I Know You Love Me, Chapter One
Title: I Know You Love Me
Author: mysticaldream
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia Spencer/Natalia Rivera
Spoilers: This story begins at the end of the 8/31/2009 episode and includes flashbacks/references to earlier scenes, both canon and fictitious. This story will deviate from canon at the end of the 8/31/2009 episode.
Summary: Natalia pursues Olivia after returning from the retreat.
Rating: Will range from PG-NC17.
Disclaimer: The characters herein, including Olivia Spencer, Natalia Rivera, Emma Spencer, Matt Reardon, Maureen Reardon, Frank Cooper, Rick Bauer, Doris Wolfe and Buzz Cooper belong to Proctor & Gamble, TeleNext Media, and/or CBS. I do not own them nor am I making any profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: This story alternates between Olivia's and Natalia's POV and also sometimes between memories/flashbacks and present tense. I will do my best to make the differences clear. This is my first attempt at fanfic; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Thanks for reading. This is also my first attempt at posting on a LJ-community. If I've messed anything up, please someone tell me!
Chapter One - Olivia Spencer
She reluctantly followed him into Towers, trying to pleasantly make conversation while her mind was still reeling, trying to make sense of what she was doing here with him. She knew this was only going to lead to disappointment at best, or another notch on her bad-decision bedpost at worst. She had just left Natalia standing outside of the mahogany door that graced the entrance to her penthouse suite at The Beacon. Olivia had told herself that it was her turn to walk away and leave Natalia wondering about where she was going, what she was doing, why she couldn’t be with her. All was fair in love and war, and she was simply giving Natalia a taste of her own medicine. So she offered Natalia little explanation beyond, “I can’t, it is too hard,” and walked away, refusing to look Natalia in the eye. She knew if she did, she wouldn’t have the strength to walk away. Her determined will to stay away from the woman who broke her heart was eroding away as Natalia seemed to come up with new and inventive ways to weasel her way back into Olivia’s life each day since her return from the retreat. So Olivia glanced down, stepped around Natalia and took off for the elevator, willing herself not to turn around and see the haunting sadness and rejection in the dark eyes she knew would be staring back at her, boring into her soul, begging for forgiveness.
The problem was, the whole love-and-war bit didn’t feel fair to Olivia. It felt heavy, oppressive; old habits that used to feel so comfortable now felt suffocating. I used to treat people this way all the time. I was masterful, an artist at being cold, being rude, being selfish. Before she… before I changed… before I changed for her. She honestly didn’t want to revert back to that woman, especially not in relation to Natalia. No matter how much she ached over Natalia’s disappearance and sudden reemergence, the child of Frank Cooper growing in her womb, she was still hopelessly tormented by her enduring love for her ex-girlfriend. It pained her to leave Natalia standing there as she casually disregarded their plans to go shopping together. Olivia avoided conscious deliberation about what this particular character trait said about her, but the truth was she had always relished in victorious revenge. Retribution felt like sweet justification and she had, at times, felt near orgasmic thrills at watching a foe writhe in defeat. Now it simply made her heart feel heavier, her body more tired as the guilt weighed her down.
“Olivia?” Matt interrupted her reflective musings. “Our table is ready.”
“Right,” she replied, allowing him to lead her past the bar and into the restaurant. She glanced sadly at the table to which they were being directed by the young maître d’. It was the exact table where she, Emma, and Natalia had dined following Emma’s school play and Rafe’s return to the halfway house back in April. Fucking cosmic karma. Natalia is probably praying outside my door and telling God that I hurt her feelings. He’s pissed at me; I’m convinced of it. Why the fuck else would I be stuck here with Matt sitting at the same table where she and I found ourselves accidentally and unexpectedly on a first… date?
First date? Could she call it that? Her heart skipped a beat at the memory; she recalled the way it had pounded in her chest all through dinner. She had been nervous, giddy, and uncharacteristically hopeful. I hardly remember what hopeful feels like anymore. I thought for sure that our life together was going to start that day. She honestly wasn’t sure she’d be able to endure the evening sitting there with Matt on their ‘date.’ All the tables in this joint and I get stuck sitting at the one that reminds me of my ex-girlfriend, the woman who shattered my heart- as if I didn’t spend enough time wallowing in thoughts of her. I have a heart condition, for fuck’s sake! This isn’t fair! Flashes of that April evening together inundated her psyche, and a tremor darted down her spine, eventually settling in her lower abdomen, in response.
....
Olivia was certain she had never in her life seen Natalia look more breathtaking, more stunning, than she had that evening. Her luxurious ebony hair had a soft curl to it, and her bangs were gently swept across her face. She was wearing a lovely mid-length dress with a scarf wrapped loosely around the long and elegant slope of her neck. Her make-up was understated and soft, making her appear younger than her 35 years. Her unlined face was flawless. To look at her, you’d never know this was a woman who had endured hard manual labor and days and nights of worrying about her son, her finances, and her judgment in God’s eyes for the last two decades.
