Livvy (49 page)

“This,” I say vaguely. He stops again, this time pulling away to look at me suspiciously, his eyes narrowed.

I grin coyly, and he tickles me behind my knee. “Stop playing games with me, Olivia,” he says sternly with enunciated syllables, angling his body away from the oncoming reflexive kick.

“Okay.” I bite my lip, trying to hide my smile. The corners of his mouth raise, and he looks so happy and peaceful and settled. “Coming back here for the summer,” I say to him.

“What about it?” He lifts my shirt and kisses my stomach.

“It’s not a good idea.”

Once more, he pauses. I giggle at his reaction. “Not this, Jon! Keep going.” I run my fingers up his back and shoulders, trying to encourage him.

“Wait a minute, Liv.” He puts my clothes back in place and pushes his body off of mine. “What are you saying?”

“I just keep thinking that there will be other opportunities that may be better timed than this one.” I shrug, looking beyond him because I’m afraid to see his response.

“Last night, you were committed to this thing,” he says.

“That was before I woke up with you this morning... and realized that I want this more than a summer away from you.”

“No no no no no,” he says quickly. “That’s not what I was hinting at, Liv. You should definitely do this.”

“And I want to,” I tell him, “but I want to share this experience with you. I just don’t think it will be as fulfilling without you, and–”

“Olivia, wait. Listen,” he starts. “You have thrived without me before, need I remind you? You don’t need me to be with you when you create. You absolutely can do this without me.”

“I don’t want to, though, Jon. I am better with you.”

“Livvy, you have created some of the most incredible pieces of artwork this world has ever seen... in my
absence
.”

“That right there,” I say, “that makes me nervous. The thought of being better without you. I don’t ever want that to be the truth.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying you’re equally competent either way. You have to know that, and believe that. The three paintings you did last month are...
phenomenal
, Liv. As good as–if not better than–the ones you painted last summer. I am neither an influence nor a distraction to you. Understand that. Right now.”

He sounds so stern. “Are you mad at me?”

“I can’t let you feel insecure about your talent. You have nothing to feel uncertain about. Your creativity will catapult you to success here. With or without me.”

“I know, but–” He places his finger over my lips before I can continue, then kisses me.

“No buts,” he says, leaning back into me and putting his arm around me. “If anyone has anything to be insecure about this summer, with you here with all of these new people and experiences, and me back in New York, it’ll
definitely
be me.”

I stare at him, hard. “Seriously?” I say, angry.

“What?”

I wriggle out from beneath him and climb off the bed, heading straight for the drawer with my clothes, and then to the bathroom. I slam the door behind me, wishing it had a lock.

“Liv,” he says through the door, following it up with a knock. I start the shower, undressing quickly and stepping in. “Livvy, I’m coming in,” he follows up, but I can tell from his voice he’s already in the bathroom with me.

“How can you say that?” I ask him.

Naked, he pulls back the shower curtain and starts to get under the stream of water with me.

“Get out,” I tell him angrily.

“Liv, your parents will be here any minute. Did you see what time it is?”

“No. What time is it?”

“Ten-fifteen.”
They said they’d be here between ten and ten-thirty.

“Fine,” I concede, making room for him in the tiny shower stall. “But don’t touch me.”

“Fine,” he says back to me, taking the shampoo I hand him. “You’re being very unreasonable.”

“Whatever,” I huff. “I just can’t believe you’re bringing this up!”

“What? I don’t even know what you think I was saying back there.”

“You’re the one who should be insecure? Why, Jon? Because I’m the one who cheated? I’m the one who kissed someone else?!”

“Liv–”

“No. If I haven’t assured you of my faithfulness by now, I don’t know how I could ever do it. Years of devotion. Weeks of letters. A wall of paintings. One tiny mistake. If that causes this sort of rift that can’t be fixed after nine months, then what hope do I have? I’ve done
everything
and–”

A knock comes from the door.

“Shit,” he says. “You’ve got to answer it.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I say sarcastically. I rinse my hair one last time and let the water wash over my body, ridding it of any lingering suds. He stays in the shower as I pull on my cotton dress, my hair still dripping wet. I brush it on my way to the door, closing off the bathroom on my way out.

Looking around the small apartment, I wish I’d at least made the bed... I kick the rest of our discarded clothes underneath it, hoping things are hidden enough.

“Hey, guys,” I say with forced cheerfulness, inviting them in.

“Late start?” Mom asks.

“We overslept,” I tell them both. “Jon just got into the shower.”

