Page 29 of A Heart On A Sleeve

“The she-devil. I don’t actually know her mom, but from what Ariella has said, and seeing her strut up and down the square most of the day with her nose in the air, I’d wager it’s a pretty accurate name.

” He shrugs and takes a long, slow pull of his drink.

“Besides, Olive’s just got a lot going on.

At least you have someone to ghost you. By the way, what is ghosting exactly? ”

“Hold up. You’re younger than me. How do you not know?” I check his expression to see if he’s fucking with me, but it’s clear he isn’t. “Ghosting is when you’re talking to someone and then they just stop responding. Like radio silence, no communication. Like a ghost disappearing into the night.”

“Oh, so what every girl I’ve ever liked has done to me. Good to know I can call it something now.” More beer disappears from his glass as he sinks lower into his seat.

“Alright, as much as I want to unpack everything you said about Olive, it appears we have bigger fish to fry today. What’s going on, and who do I need to be mad at?”

“W-w-what? Mad? There’s no one to be mad at.” His denial only makes me more curious. This is a good distraction. It’s nice to not be alone in my misery.

“Is it Sabrina? I saw her eyeing you. Is there something going on there?”

“Ew, no. She’s my cousin.”

“Okay . . . hmm. Is it Allie Walker? I saw her chatting you up at the Hollow Hearts Festival.”

“She wasn’t chatting me up. Whatever that means. Why would a girl like that be into a guy like me?” He motions from his hair down to his shoes.

“Howie, is that short for Howard?”

“Yes?”

“Howard, listen up. It’s time for you to get one of my world-famous pep talks—”

“What are we giving poor Howie a pep talk for?” Xav slaps me on the shoulder from behind. He slings a white paper bag overflowing with to-go containers onto our table and sits backward in a chair while leaning his chin in his hands in intrigue. He must have spotted us on his way home with carryout.

“It’s fine, I do not need a pep talk.” Howie finishes his beer and waves at Sabrina to bring another. I’m starting to like him more and more by the minute. Did I see my day ending up with me and Howie drinking our feelings together? No. Am I mad about it? Also, no.

“As I was saying, you need a pep talk, and Xav here is in the circle of trust since I’ve had to give him damn near a thousand of these over the years.”

“Scout’s honor, it’s the bro code. What happens in a pep talk is sacred.” Xav holds three fingers up for proof.

“Howard, you have everything to offer someone. You’re handsome. I know you hide it, but I have a feeling there’re muscles under those concert tees you wear, and you’re on track to take over your uncle’s business. You’re a walking panty dropper, or briefs, whatever you’re into is good with us.”

“It’s women. Well, one woman,” Howie interrupts.

“Either way, you’re smart, you’re funny as hell, and anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I’m funny?” There’s doubt in his eyes, almost like he’s trying to think of a time when he made someone laugh.

“Of course you’re funny. Like when you come out of nowhere with a classic one-liner.

Or when you talk shit to the drunkards on Friday nights thinking no one can hear you.

” I’m not great at coming up with specific examples, but Xav and I have spent countless hours laughing over something Howie’s said. Xav nods in agreement.

“Okay, that still doesn’t answer the question of how you get the girls.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“I don’t. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You could walk in there right now and pick someone up, no questions asked. But it doesn’t matter if it’s not the right one.” Howie harrumphs at this revelation.

“Are you going to tell us who she is?” Xav leans in a little closer, clearly eager to learn about his crush.

“No.” Howie crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.

“No? I told you about Olive ghosting me, and all I get is no?” I avoid looking at Xav. He doesn’t know about the latest development, and I don’t want to recount it right now. I chug the remaining quarter of my beer instead.

“Not forever, just for right now. She doesn’t know, and this is a new friendship. I have to keep you coming back for more, right?” Howie shrugs, and Xav and I erupt in laughter. See, he’s funny. He’s maintaining an air of mystery to keep us on the hook.

“Okay, fine. But I was going to stay in this friendship either way.”

“Me too, but I gotta run or I won’t be staying in my marriage. Cami takes her food seriously these days.” Xavier stands from his seat, grabs his bag, and heads out with a wave.

Howie and I continue our back-and-forth, putting away a few more beers and our food before calling it a day.

I didn’t expect to hang with him this afternoon, but it was nice.

It got my mind off Olive and sort of filled that hole from where Xav has been somewhat absent lately.

His life is changing with the baby coming, I get it.

As I exit Union, I give Olive a call. It goes straight to voicemail, and I decide to walk home.

It’s the responsible thing to do, and fresh air will clear my head.

Crunching leaves under my feet, each step is heavy.

I wish she would just let me know she’s okay.

I don’t like that everyone seems to have had a less-than-stellar experience with her parents.

She deserves better, and I can’t help but wonder if her parents are the reason it always seems like she’s holding something back.

Like the tattoo question she never answered.

Is she afraid to tell me she can’t get a tattoo because they wouldn’t approve?

Does she think if I knew they would judge me, it would change what we are building?

I walk up the steep stairs to my small porch. It’s not sprawling like Olive’s, more of a landing at the top of the steps. My house is old, a starter-home that I thought would be a good flip one day. Turning the key in the lock, I push inside.

The hardwood floors have been refinished, and the kitchen has been remodeled with white cabinets, marble counters, and a subway-tile backsplash. I have a Victorian rug in the living room, but my furniture is mismatched, and the focal point is the large TV hung over the fireplace.