The tension between the two of them had been palpable but neither uncomfortable nor unwelcome. Though they had dined together countless times, they both innately recognized this dinner was different. Their relationship had shifted and neither woman knew exactly what the new rules were. It was hard to act normally around one another when just a few days ago she’d tearfully screamed out her love for her best friend in the middle of a graveyard, and then grabbed her like a caveman and dragged her off to marry a man they both knew she didn’t love. And so as they sat down to dine, they shyly looked at one another, nervous laughter escaping at inopportune times. Olivia, for the first time in her life, realized what it felt like to be on a first date. “It looks very… beefy.” In retrospect, Olivia believed those might have been the silliest, most inappropriate, and downright oddest four words she had ever spoken aloud.
Olivia knew that people referred to her as a man-eater, and while she found the term to be mildly offensive, she was honest enough to recognize that it wasn’t an entirely inaccurate description. She had certainly been through a lot of men in her life, sometimes searching for love, sometimes comfort, sometimes power, sometimes oblivion. She knew how to seduce; she knew the right words and how to say them in the right tone of voice. She knew the moves, how to sensually sway her hips, the subtly flirtatious mannerisms that seemed subconscious but were actually well thought out, planned and purposeful. She had mastered the throaty laugh, the coy glance, and the perfect faux-bashful lip nibble. Her instincts had never failed her; she had always gotten the man she wanted. And yet now, with her best friend, a woman she should be infinitely comfortable with, she was anxious, shy, scared, and reduced to saying things like “It looks very… beefy.” Honestly, I’m a hot mess here! What she does to me is astounding… I’ve never, ever felt this way before. I’m kinda on a date with Natalia here and I don’t have the slightest idea what I’m supposed to be doing.
Olivia recognized that part of her confusion stemmed from the fact that she didn’t want to seduce Natalia. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way, as a conquest to be triumphed or a goal to be obtained. Those behaviors, even when Olivia loved the man to whom they were directed, were always part of a conscious manipulation, a power-play to get something she wanted in return. So seduction was off the table. Olivia had tried being a self-sacrificing martyr for the previous five or six months, and she knew all too well the disastrous results that had come from that line of action. So with neither the role of seductress nor Cyrano at her disposal, Olivia didn’t know exactly how to show Natalia that she loved her, cherished her and desired her. And that was what she wanted, more than anything- to make her best friend feel adored, treasured, and special. Not knowing how to do that apparently turned Olivia into a giddy school girl.
Their impromptu date had been filled with the smallest magical moments. Following their unprompted simultaneous declaration of “Banana Pancakes!” an utterly magnificent smile had erupted on Natalia’s face. They had both laughed about the absurdity of Emma’s phrase. Olivia had rarely laughed before she met Natalia. She just never slowed down long enough to pay any mind to the small things in life. She was always surprised at how much she laughed with Natalia because her ex-girlfriend wasn’t someone who would normally be described as funny, she was certainly no comedienne. Her humor was subtle, nuanced, and often surprising. And she was so, so lovely when she laughed, with her head thrown back, eyes closed, and her perfect, pearly teeth gleaming. Sometimes, when she let her mind wander to those dangerous places, Olivia wondered if that was what Natalia would look like in the throes of ecstasy.
She remembered Natalia’s shy gazes; Natalia reaching her hand across the table, over the bread bowl, to clutch Olivia’s own outstretched hand to say grace. Natalia chastising her for overspending on additional copies of books or dry cleaning. Early in their friendship, Natalia’s mothering, as Olivia had thought of it, seemed patronizing and condescending; it infuriated her that Natalia treated her like an impetuous child.
As time wore on, Olivia came to realize Natalia’s ‘mothering’ for what it truly was: one of the many ways Natalia showed she cared for someone. She cared for Olivia and wanted her in her life, not just now but always; that was why she nearly harassed her about her diet, medication and exercise. Natalia wanted to take care of Olivia, to make life a little easier for the powerful yet perpetually stressed businesswoman; that was why she didn’t want Olivia to waste time or money going to the dry cleaners or running simple errands that Natalia could do for her. She wanted to prepare delicious and healthy meals for Olivia, instead of watching her rely on room service and the Buzz burgers that had almost certainly contributed to the near-fatal heart condition. Olivia had noticed on occasion her ex-girlfriend’s deep interest in Olivia’s own appreciation of food. She always let Olivia take the first bite of a meal and watched her reaction carefully. Olivia came to believe that Natalia was looking for affirmation that she had made Olivia happy. These were the ways Natalia had learned to show Olivia that she loved her when she hadn’t been brave enough to say the words aloud.
....
Matt walked around the table to pull out her chair and she gracefully lowered herself. “Oh, thank you,” she said politely, crossing her legs. Matt awkwardly lifted her chair to scoot her closer to the table but the maneuver was clumsy and uncomfortable. “Oh, there ya go,” she said as he released the chair.
“There,” he replied as he walked to the other side of the table. Olivia let out a breath of a laugh, not because her date warranted it, but rather because the ridiculousness of the entire situation warranted it. What the hell am I doing here? With Matt? I should’ve called Josh instead.
