Page 39 of A Heart On A Sleeve

twenty-three

Olive

At Home with Irina

“Ollie, I got the eye black as requested,” Ari shouts, barreling through the front door with three grocery bags and an overnight tote.

“Looks like more than just eye black. What is all this?” I ask, grabbing the groceries from her and placing them on the counter.

“Oh, just a few things to make this more fun. I figured if we could potentially end the night in jail for trespassing, or worse, cursed by Irina, we better do it on a full belly.” I gawk at her. She did not just compare my predicament to jail.

“Um, thanks? I guess.” I rifle through the bags, pulling out a couple bottles of wine, two kinds of chips, crackers and cheese, and a package of Oreos. It’s quite an impressive spread if we were kindergartners, minus the wine.

I reach in a drawer and pull out a wine key. “Hey, the wine is for after. Wait, actually, maybe it’s for both. I’m nervous, are you nervous?” Ari placed her tote in my room and is now pacing the living room.

“Yeah, the last time I saw her I ended up in the hospital. Of course I’m scared. But this time we are going as a group.” I try to reassure her as bile nips the back of my throat.

“A group? I thought it was just us and your lover boy. Which, by the way, your bedroom has a vibe. I’m going to need clean sheets if you want me to stay here.” Ari waves her arm around like she’s wafting the air.

“The sheets have been changed, and I don’t kiss and tell.” I place both hands on my hips as a sign that I’m serious. Instead, she doubles over in laughter.

“Yes, you do! I literally could describe every peen you’ve ever seen from memory. Don’t act all high and mighty now. Spill it!” she shrieks between laughs.

“Well . . . fine. I guess I do. It was amazing. He’s got an impressive, uh, man part. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one so big, and honestly, those tattoos, they do something to me,” I admit, joining in on her laughter.

“I knew it. I could tell you were walking funny.” She claps her hands together and smiles from ear to ear.

“No, I’m not!” I defend.

“I know, I was kidding, but seriously, you are glowing. How are things going outside of the bedroom?”

“Good . . . great, actually. I just wonder when he’ll realize that I’m not this amazing person he’s built me up to be.

He acts like I’m the shiniest penny, the special toy everyone wants, and that’s just not true.

I’m just a regular person, and I’m afraid when he figures it out, I’ll be in too deep.

” I try to push down the knot forming in my throat.

He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but then again, he could just be trying to win me over.

I’ve noticed him judging my feelings and moods by my arm from that first night I showed it to him.

It was cute for twenty minutes, but then it started to make me wonder if the reason he’s so perfect is because he has the cheat code.

Am I getting the real version of him or the one that’s like Mel Gibson in What Women Want ?

“Okay, babe, here’s the thing. I’ve always known you were special and hoped that one day you’d see it too.

But . . . since it seems like you’re not getting it, I’ll tell you.

You’re not all the horrible things that woman convinced you that you are.

You’re a true friend, a kind and loving person.

You are good for so much more than being a trophy wife.

I could go on for days, but none of it matters if you don’t embrace it.

I mean, isn’t that how we got into this mess?

You asked to be open, to expose your heart.

This is what you wanted,” Ari says, obviously frustrated with me.

“Yeah, I did. I guess I just didn’t think it would be this hard.

I worry every second if I’m saying the right thing, doing the right stuff.

For heaven’s sake, we had sex and afterward I locked myself in the bathroom to shower alone and overanalyze every second of it.

I’m a mess, Ari. A tattoo isn’t going to change it.

” I pop open the Oreos and shove one in my mouth.

“You’re not a mess, you’re the most put-together person on the planet. You’re scared, and that’s normal. But can you honestly say that you haven’t enjoyed opening up with him, not even a little?” she asks, challenging me to deny it.

“No, I can’t. It’s been nice to have someone to talk to.

Other than you, of course. And he’s so understanding about everything.

Ugh! Okay, we have to stop. They are going to be here, and I don’t want him to worry.

We have enough on our plate tonight.” With that, I head into the bedroom to get my sneakers.

The door sounds with a couple of loud knocks.

“Come in!” I shout, as I walk back to the kitchen.

Sam and Howie let themselves in, taking their shoes off at the door and walking into the kitchen. Sam’s eyes meet mine, and I know he senses something is off.

“Howard, I didn’t expect to see you this evening,” Ariella quips before popping the cork on a bottle of wine and taking a long glug.

