“Now you’ve done it,” Estelle said. “He’s going to give your handsome Yankee some competition.”
A customer stopped Alan to ask a question about a refrigerator. He won’t know or care, Olivia thought, and sure enough, Alan stopped, but he frowned in annoyance. She looked at Estelle. “What do you mean?”
“Alan Trumbull has had a crush on you since high school.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Of course you never knew. You were the queen of the Drama Society, a princess on stage, and Alan was just a guy who played a flute in the band.”
“Alan played the flute?”
“According to the bandleader, he wasn’t very good. We girls said it was just so he could sit at your feet while you were on stage.”
Olivia was looking at Estelle in disbelief. “Are you sure of this? I don’t even remember Alan in high school.”
“My point exactly. The day you left for college, that night we girls held a pity party for Alan in that tavern out by Tattwell. Poor guy was miserable.”
Olivia was looking at Estelle in shock.
“Uh-oh, here he comes—and your pretty boyfriend is right behind him.”
Alan stopped in front of Olivia and stared at her in silence.
Her stomach clenched. She knew that look so very well. He wanted her to do something, fix something. There was a problem so of course Olivia was to take care of it. There had been times when she’d been so overwhelmed with child care, running a home and the stores, that she’d nearly burst into tears. Never, ever, never would he tell her what he wanted. He’d just stand there and stare until she figured it out.
Kit put his arm tightly around Olivia’s shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin. “I’m Christopher Montgomery,” he said. “And you are?”
Alan didn’t so much as glance at Kit, but kept staring at Olivia’s pale face. “Good to see you again, Livie. Why don’t we go somewhere and talk?” His tone was so proprietary, so full of ownership, that she took a step forward—as though she meant to obey him.
But Kit didn’t release her. “We have some work to do.” He led her to a corner of the store. “What the hell was that about?” Kit demanded. “Old boyfriend? That guy acted like he owned you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here to see him?”
Between the emotion of seeing Estelle and Alan, Olivia felt like she might collapse. She couldn’t think clearly, and right now the past and the future were all one. “I never went on a date with him, but I was married to him for many years. It hasn’t happened yet, but it looks like he remembers it anyway.”
Kit was staring at her, speechless.
When she looked up at him, her eyes were bleak. “Now you see why I didn’t want you to come with me. What I have to do is beyond anyone’s power to understand, much less accept. I have to go. I need to find Willie, who will someday be the mother of his daughter, Alana. They haven’t met yet so I need to introduce them to each other.”
Kit was still looking at her without comprehension, and she turned away. As much as she dreaded it, she knew she had to do things to make the future right.
Habit, she thought. What was that saying about doing something three times and it will become a habit? How about doing it over and over for more than half of your life? The store with all its appliances in the ghastly “harvest gold” and “avocado green” was as familiar to her as breathing. As was Alan. All it took was one lift of his eyebrows and out of habit, she knew what he expected of her.
Why hadn’t that girl Arrieta warned her that this might happen? Probably because she didn’t know, Olivia thought.
Her fear, one that was seeping into her like some flesh-eating parasite, was that if she wasn’t successful at drastically changing things in the three weeks she’d been given, that she’d repeat her past mistakes. When she no longer remembered a world of computers and cell phones, would Alan look at her in that way that said she belonged to him and she’d go with him?
She glanced at Kit. In the future, she’d spent only a year with him, but she’d had a lifetime with Alan. Habit was a very, very strong pull.
Kit took her hand in his. “It doesn’t matter what I think or believe,” he said softly. “Tell me what you need and let me help.” He smiled at her. “Please.”
Olivia took a few breaths and squeezed his hand. Willie was just coming in the door and looking around. “I need to get Alan and her together.”
“Now you are talking fantasy. You want scrawny, flabby Trumbull to look at her when you are in the room?”
Olivia couldn’t help smiling—but then it’s how she’d always felt. Vain, yes, but Willie wasn’t especially pretty or built or smart. Yet Alan had liked her better. “Thank you,” she said. “So how do we do it?”
Kit smiled at the we. “Empty the earth of all people so only those two are left. They might notice each other but I’m not sure.”
In spite of the trauma she’d felt since entering the store, Olivia laughed. Alan was wearing that expression she knew so well, that he expected her to follow him.