In a place in her heart that she refused to acknowledge, she knew why she didn’t call Josh. They had engaged in too many close calls recently. She had made some catastrophic decisions in her attempt to cope with both Natalia’s disappearance and her return to Springfield. She really wasn’t even attracted to Josh, though he was a good-looking man and she loved him dearly, albeit platonically. So why had she bolted to his embrace so many times in the last two months? Josh was familliar, he was willing, he was understanding, and he was there. He had been there when Natalia hadn’t. As much as Olivia had changed over the last year and a half, when she felt abandoned, terrified, anxious and lonely, she unwillingly slipped back into her comfortable old habits. And Josh was about as comfortable as she could find, given Natalia’s disappearance.
So instead she called Matt. Safe, boring, unappealing Matt. Even though she told herself that she owed Natalia nothing, and fidelity least of all, she didn’t want to be that Olivia Spencer anymore. She owed herself and her daughters more than that. She had promised herself that she would no longer rely on sex and alcohol to balm her stinging soul. She had been single and celibate for a long time now, how difficult would it be to tack on a few more months? She’d use the time to get over Natalia and then search for love once again. Although she doubted she’d ever find another love like this one. Screw it. Who needs love? I’ve got Emma, and Ava, and plenty of work to focus on. I can live a full and fulfilling life without love or passion. It only leads to heartache. It always leads to heartache.
She reached for the menu the maître d had extended toward her and then turned her body toward Matt, who was in the process of sitting in his own chair. “Oh, hey, nobody’s done that for me in a long time.” She glanced from the maître d' to Matt, and then down to her menu as she shifted in her chair again, trying to inch it closer to the table.Must’ve been a long time since Matt’s done this, too. A little rusty, I think.
“Oh, you’ve been dating the wrong people,” he answered smugly, taking his own menu while glancing at Olivia. She pretended to study the menu; she already knew it by heart, given her frequent patronage of the restaurant, but she couldn’t stand to look at goofy, happy Matt. He seemed so pleased to be on a date with her. Olivia realized this whole scene seemed eerily familiar. This reminds me of Frank, chasing after Natalia when it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. He always had that dopey grin, just so damn happy to be around her. How pathetic.
It dawned on her, suddenly, that she probably looked that way around Natalia, too. She was so beautiful, so thoughtful, and so easy to love, and Olivia had been grateful for every moment she had been able to spend with her. When they had lived together she had raced home in the evenings, anxious to be near her. Once she moved back to The Beacon she had taken to waking up a few minutes earlier than usual so she and Natalia could have a precious bit of alone time each morning before they went their separate ways, both doing their part to make The Beacon a successful enterprise. And just as Frank couldn’t hide his elation, nor could Olivia. She remembered running into Buzz just days before the Bauer Barbeque; he had noticed the change in Olivia. She could no longer hide the joy and love she felt for Natalia and other people could see it, too.
“Hmm,” Olivia muttered equivocally. She turned her body to completely face the table and silently chastised herself for letting her mind wander. She needed to engage with Matt if she was going to forget about Natalia, even if for just an hour or so. She was desperate to take her mind off her ex, given that she had dominated her thoughts so completely since her return. “So… thank you for showing up on such short notice,” she said in the soft, tantalizing register that had become second nature in her pursuits of men. Her body betrayed her, however, and subconsciously leaned away from him in an effort to create distance from the man she really wanted nothing from.
He looked at her intently. “Well, thank you for rescuing me from my horrible day,” he smiled.
“Oh no, I needed this,” she explained, her hand touching her heart as she nodded, trying to convince herself as much as she was convincing Matt. “I really needed this. I needed to get out,” she smiled politely. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had dinner with a grown-up.”
“Same here,” he nodded.
She forced a laugh; Natalia would have known it was contrived but Matt seemed content to buy it. Olivia wondered if he thought he was funny, if he believed he made her laugh by his simple agreement with her. She had learned quickly while falling in love with Natalia that women were complicated. Confusing. Complex. Fucking Rubik’s Cube-esque at times. But Olivia knew she wasn’t one to ever back down from a challenge and she had basked in the thrill of discovering all the complexities and intricacies that were Natalia.
By comparison, her recent interactions with men in general, Matt and Rick specifically, had highlighted the simplicity and subtle egocentrism of men to her. Olivia was by no means a man-hater, and she was self-aware enough to readily admit that she was, more often than not, egocentric, self-absorbed, and selfish. But she had the capacity to cast those less desirable characteristics aside when necessary. She was well-versed enough in etiquette and business savvy to know how to make another person feel as though they had her complete and undivided attention. She knew how to play nice when she had to. And God knows, in the months leading up to the wedding-that-wasn’t, she learned a hell of a lot about self-sacrifice and her surprising ability to put someone else’s needs, wants, desires, and happiness above her own. Not simply delaying her own gratification, but literally annihilating herself in an effort to make another person happy. She knew this was characteristic of many women; putting your own needs on hold indefinitely was practically a prerequisite for being a mother.
She suspected the differences arose from the way little boys and little girls were nurtured and taught to interact with one another. Little boys were taught to compete, to show bravado, to be independent, to be leaders and decision makers and to demand attention. They weren’t socialized to consider other people’s thoughts because they were focused on forming their own. Little girls were taught to nurture one another, to compromise, to defer to others, to put others’ needs above their own. They were socialized to consider and value the thoughts and opinions of other children. And so it seemed to Olivia that women had an innately greater ability to read other people.