“I wouldn’t have missed a chance to help Olive.

Besides, it would be cool to expose the beard story, you know, if Irina keeps records or something.

” Howie shrugs, reaching out to grab the bottle from Ari and taking his own pull.

I can’t help but notice the T-shirt he’s wearing is just a smidge tighter than normal—I see you, Howie, showing off the goods to get the girl.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” Sam whispers in my ear as he sneaks up beside me.

“Yeah, uh. Ari, please play nice with Howie. We’ll be right back,” I explain, pulling Sam by the hand to my bedroom. I close the door behind us, and he wraps me in a tight but comforting hug, nuzzling his nose in my neck.

“I missed you today,” Sam says. I pull back and look in his eyes. There’s a genuineness reflecting back at me. I stretch up on my toes to press a kiss on his lips.

“I, uh, I missed you too,” I manage.

“Everything okay?” He’s concerned, I can feel it. But he doesn’t need to be, not about me leaving him. I’m the one who’s afraid he’ll be the one to walk away. It’s my insecurity.

“Yep. I’m just nervous, I guess. The last time, well, you know what happened.”

“Olive, I would never let anything happen to you. I’m with you this time, I promise.

And I’ll help you find whatever answers you need, even if I’m starting to think this arm of yours is pretty cool.

” Acid hits my throat, and my body starts to buzz.

He thought I was a liar at first, but now it’s cool?

“It’s not cool, Sam. I know you like being able to see what I’m feeling and thinking, but it’s horrible for me.

I can’t even walk into the Brewhouse without coffee cups swirling around my forearm.

I can’t fight with my mother without a Death Eater flying across my arm,” I groan, pushing out of his arms fully and crossing mine.

She’s continued calling and I keep ignoring her, but the reminder is always there on my arm in vivid depiction.

“Whoa. That’s not what I meant at all. I lo—like you either way. I just meant it’s crazy cool that something like that is even possible. Please, babe, don’t fight with me.” His eyes shift to the floor and his face falls. Did he almost tell me he loves me? No, he couldn’t.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m just on edge. It’s not your fault,” I backpedal. We have stuff to do, and he’s right, fighting is not going to help anyone. This is a me problem and not his responsibility to work out.

“Come here,” Sam says, pulling me back into his arms, pressing kisses on my face. “I care so much. Let’s just go and see what we find. No expectations. I’ve got you.” I melt into him, kissing him deeply.

There’s a knock at the door, “Um, sorry . . . We need to go, and uh, Ari said she couldn’t interrupt you guys anymore?” Howie’s hesitant voice comes through the door muffled.

Sam and I break apart trying not to laugh at the notion of Ari sending Howie to do her dirty work.

We exit the room, and I promptly apply eye black on each of our faces.

Between the all-black outfits, beanies, and under-eye makeup, we look like a bunch of cat burglars ready to launch a full assault.

Let’s hope we don’t get busted because there’s zero chance of playing this off like we aren’t up to no good.

“Okay, so what’s the plan when we get there?” Howie asks, as we step onto the porch.

“We get in, see if she’s there or if there’s a clue of where to find her, and we get out,” Ari explains.

“Right, but how are we getting in?” Howie pushes back.

“The door, I presume.” Ari lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls her eyes like the answer is so obvious.

“I have a lock-picking kit if we need it,” Sam chimes in, breaking the tension.

“Why?” I ask, my eyes bugging out of my head.

“Because I’ve locked myself out of my business more than once, and locksmiths are expensive. I’m not a thief.” He holds up his hands in the universal sign of surrender.

“That’s exactly what a thief would say, don’t ya think?” Ari snips out.

“Alright, before we end up taking each other out with what is clearly too much nervous energy, let’s move.” I take off at a slow jog, hoping they follow. Driving would have been too obvious to anyone passing by, and the exercise will help us all, I hope.

It’s about four blocks of Ari complaining as she trudges through piles of leaves that have collected on the sidewalk, Howie trying not to comment on her clear lack of physical prowess, and Sam staying glued to my side.

We slow to a walk as we turn the corner onto Crow, spotting the downtrodden cottage in the distance.

It sits back from the road more than the others.

At one time it probably would’ve been surrounded by trees.

There’s a buzzing in the air. A strange sensation overwhelms me, and I stop.