Sloughing off my shoes, I walk to the laundry room that’s at the end of the open-concept living space and strip off my clothes, tossing them in the washing machine.

I strut in my birthday suit back to the front of the house to take the stairs up to the second floor, where there are three bedrooms, including the primary.

The two spares haven’t been touched aside from making one my workspace.

Attached to my primary is a small bathroom. I walk in and turn on the shower as hot as it will go when my phone dings from where I placed it on the dresser. Hurrying, I turn off the water and make my way back to the bedroom to pick it up.

Olive

I’m sorry I didn’t respond earlier. My parents showed up as a surprise.

I heard. I’m glad you’re okay.

Olive

About that, I’m sorry I had to ditch you last night.

I already told you not to apologize.

The phone rings, and I immediately answer.

“Don’t tell me you’re calling to protest the no apologizing rule.”

“I’m well . . . Okay, I was, but I won’t. How was your day?” There’s a shakiness to her voice.

“Uh, it was fine actually. I covered your shift at BKB for Beau’s lunch, then hung out with Howie at Union.” I crawl into bed.

“Now I really am going to say sorry. How mad was he?”

“Who? Beau? He wasn’t mad, but I think your dad might not be on his list of favorite people.” This makes her laugh. It’s throaty and full until I hear her let out a deep sigh. “Olivia, what’s wrong?”

“You called me Olivia.” Her words are soft, almost a whisper.

“I did. You are not okay. I can tell, and this is serious. I need you to tell me what’s going on. Howie mentioned you have a lot on your plate. Let me help you,” I say, pleading with her to let me in.

“What did Howie say?” Her voice goes up an octave, and my heart thumps in my chest. What does he know that I don’t, and why didn’t my new friend tell me?

“He didn’t say anything. Just that you have a lot going on and that you aren’t ghosting me. What does he know that I don’t? Because I’m trying here, babe. But I can’t force you to open up to me.”

“He doesn’t know anything, not really anyway. It’s just that, well, it’s embarrassing.” She pauses, and I hear her moving around like she’s sinking under her blankets. I can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

“You never have to be embarrassed to tell me anything. I’m on your side here. Please just let me in,” I say, trying to convince her, again.

She sucks in a breath before saying, “Okay, fine. My parents aren’t like yours. They aren’t warm and inviting. They think my being here is throwing away everything they’ve ever done for me.”

“Why would they think that?”

“Because I’m supposed to get married.” What the hell did she just say?

“Um, excuse me, what? You’re engaged?”

She bursts out laughing. A full-blown wheezing-for-air laugh that would be hilariously delightful if I didn’t feel like I made out with someone else’s fiancé a few days ago.

“No. No, no, no. I’m not engaged, nor have I ever been engaged.

But they think I should be, to Theodore Wilson the Third, heir to the Wilson Oil Empire and esteemed member of the Mobile Country Club.

” Her voice gets very high-pitched as the words tumble from her lips.

“But it’s never going to happen. I refuse to be put into a little box where I have no purpose, and that’s exactly what I’d be settling for. ”

“A couple things. First, I’m glad you aren’t settling because you deserve the world and it would be a fucking shame for anyone to give you less than that.

Second, I’m glad you’re not engaged, I mean, that would totally suck for me.

But I have to ask, was there anything between you and Ted?

” She laughs again, a bright melodic sound.

“No, Ted has always been a no-fly zone. There’s only one person I’m even remotely interested in, but I’m fairly certain he’s going to get sick of me soon.” Olive is nervous, I can tell by the way her words trail off.

“Olivia, I need you to listen to me. If you’re talking about me, and I hope you are, there is zero chance of me getting sick of you.

You’ve captivated my every thought since the second I saw you.

” I do my best to reassure her. I know it’s too early to be making promises, but I can sense that she needs the stability right now.

I also know in my heart that even if she decided she didn’t want me, I’d still ask how high if she told me to jump.

Women like her don’t fall for men like me. I’m lucky to be in her presence at all.

“Sam . . . you’re too good to me.” She sighs heavily, or maybe it was a yawn. “Tell me more about Howie. I didn’t know you guys hung out.”

“I mean, there’s not much to tell. I ran into him, and we drank our sorrows away.

Me worrying about you—do not apologize—and him over some girl he’s in love with.

He wouldn’t tell me who.” She squeals, and a delighted, robust sound vibrates through the phone.

“I take it that means you know who it is.”

“I have a hunch, but I’m not sure. I hope it’s Ari.”

“Actually, I could see that. There’s a weird vibe between those two. Do I need to let you get back to your parents?” I don’t want to cut this off, but if they are waiting, I don’t want to be the reason she’s being rude.

“No. When can I see you again?” She changes the subject flawlessly, and I’m left with more questions. I can’t imagine her leaving them to sit in the living room alone, but they couldn’t have just come for one day, not a thousand miles, right? Something is up.

“Well, I’m free tomorrow night, if you’re not entertaining your guests.” I try bringing it up in a different way.

“I’m free. How about if I plan a date this time. Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Alright. I’ll see you at seven.” She clearly yawns this time. “Go to sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow, sweet girl.”

“Good night, Sam.”

“Good night, Olive.”

We hang up, and I abandon my plan to shower, instead drifting off to thoughts of Olive. She’s hiding something. It’s not a fiancé, but there’s more to the story. I don’t know how I know, but I feel there’s something just out of reach every time we talk.