Men took others at their word; they’re straight-shooters and mean what they say. Women recognized that others, particularly other women, were never quite what they seemed. So Matt, seeing Olivia laugh, believed he was the cause of her small burst of joy, and congratulated himself of how well the date was going already. Rick, poor hapless Rick, saw Olivia lick her lips in an attempt to save him from certain embarrassment and actually had the audacity to ask her if she was trying to tell him that she wanted to sleep with him.
But Natalia, sweet and beautiful Natalia was an enigma at times. Every time Olivia felt like she had figured out the quiet woman, she’d surprise the older woman, who would realize how much more she had to learn, how much more she desperately wanted to learn. Early on, she had pegged Natalia as a pious, devout, and most likely judgmental feisty-Christ-y, and Natalia had surprised her by showing her compassion even when Olivia was at her worst. In an effort to make sense of the unexpected kindness, she reorganized her beliefs and decided the beautiful woman was pious, devout, innocent, and naïve. But then she hustled Josh and Jeffrey at the pool table and laughed about it later, actually implying that she knew she could intentionally mislead others based on their beliefs about her. So Olivia once again revised her impression of the woman she was growing to love. She was pious, devout, not-so-innocent and yet certainly not sinful enough to engage in anything beyond a close, platonic relationship with Olivia. And then… those two words. “It will…” she had said softly, her dark eyes warm, reassuring Olivia. “I want it to. Don’t you?” Those two simple words, six letters, had been the biggest, most astonishing surprise that had ever been unveiled in Olivia’s presence. And suddenly, both her impression of Natalia and her entire world flipped upside down, inside-out, and she was left reeling at the possibilities.
Stop thinking about her! She pulled herself back into the moment. “It’s good to check out the competitions menu!” she said lightly.
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Yep,” she said, sitting up straighter in her seat.
“Well, then I’m gonna let you pick the wine,” he said, passing the menu over the table and into Olivia’s hands.
“Ohhh,” she responded, slightly annoyed though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. Was it because he seemed so genuinely content while she was barely holding her sanity together? Was it because he was deferring decisions to her, when he was the man and all she wanted tonight was a stereotypical, traditional, boy-meets-girl, uncomplicated date? Or was it just that he wasn’t her… and no matter what he did, it wouldn’t be enough? His dimples were cute, but they didn’t stop her in her tracks, they didn’t light his face the way Natalia’s did. Olivia knew it wasn’t fair to compare him to the woman she loved; he’d come up short every time. So why am I here?
Briefly, her mind supplied an image of Natalia sitting in Matt’s seat. She knew without a doubt that Natalia wanted to be together and would move Heaven and Earth for an opportunity to take Olivia on a date. Hell, she had tried to guerilla date her just a few days ago, luring Olivia to the roof at The Beacon for a simple and romantic breakfast. This could be their night. An intentional first date, taking place four months later, but in the exact same spot as their accidental first date.
“Takes the pressure off of me,” he added cheerfully, leaning back in his chair to gaze upon her.
“I can do that.” She turned her attention to the wine list. “Hmm, do you like red wine or white wine?” She lifted her gaze and turned her attention, the part of her attention that she could control from wandering to thoughts of Natalia, back to him.
“I am, uh, a red guy.”
Olivia briefly thought of Matt being more of a green guy, with his eco-friendly bicycle and knit shopping sacks. Why can’t I stop? I can be nice… she taught me to see the best in others. But I can’t take him seriously. I can’t take this date seriously. And Jesus fuck! I’m thinking about her again!
She flashed a smile, determined to fall into her full flirtation Olivia Spencer persona. She had invited him here; she owed him the decency to act like she wanted to be there with him. “I’m a red, too, so we’re in good shape.”
“OK,” he replied.
And then the silence began. Olivia looked up from her menu; Matt was looking at her expectantly, as though it was her turn to say something even though he had contributed nothing with his simple agreement.
When the silence became unbearably awkward, Matt made an attempt to get the conversation going again. “This is nice. It is nice. You know? Being out, being relaxed, having a good time.”
This is the most banal and inane conversation I’ve ever had the displeasure of being subjected to. Well, maybe not entire true. She’d certainly had to endure many a conversation with Frank. She’d learned to dig her fingernails into the palm of her hands during those dreadful exchanges. The simple act served two purposes. First, it quite simply kept her awake. Frank could lull her to sleep faster than 3 extra-dry Grey Goose martinis followed by a round or two of exceptional sex. But it was additionally an outlet for her frustration. Over the course of the last two years Olivia had frequently found herself wanting to tell Frank that she thought he was a blithering idiot, and incompetent fool, or a judgmental prick. Instead, she metaphorically bit her tongue by piercing her nails into her hands to distract herself from saying what she believed Frank needed to hear. Natalia had done that. She had taught her to be a kinder, gentler Olivia. And Olivia had complied, knowing that it pleased Natalia.
“Yeah, me too,” she nodded along noncommittally as she pressed her well-manicured nails into her flesh. Anything for a distraction, I guess. They stared at each other once again, Olivia wondering exactly how long this evening was going to last.
