Owning Olivia

Imagining what that pain must have been like for Silas was unbearable. The idea that he’d gone through something so agonizing and traumatizing was too much. I didn’t know what kind of life he led or what his childhood had been like. The truth was I knew nothing about him, but based solely on the brutal map of his face and body, it told me his life hadn’t been an easy one. Silas came off as a man who didn’t care, but in his eyes, I’d always seen a certain sadness, a longing and loneliness that I recognized in myself. I’d seen those feelings inside him since he walked into the bar. My heart started beating fast and I felt like I’d been punched directly in the lungs and couldn’t catch my breath. I knew without a doubt that Silas had managed to creep his way into my heart and now I couldn’t imagine life without him. I lay in bed staring up at the elaborate ceiling with its geometric shapes and raised edges, trying to will myself to sleep—to forget how I put myself on display for Silas—and how he rejected me. I wasn’t upset that he walked away, my pride was a little bruised, but in my heart I knew that whatever kept Silas from me was due to something dark. I don’t know why, but I had a gut feeling that he was trying to protect me, not hurt me.

Sleep was eluding me and I needed to escape that room, a room where not long ago, Silas held me in his strong arms before we both fell apart. I headed to the kitchen in search of a cup of tea. Tea had always been a great comfort to me. When I was little, before my mom died, she used to tell me that there were a very few problems in life that couldn’t be fixed with a warm cup of tea. She used to stay up late at night whenever she got sick and drink cup after cup. I would get so upset seeing her do that. It was the anger of an ignorant pre-teen girl who was upset at the world, as she watched her mother slowly wither in front of her eyes. Now I’d give anything to just sit and drink a cup with her again. I always felt closest to her at night, her strength and love helped me be strong when life was too much and I wanted to give up. But my mother was gone and my only living relative was Paul. Sometimes, when the drug use turned him against me, I felt like I had no one at all.

A soft shuffle behind me startled me as I was making my tea. The cup slipped from the counter and shattered beneath me, hot water splattered my feet and the white marble floor.

“I’m sorry I startled you, dear.” Annie quickly stooped to the spill with a rag.

“Please, Annie, let me get that. I’m the one who made the mess.”

Crouching down, I tried to take the cloth from her over-worked hands. Her gaze met mine and she smiled warmly. She had a caring face, and her eyes revealed great concern for my well-being even though we didn’t know one another that well. I didn’t want her to worry about me, she barely knew me. But I could tell she cared deeply for Silas and that alone made me happy—that he has someone like her to love him so much. She nodded hesitantly as she released the cloth into my grasp. Silently, she walked to the cupboard and took out two mugs.

“Milk or sugar?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any cream, would you?”

“I do.” She took out a small carton of half and half from the fridge.

“Tea with sugar and cream is something my mother loved.” The last four years robbed me of my memories of her. I was too busy trying to survive. I grew up so fast, faster than any young woman should. The harsh realities of Paul’s world and the depravity robbed me of whatever was left of my childhood.

“Isn’t it funny how it’s the smallest details that remind us the most of those we love? Gasoline is mine. My father was a mechanic. Every Sunday, he took me and my sister to the shop while he worked. My sister used to think it was disgusting, but not me, I was fascinated by all of it. I’m proud to say I’ve never been to a mechanic myself. My daddy taught me everything he knew and it’s served me well.” She smiled and her eyes glazed over with the warmth of her own memories. “But the smell of gasoline was always a comforting smell to me when most find it unpleasant. Come over and sit with me, dear.” She walked over to the stools at the island and I followed.