“No. If you’re going to be here for any length of time, you better get used to it.”
While her room is hot, what’s weird is that Olivia wears a long-sleeve shirt and is buried under a quilt. My other foot hits the floor and I reach for the air conditioner. “You’re cold.”
I push the off button and search the room for another blanket. How the freak can she be cold? It has to be in the high eighties in the house.
“Emily Star, turn that back on!”
“You’re cold,” I say.
“And you’re hot. There isn’t much I’ve been able to do for you for fifteen years and, because of the cancer, there isn’t a ton I can do for you now so please let me do this.”
There’s a fierceness in her eyes. A warrior’s soul in a body that appears frail tonight.
I press the unit back on and cold air once again roars into the room. I return to the empty side of the bed, but this time I draw both of my legs up and lock them to my chest. Olivia snuggles deeper into the blankets.
I peek at her from the corner of my eye and she adjusts onto her side to face me. “Eli will be home soon. You should spend the next couple of days getting to know your father.”
A twinge of resentment snakes its way up my spine. “I know my father.”
“Jeff’s a good man,” she says. “And so is Eli.”
That’s up for debate. I visit Eli once on his home turf and I may or may not have been almost abducted by a rival motorcycle club. “Eli seems nice. He visits me once a year.”
I say it as if she’s out of the loop because, well...there’s the possibility that conversation between us could get thin.
“I’m aware,” she says in a short way that makes me wish I could claim I was mute. Very long pause and she speaks again. “Everyone keeps reminding me that you aren’t the child I knew and as much as I hate it, you’re not.”
I’m not and for some reason this honesty causes me to be uncomfortable. I point then relax my toes. “I found Mom’s initials on the tree, which, according to Oz, means that she jumped from the rope swing. So now that I figured it out, will you fill me in on my mom’s past?”
“Tell me the significance of Honeysuckle Ridge and then we’ll have a different conversation. How did you get Oz to tell you about the rope?”
“He had me jump.”
Pure surprise softens Olivia’s features. “You jumped?”
I gesture to my bandaged leg. “I jumped wrong and hit the rocks.”
Olivia traces the outline of her lips and stares off into space. “Oz had you jump.”
“He explained it’s a tradition and how everyone who comes to the pond has to do it.”
“No. It’s what we have the people we care for do. Most of the names there are club members, but not many of those names belong to women. That’s a rarity.”
“I’m sure Oz had me do it because I’m related to you.”
She shakes her head halfway through my response. “That’s not how our world works. The only females on those trees are old ladies.”
My mind stretches in two different directions and the resulting aftermath is a brain freeze.
“There may be a few exceptions,” she admits, “like Violet, but overall, it’s a privilege granted to few.”
“Which one was my mom?” Which one am I? “Why was her name on there?” If asking me to jump, if carving my name into the tree meant something special, then why did Oz share it with me? Or is it because I’m an exception, like Violet, or was Mom an exception?
“Why do you think your mother’s name was on there?” Olivia asks.
All the possible answers spin so fast in my head that the world tilts. “If Mom was an...”
Old lady. It feels wrong to refer to her that way. “...Attached to Eli then why not tell me? If they knew each other before she got pregnant it still doesn’t change that Eli didn’t want us.”
“He wants you,” Olivia whispers.
I snort. “Because that’s how people feel when they give up their custodial rights.”
“There’s more to the story,” Olivia counters. “More you need to know.”
“More what? No one will tell me and my patience is running out. What I don’t understand is why everyone is so damn secretive.”
“Speaking of secrets,” she says, “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it from Eli that I’m supplying you with information. Keeping your past from you is important to him and I stand to lose a lot if he finds out I’m denying his wishes.”
“I’m not a liar,” I say.
“I’m not asking you to lie. I’m asking you to not mention it.”
Great. I’m officially a secret keeper. “What do you have to lose? Isn’t everyone in this town your minion?”
“What you see is respect, but the power you believe I have, I don’t. The club is what rules. The rest of us figure out our positions around it and make the best of it. You know, the club would give you the same respect they give me if you let them.”
That resembled a guilt trip. “You didn’t answer my question. What do you have to lose?”
“I risk losing my son’s respect. If I lose it, I’m not sure how much time I have to regain it.”
I focus on my toes because I’m lost on what else to say or do. That’s wrong. She’s divulging something personal with me, I can reveal something personal back. Something that I’ve been dying to purge since it happened. “I saw my mom and Eli hug at that warehouse.”
I hug my legs and rest my chin on my knees. It doesn’t sound like much, but witnessing that wounded me. More than the picture of me and Olivia. More than seeing Mom’s name on the tree. Maybe more than when I thought I was being kidnapped.
“It wasn’t a hey-let’s-hug-because-we-made-a-kid-together hug. It was a real hug. Intimate. The type that she should only share with my dad.”
A cold hand on my arm and I glance over at Olivia. “Whatever you find out, it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love you or your adoptive father.”
My frown deepens because that’s exactly what I’m afraid it means. “If this is as big as you make it out to be, then isn’t it possible that she’s lied about everything?” Integrity issues, as I explained to Oz.
An ache slices through me at the thought of her not loving my father and Olivia must sense it as she squeezes my arm. “I swear I’m not doing this to hurt you. I just want you to understand your past.”