*To Be Continued*
Author: mysticaldream
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia Spencer/Natalia Rivera
Spoilers: This story begins at the end of the 8/31/2009 episode and includes flashbacks/references to earlier scenes, both canon and fictitious. This story will deviate from canon at the end of the 8/31/2009 episode.
Summary: Natalia pursues Olivia after returning from the retreat.
Rating: Will range from PG-NC17.
Disclaimer: The characters herein, including Olivia Spencer, Natalia Rivera, Emma Spencer, Matt Reardon, Maureen Reardon, Frank Cooper, Rick Bauer, Doris Wolfe and Buzz Cooper belong to Proctor & Gamble, TeleNext Media, and/or CBS. I do not own them nor am I making any profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: This story alternates between Olivia's and Natalia's POV and also sometimes between memories/flashbacks and present tense. I will do my best to make the differences clear. This is my first attempt at fanfic; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Thanks for reading. This is also my first attempt at posting on a LJ-community. If I've messed anything up, please someone tell me!
Chapter One - Olivia Spencer
She reluctantly followed him into Towers, trying to pleasantly make conversation while her mind was still reeling, trying to make sense of what she was doing here with him. She knew this was only going to lead to disappointment at best, or another notch on her bad-decision bedpost at worst. She had just left Natalia standing outside of the mahogany door that graced the entrance to her penthouse suite at The Beacon. Olivia had told herself that it was her turn to walk away and leave Natalia wondering about where she was going, what she was doing, why she couldn’t be with her. All was fair in love and war, and she was simply giving Natalia a taste of her own medicine. So she offered Natalia little explanation beyond, “I can’t, it is too hard,” and walked away, refusing to look Natalia in the eye. She knew if she did, she wouldn’t have the strength to walk away. Her determined will to stay away from the woman who broke her heart was eroding away as Natalia seemed to come up with new and inventive ways to weasel her way back into Olivia’s life each day since her return from the retreat. So Olivia glanced down, stepped around Natalia and took off for the elevator, willing herself not to turn around and see the haunting sadness and rejection in the dark eyes she knew would be staring back at her, boring into her soul, begging for forgiveness.
The problem was, the whole love-and-war bit didn’t feel fair to Olivia. It felt heavy, oppressive; old habits that used to feel so comfortable now felt suffocating. I used to treat people this way all the time. I was masterful, an artist at being cold, being rude, being selfish. Before she… before I changed… before I changed for her. She honestly didn’t want to revert back to that woman, especially not in relation to Natalia. No matter how much she ached over Natalia’s disappearance and sudden reemergence, the child of Frank Cooper growing in her womb, she was still hopelessly tormented by her enduring love for her ex-girlfriend. It pained her to leave Natalia standing there as she casually disregarded their plans to go shopping together. Olivia avoided conscious deliberation about what this particular character trait said about her, but the truth was she had always relished in victorious revenge. Retribution felt like sweet justification and she had, at times, felt near orgasmic thrills at watching a foe writhe in defeat. Now it simply made her heart feel heavier, her body more tired as the guilt weighed her down.
“Olivia?” Matt interrupted her reflective musings. “Our table is ready.”
“Right,” she replied, allowing him to lead her past the bar and into the restaurant. She glanced sadly at the table to which they were being directed by the young maître d’. It was the exact table where she, Emma, and Natalia had dined following Emma’s school play and Rafe’s return to the halfway house back in April. Fucking cosmic karma. Natalia is probably praying outside my door and telling God that I hurt her feelings. He’s pissed at me; I’m convinced of it. Why the fuck else would I be stuck here with Matt sitting at the same table where she and I found ourselves accidentally and unexpectedly on a first… date?
First date? Could she call it that? Her heart skipped a beat at the memory; she recalled the way it had pounded in her chest all through dinner. She had been nervous, giddy, and uncharacteristically hopeful. I hardly remember what hopeful feels like anymore. I thought for sure that our life together was going to start that day. She honestly wasn’t sure she’d be able to endure the evening sitting there with Matt on their ‘date.’ All the tables in this joint and I get stuck sitting at the one that reminds me of my ex-girlfriend, the woman who shattered my heart- as if I didn’t spend enough time wallowing in thoughts of her. I have a heart condition, for fuck’s sake! This isn’t fair! Flashes of that April evening together inundated her psyche, and a tremor darted down her spine, eventually settling in her lower abdomen, in response.
....
Olivia was certain she had never in her life seen Natalia look more breathtaking, more stunning, than she had that evening. Her luxurious ebony hair had a soft curl to it, and her bangs were gently swept across her face. She was wearing a lovely mid-length dress with a scarf wrapped loosely around the long and elegant slope of her neck. Her make-up was understated and soft, making her appear younger than her 35 years. Her unlined face was flawless. To look at her, you’d never know this was a woman who had endured hard manual labor and days and nights of worrying about her son, her finances, and her judgment in God’s eyes for the last two decades.
