Page 28 of Olivia’s Only Pretending (Sweet River #3)

Twenty

Victor

*sends photo of Watson sitting with his head cocked to the side*

the patient is healing well—he’s walking fine, no limp at all anymore

the patient also says thank you

I arrived home the next day after a whirlwind of meetings and classes, kicking off my shoes and grabbing a bottle of my favorite red wine blend. A warm bubble bath was in my near future.

I heard the click of a key in my front door. There were only three people with keys to my place: Victor, Mom, and Lucy.

Victor had his tux fitting tonight. Mom had her date.

Oh yeah . My tired heart sank. Mom had her date. There goes my bubble bath.

The door swung open, and in walked Lucy and Gracie, giggling and wearing head-to-toe black. I squinted at Lucy’s leather pants.

“I hadn’t heard from either of you today. I hoped that meant yesterday’s idea to crash Mom’s date was a big joke.” I pointed at them with the bottle of wine in my hand.

“Not crash her date— check on her date,” Lucy clarified.

“I was being nice with crash . Let’s be real, your idea is to spy on her date,” I said. I grabbed a glass and poured myself a big cup full. “I still think it’s a bad idea.”

I looked around for Gracie. I’d seen her walk in, but she was now suspiciously missing.

“Olivia, we’re doing this with or without you,” Lucy said, also grabbing a glass from my shelf and pouring herself some wine. She took a sip. “Do you want to miss out?”

“Luce, have you ever heard of JOMO? The joy of missing out?” I took a sip of the earthy, berry tones.

“Doesn’t apply here. I know you, big sis. You have SOMO. The stress of missing out. You’d be stressed out not being there to wrangle Gracie and me in. Worried about the bad choices we might make without you there to put your foot down?—”

“I’m trying to put my foot down right now. Look how well that does me.” I took a gulp this time.

Down the stairs stomped Gracie with a big black hoodie and black leggings for me to wear in her hands. She wore a black cap over her long banana-peel blonde hair.

“You were going through my closet?”

“What else is new?” She shrugged, tossing me the hoodie.

“That is giant,” Lucy said as I slid it over my head. It hung nearly to my knees, and my hands were lost in the sleeves. “Where did it come from?”

“It’s Victor’s,” I explained.

Lucy and Gracie exchanged a glance with raised brows. I ignored them.

I finished changing my clothes and then took another big swig of wine before I looked at my sisters and said, “I guess we’re doing this.”

S weet River took its mini golf seriously. Mini Golf But Big Fun was expansive with an eighteen-hole course, a loud, colorful arcade off the lobby, and various snack stations to keep your energy up as you played.

“I guess we’re doing this,” I said again, to myself, as we walked into the noisy lobby full of teenagers. I bought our tickets from the freckle-faced teenage receptionist as Gracie and Lucy scoped the place, searching for Mom around the lobby and trying to find a view of the golf course.

After I paid, they raced over to me, nearly crashing into each other to breathlessly tell me that it seemed Mom had already arrived. She and her date were already on the course.

“We’d planned to be here early. Now we’ve missed all the introductory conversations,” Lucy groaned, speedwalking toward the courses. “If only all of us had taken the mission seriously.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? That’s as good as it’s going to get,” I grumbled, following after them. I looked out into the abyss of bright green golf grass, tiny pastel-colored windmills, and bridges.

Gracie and Lucy were stomping around, completely noticeable. Honestly, the head-to-toe black attire made them stick out even more. I grabbed them both by the arm and pulled them behind the bushes.

“Okay, if we’re really doing this, we can’t be marching around the place.

We need to be discreet, and we need a real plan,” I whisper-shouted.

“We can’t follow them around—it looks like they’re at hole two right now, and three and four are out in the open.

I think there are bushes over by hole five, though.

Let’s discreetly head over there and check them out. ”

Lucy and Gracie nodded in agreement.

We scurried behind the bushes and snack bars, crouched low. By the time we reached hole five, the three of us huddled behind a thick green bush, Mom and her date were already strolling over for their turn.

I placed a finger to my mouth, giving my sisters a serious glare to hush them. They stifled their giggles, and together, we peered over the hedge to check in on Mom’s date.

“Mom looks great,” Lucy whispered in awe.

“She’s in my dress.” I snorted.

Mom’s auburn hair was twisted at the nape of her neck, and she had one of my favorite old red wrap dresses with a cream cardigan. I’d lent her that dress over a year ago.