The tension between the two of them had been palpable but neither uncomfortable nor unwelcome. Though they had dined together countless times, they both innately recognized this dinner was different. Their relationship had shifted and neither woman knew exactly what the new rules were. It was hard to act normally around one another when just a few days ago she’d tearfully screamed out her love for her best friend in the middle of a graveyard, and then grabbed her like a caveman and dragged her off to marry a man they both knew she didn’t love. And so as they sat down to dine, they shyly looked at one another, nervous laughter escaping at inopportune times. Olivia, for the first time in her life, realized what it felt like to be on a first date. “It looks very… beefy.” In retrospect, Olivia believed those might have been the silliest, most inappropriate, and downright oddest four words she had ever spoken aloud.
Olivia knew that people referred to her as a man-eater, and while she found the term to be mildly offensive, she was honest enough to recognize that it wasn’t an entirely inaccurate description. She had certainly been through a lot of men in her life, sometimes searching for love, sometimes comfort, sometimes power, sometimes oblivion. She knew how to seduce; she knew the right words and how to say them in the right tone of voice. She knew the moves, how to sensually sway her hips, the subtly flirtatious mannerisms that seemed subconscious but were actually well thought out, planned and purposeful. She had mastered the throaty laugh, the coy glance, and the perfect faux-bashful lip nibble. Her instincts had never failed her; she had always gotten the man she wanted. And yet now, with her best friend, a woman she should be infinitely comfortable with, she was anxious, shy, scared, and reduced to saying things like “It looks very… beefy.” Honestly, I’m a hot mess here! What she does to me is astounding… I’ve never, ever felt this way before. I’m kinda on a date with Natalia here and I don’t have the slightest idea what I’m supposed to be doing.
Olivia recognized that part of her confusion stemmed from the fact that she didn’t want to seduce Natalia. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way, as a conquest to be triumphed or a goal to be obtained. Those behaviors, even when Olivia loved the man to whom they were directed, were always part of a conscious manipulation, a power-play to get something she wanted in return. So seduction was off the table. Olivia had tried being a self-sacrificing martyr for the previous five or six months, and she knew all too well the disastrous results that had come from that line of action. So with neither the role of seductress nor Cyrano at her disposal, Olivia didn’t know exactly how to show Natalia that she loved her, cherished her and desired her. And that was what she wanted, more than anything- to make her best friend feel adored, treasured, and special. Not knowing how to do that apparently turned Olivia into a giddy school girl.
Their impromptu date had been filled with the smallest magical moments. Following their unprompted simultaneous declaration of “Banana Pancakes!” an utterly magnificent smile had erupted on Natalia’s face. They had both laughed about the absurdity of Emma’s phrase. Olivia had rarely laughed before she met Natalia. She just never slowed down long enough to pay any mind to the small things in life. She was always surprised at how much she laughed with Natalia because her ex-girlfriend wasn’t someone who would normally be described as funny, she was certainly no comedienne. Her humor was subtle, nuanced, and often surprising. And she was so, so lovely when she laughed, with her head thrown back, eyes closed, and her perfect, pearly teeth gleaming. Sometimes, when she let her mind wander to those dangerous places, Olivia wondered if that was what Natalia would look like in the throes of ecstasy.
She remembered Natalia’s shy gazes; Natalia reaching her hand across the table, over the bread bowl, to clutch Olivia’s own outstretched hand to say grace. Natalia chastising her for overspending on additional copies of books or dry cleaning. Early in their friendship, Natalia’s mothering, as Olivia had thought of it, seemed patronizing and condescending; it infuriated her that Natalia treated her like an impetuous child.
As time wore on, Olivia came to realize Natalia’s ‘mothering’ for what it truly was: one of the many ways Natalia showed she cared for someone. She cared for Olivia and wanted her in her life, not just now but always; that was why she nearly harassed her about her diet, medication and exercise. Natalia wanted to take care of Olivia, to make life a little easier for the powerful yet perpetually stressed businesswoman; that was why she didn’t want Olivia to waste time or money going to the dry cleaners or running simple errands that Natalia could do for her. She wanted to prepare delicious and healthy meals for Olivia, instead of watching her rely on room service and the Buzz burgers that had almost certainly contributed to the near-fatal heart condition. Olivia had noticed on occasion her ex-girlfriend’s deep interest in Olivia’s own appreciation of food. She always let Olivia take the first bite of a meal and watched her reaction carefully. Olivia came to believe that Natalia was looking for affirmation that she had made Olivia happy. These were the ways Natalia had learned to show Olivia that she loved her when she hadn’t been brave enough to say the words aloud.
....
Matt walked around the table to pull out her chair and she gracefully lowered herself. “Oh, thank you,” she said politely, crossing her legs. Matt awkwardly lifted her chair to scoot her closer to the table but the maneuver was clumsy and uncomfortable. “Oh, there ya go,” she said as he released the chair.
“There,” he replied as he walked to the other side of the table. Olivia let out a breath of a laugh, not because her date warranted it, but rather because the ridiculousness of the entire situation warranted it. What the hell am I doing here? With Matt? I should’ve called Josh instead.