“Well, Ernie, this is actually my first time in …” Mom’s voice got cut off by a group of girls squealing at the neighboring hole.

“Ernie,” Gracie repeated to us, drawing out his name. “Jeff versus Ernie .”

“See, it’s all in twist,” Ernie said in an attempt to show Mom how to swing.

“Ernie looks like a bit of a bad boy in that jacket,” Gracie said.

Ernie had on a leather jacket and scuffed-up cowboy boots. His hair was dark, and so were his eyes.

Mom laughed, all twirly and flirty at something he said. Had she laughed like that with Jeff? Or was she nervous tonight?

She tucked her hair behind her ear while she waited for her turn to play.

“He seems fine, guys. She doesn’t seem as comfortable as she did with Jeff, maybe, but the night’s still young,” I said. “We’ve seen. Let’s go.” I had a hammering fear that we were on the verge of getting caught.

“I’ve barely heard anything from him,” Lucy said, facing her ear in their direction. Early 2000s pop was pumping through this golf course. All we could hear was Michelle Branch.

There was a lull between songs, and we all leaned forward.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t watch much TV. I spend most of my free time on my bike,” Ernie explained.

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle. Did you ride yours here?” Mom asked.

“I did. We could take a spin after we finish up here,” he said.

Lucy looked at me with wide, worried eyes and nostrils flaring. She popped right up.

“No!” I squealed.

Gracie yanked on Lucy’s sweater. “Get down!”

A sharp pop of a golf ball ricocheting off a windmill’s metal blade filled my ears. I barely had time to react as I watched it soar in the air before it smacked Lucy in the face, sending her tumbling backward.

Gracie and I screamed in unison, scrambling to the ground where Lucy lay, clutching her head. While people ran toward us, feet pounding across the turf, my eyes locked with Mom’s across the way. Confusion wrinkled her forehead before it gave way to wide-eyed panic as she ran toward us.

T he hospital room was bright with fluorescent lighting.

Lucy crinkled the paper on the bed as she twisted on the exam table, adjusting the ice pack she held to the right side of her forehead over her eye.

Mom was standing beside her, rubbing Lucy’s back in the way she used to when we were young girls sick at home.

“Well, Miss Rhodes, your pupils and reflexes appear normal. Your memory, as well. With a hit to the head like this, our main concern is concussion, but you seem to be in the clear,” the doctor said, his blond hair swooping into his eyes as he read the charts.

“Bruising is expected with swelling and a knot like you’ve attained.

I’d recommend you keep icing it for the next twelve hours.

I have some paperwork here for you to take home that lists the signs of concussion to watch for, as well as some instructions on treating pain and swelling. ”

“Okay, thank you,” Lucy said, taking the paperwork he handed her.

After the doctor left, my sisters and I started to grab our purses and stand up to leave.

Mom held out her hands, saying, “Wait, a minute, girls.”

We froze. The sounds of people shuffling around the hallway and voices murmuring at the nurses’ station filled the room. Mom crossed her arms, her signal she had something to say and it was serious.

“I know that I never dated while you three grew up. I honestly just didn’t have the time, or after a long day on my feet here”—she gestured toward the Sweet River ER around us, where she nursed for decades—“I didn’t have the energy.

But now, I think I want some fun. Some romance.

And you are going to have to deal with it.

I don’t need you spying, or snooping, or worrying . ”

“We want you to date, Mom!” Gracie interjected. “You deserve some fun.”

“It’s not that we don’t want you to date—” I spoke up, before she cut me off.

“I know you girls are excited for me. I don’t question that. The problem is you need to cut the apron strings,” Mom said, making a pair of scissors with her fingers.

Cut the apron strings. A couple beats of silence.

“As your mom, so many pieces of me and my life have been communal. I’ve shared it all.

My food is your food. My workplace, your second home.

My bed? You still crawl in it when you’re scared.

I get it,” Mom said, taking a deep breath, lips pressed together.

“But this part of my life is just for me, okay? I’ll share it over margaritas, like you girls do.

Wait to hear about my date until then. No more hiding in the bushes. ”

I chewed on my lip. “I tried to stop them.”

Lucy and Gracie immediately gasped in response.

“Olivia Marie!” Lucy shouted through laughter. “You Goody Two-Shoes!”

“Mom, she was hiding in the bushes right along with us!” Gracie pointed at me.

We all started to laugh.