In a place in her heart that she refused to acknowledge, she knew why she didn’t call Josh. They had engaged in too many close calls recently. She had made some catastrophic decisions in her attempt to cope with both Natalia’s disappearance and her return to Springfield. She really wasn’t even attracted to Josh, though he was a good-looking man and she loved him dearly, albeit platonically. So why had she bolted to his embrace so many times in the last two months? Josh was familliar, he was willing, he was understanding, and he was there. He had been there when Natalia hadn’t. As much as Olivia had changed over the last year and a half, when she felt abandoned, terrified, anxious and lonely, she unwillingly slipped back into her comfortable old habits. And Josh was about as comfortable as she could find, given Natalia’s disappearance.
So instead she called Matt. Safe, boring, unappealing Matt. Even though she told herself that she owed Natalia nothing, and fidelity least of all, she didn’t want to be that Olivia Spencer anymore. She owed herself and her daughters more than that. She had promised herself that she would no longer rely on sex and alcohol to balm her stinging soul. She had been single and celibate for a long time now, how difficult would it be to tack on a few more months? She’d use the time to get over Natalia and then search for love once again. Although she doubted she’d ever find another love like this one. Screw it. Who needs love? I’ve got Emma, and Ava, and plenty of work to focus on. I can live a full and fulfilling life without love or passion. It only leads to heartache. It always leads to heartache.
She reached for the menu the maître d had extended toward her and then turned her body toward Matt, who was in the process of sitting in his own chair. “Oh, hey, nobody’s done that for me in a long time.” She glanced from the maître d' to Matt, and then down to her menu as she shifted in her chair again, trying to inch it closer to the table.Must’ve been a long time since Matt’s done this, too. A little rusty, I think.
“Oh, you’ve been dating the wrong people,” he answered smugly, taking his own menu while glancing at Olivia. She pretended to study the menu; she already knew it by heart, given her frequent patronage of the restaurant, but she couldn’t stand to look at goofy, happy Matt. He seemed so pleased to be on a date with her. Olivia realized this whole scene seemed eerily familiar. This reminds me of Frank, chasing after Natalia when it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. He always had that dopey grin, just so damn happy to be around her. How pathetic.
It dawned on her, suddenly, that she probably looked that way around Natalia, too. She was so beautiful, so thoughtful, and so easy to love, and Olivia had been grateful for every moment she had been able to spend with her. When they had lived together she had raced home in the evenings, anxious to be near her. Once she moved back to The Beacon she had taken to waking up a few minutes earlier than usual so she and Natalia could have a precious bit of alone time each morning before they went their separate ways, both doing their part to make The Beacon a successful enterprise. And just as Frank couldn’t hide his elation, nor could Olivia. She remembered running into Buzz just days before the Bauer Barbeque; he had noticed the change in Olivia. She could no longer hide the joy and love she felt for Natalia and other people could see it, too.
“Hmm,” Olivia muttered equivocally. She turned her body to completely face the table and silently chastised herself for letting her mind wander. She needed to engage with Matt if she was going to forget about Natalia, even if for just an hour or so. She was desperate to take her mind off her ex, given that she had dominated her thoughts so completely since her return. “So… thank you for showing up on such short notice,” she said in the soft, tantalizing register that had become second nature in her pursuits of men. Her body betrayed her, however, and subconsciously leaned away from him in an effort to create distance from the man she really wanted nothing from.
He looked at her intently. “Well, thank you for rescuing me from my horrible day,” he smiled.
“Oh no, I needed this,” she explained, her hand touching her heart as she nodded, trying to convince herself as much as she was convincing Matt. “I really needed this. I needed to get out,” she smiled politely. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had dinner with a grown-up.”
“Same here,” he nodded.
She forced a laugh; Natalia would have known it was contrived but Matt seemed content to buy it. Olivia wondered if he thought he was funny, if he believed he made her laugh by his simple agreement with her. She had learned quickly while falling in love with Natalia that women were complicated. Confusing. Complex. Fucking Rubik’s Cube-esque at times. But Olivia knew she wasn’t one to ever back down from a challenge and she had basked in the thrill of discovering all the complexities and intricacies that were Natalia.
By comparison, her recent interactions with men in general, Matt and Rick specifically, had highlighted the simplicity and subtle egocentrism of men to her. Olivia was by no means a man-hater, and she was self-aware enough to readily admit that she was, more often than not, egocentric, self-absorbed, and selfish. But she had the capacity to cast those less desirable characteristics aside when necessary. She was well-versed enough in etiquette and business savvy to know how to make another person feel as though they had her complete and undivided attention. She knew how to play nice when she had to. And God knows, in the months leading up to the wedding-that-wasn’t, she learned a hell of a lot about self-sacrifice and her surprising ability to put someone else’s needs, wants, desires, and happiness above her own. Not simply delaying her own gratification, but literally annihilating herself in an effort to make another person happy. She knew this was characteristic of many women; putting your own needs on hold indefinitely was practically a prerequisite for being a mother.
She suspected the differences arose from the way little boys and little girls were nurtured and taught to interact with one another. Little boys were taught to compete, to show bravado, to be independent, to be leaders and decision makers and to demand attention. They weren’t socialized to consider other people’s thoughts because they were focused on forming their own. Little girls were taught to nurture one another, to compromise, to defer to others, to put others’ needs above their own. They were socialized to consider and value the thoughts and opinions of other children. And so it seemed to Olivia that women had an innately greater ability to read other people.
Men took others at their word; they’re straight-shooters and mean what they say. Women recognized that others, particularly other women, were never quite what they seemed. So Matt, seeing Olivia laugh, believed he was the cause of her small burst of joy, and congratulated himself of how well the date was going already. Rick, poor hapless Rick, saw Olivia lick her lips in an attempt to save him from certain embarrassment and actually had the audacity to ask her if she was trying to tell him that she wanted to sleep with him.
But Natalia, sweet and beautiful Natalia was an enigma at times. Every time Olivia felt like she had figured out the quiet woman, she’d surprise the older woman, who would realize how much more she had to learn, how much more she desperately wanted to learn. Early on, she had pegged Natalia as a pious, devout, and most likely judgmental feisty-Christ-y, and Natalia had surprised her by showing her compassion even when Olivia was at her worst. In an effort to make sense of the unexpected kindness, she reorganized her beliefs and decided the beautiful woman was pious, devout, innocent, and naïve. But then she hustled Josh and Jeffrey at the pool table and laughed about it later, actually implying that she knew she could intentionally mislead others based on their beliefs about her. So Olivia once again revised her impression of the woman she was growing to love. She was pious, devout, not-so-innocent and yet certainly not sinful enough to engage in anything beyond a close, platonic relationship with Olivia. And then… those two words. “It will…” she had said softly, her dark eyes warm, reassuring Olivia. “I want it to. Don’t you?” Those two simple words, six letters, had been the biggest, most astonishing surprise that had ever been unveiled in Olivia’s presence. And suddenly, both her impression of Natalia and her entire world flipped upside down, inside-out, and she was left reeling at the possibilities.
Stop thinking about her! She pulled herself back into the moment. “It’s good to check out the competitions menu!” she said lightly.
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Yep,” she said, sitting up straighter in her seat.
“Well, then I’m gonna let you pick the wine,” he said, passing the menu over the table and into Olivia’s hands.
“Ohhh,” she responded, slightly annoyed though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. Was it because he seemed so genuinely content while she was barely holding her sanity together? Was it because he was deferring decisions to her, when he was the man and all she wanted tonight was a stereotypical, traditional, boy-meets-girl, uncomplicated date? Or was it just that he wasn’t her… and no matter what he did, it wouldn’t be enough? His dimples were cute, but they didn’t stop her in her tracks, they didn’t light his face the way Natalia’s did. Olivia knew it wasn’t fair to compare him to the woman she loved; he’d come up short every time. So why am I here?
Briefly, her mind supplied an image of Natalia sitting in Matt’s seat. She knew without a doubt that Natalia wanted to be together and would move Heaven and Earth for an opportunity to take Olivia on a date. Hell, she had tried to guerilla date her just a few days ago, luring Olivia to the roof at The Beacon for a simple and romantic breakfast. This could be their night. An intentional first date, taking place four months later, but in the exact same spot as their accidental first date.
“Takes the pressure off of me,” he added cheerfully, leaning back in his chair to gaze upon her.
“I can do that.” She turned her attention to the wine list. “Hmm, do you like red wine or white wine?” She lifted her gaze and turned her attention, the part of her attention that she could control from wandering to thoughts of Natalia, back to him.
“I am, uh, a red guy.”
Olivia briefly thought of Matt being more of a green guy, with his eco-friendly bicycle and knit shopping sacks. Why can’t I stop? I can be nice… she taught me to see the best in others. But I can’t take him seriously. I can’t take this date seriously. And Jesus fuck! I’m thinking about her again!
She flashed a smile, determined to fall into her full flirtation Olivia Spencer persona. She had invited him here; she owed him the decency to act like she wanted to be there with him. “I’m a red, too, so we’re in good shape.”
“OK,” he replied.
And then the silence began. Olivia looked up from her menu; Matt was looking at her expectantly, as though it was her turn to say something even though he had contributed nothing with his simple agreement.
When the silence became unbearably awkward, Matt made an attempt to get the conversation going again. “This is nice. It is nice. You know? Being out, being relaxed, having a good time.”
This is the most banal and inane conversation I’ve ever had the displeasure of being subjected to. Well, maybe not entire true. She’d certainly had to endure many a conversation with Frank. She’d learned to dig her fingernails into the palm of her hands during those dreadful exchanges. The simple act served two purposes. First, it quite simply kept her awake. Frank could lull her to sleep faster than 3 extra-dry Grey Goose martinis followed by a round or two of exceptional sex. But it was additionally an outlet for her frustration. Over the course of the last two years Olivia had frequently found herself wanting to tell Frank that she thought he was a blithering idiot, and incompetent fool, or a judgmental prick. Instead, she metaphorically bit her tongue by piercing her nails into her hands to distract herself from saying what she believed Frank needed to hear. Natalia had done that. She had taught her to be a kinder, gentler Olivia. And Olivia had complied, knowing that it pleased Natalia.
“Yeah, me too,” she nodded along noncommittally as she pressed her well-manicured nails into her flesh. Anything for a distraction, I guess. They stared at each other once again, Olivia wondering exactly how long this evening was going to last.
*To Be Continued*