“That’s fine. We’re not in any hurry,” Dad says, taking a seat on the couch.

“Were you going to dry your hair, sweetie?” Mom asks. I shrug, not really caring. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” I lie, sitting down in front of a full-length mirror. “I’m just not fully awake yet. I’ll get the hair dryer when Jon’s out. I’ll do my makeup. You can get some water or soda or something, if you want.”

Dad goes to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water. He hands one to my mom before placing himself in front of the window overlooking the back yard. He quietly sips his water as I rush to put on some powder and eyeliner.

When Jon turns the water off, an awkward silence sets over the apartment. The creaky bathroom door startles me.

“Liv,” Jon says quietly.

“What?” I ask. I hadn’t meant to sound so annoyed, even though I am. “Yes?” I say, amending my response to him, but still not looking his way.

“I um... hey, Emi,” he says, seeing my mother sitting on the edge of the bed. I turn around to see her, noticing that she straightened the linens.

“Good morning, Jon,” she says. “Jacks, we should wait in the car.”

Finally, I look in Jon’s direction. “Clothes,” he mumbles to me. “They’re in the dresser.”

“We’ll be downstairs,” my father announces, practically running to the door. Mom smiles at me, squeezing my shoulder on her way out.

“Sorry,” I tell Jon, getting up quickly once I realize his problem. With my parents, gone, though, he walks out of the bathroom, holding a towel around his waist. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ve got it. Just finish getting ready.” He’s equally short with me.

“They’ll wait,” I assure him.

“The longer they wait, the longer your dad’s going to have to stew over why we’re running late in the first place.”

“Jon–”

“I’d prefer to never again be naked and ten feet away from him, okay? Is that such a ridiculous thing to ask?”

I duck my head into my lap and laugh to myself, feeling my cheeks blush. I hide all evidence of levity when I look up again, still remembering the conversation he began that ruined our morning. I finish putting on mascara, watching him in the mirror as he pulls on his clothes and towel dries his hair. He puts on his glasses, and I can’t help but notice how cute he looks. It’s rare that he wears shorts, so when he does, he seems so boyish to me. His messy hair and skater sneakers make him look like the teen he no longer is.

I immediately soften, recognizing how much I love him, even when I’m mad at him. It’s a good thing, too, because I don’t want to be fighting in front of my parents all day.

“Is this okay?” he asks, holding his arms out for inspection.

“You look nice,” I tell him, standing and facing him.

“You do, too,” he concedes. I walk up to him and give him a hug. “Let’s just be civil today, but I would like the chance to explain myself later.”

“Okay. I’m sure we’ll have some time to ourselves. I’m going to dry my hair, and then I’ll be ready. Can you gather my things?”

“Yep,” he answers, kissing my forehead before releasing me.

“So, since we’ve seen the city, I thought we might drive around the island today,” Dad says.

The island goes from bustling city to beautiful, pristine nature quickly, with short mountains on one side and the ocean on the other. We can see the mainland not too far away, with lots of boats in the sea between the island and Brazil proper. There are a few places where tourists have pulled over to take pictures, but every time my dad tries to follow their lead, my mom convinces him to drive on. We travel for another twenty minutes before we pull onto what may have once been a gravel road, but has since been overrun with tall grasses. Dad pops the trunk, grabbing my mother’s camera from the back. Jon stays still when I start to get out.

“Are you coming?” I ask him.

“In a minute.”

“Okay,” I whisper, allowing him to take his time. I hear the trunk close and watch my parents wander through some of the weeds, carefully watching their steps along the way. Dad follows Mom closely, keeping his finger linked with hers.

Once out of the car and armed with my camera, I stop in my tracks to truly take in the entirety of my surroundings. It smells like the ocean and sounds like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Gentle lapping waves break the shoreline that I can’t see from my vantage point. A few birds take turns singing their tunes. I’ve never heard these birds before. The view, though, is incomparable to anything I’ve ever seen. Never has the world seemed so vast. The clear sky is endless against the ocean, which also stretches its way into nothingness. The vision actually fools my eyes, making it hard to distinguish where one entity ends and the other begins. In what I thought was only water, I see a ship in the distance, and then another. As I look harder, there are more boats breaking up the horizon line. I’m guessing they’re fishing boats, having heard that fishing was big business down here. I walk in the direction opposite my parents, toward the mountains and not the ocean, hoping that I can find a spot higher up that will allow me to see the place where this island meets the water. At one point, I look back, seeing my parents watching me. I wave at them, letting them know I’m okay. They wave back and continue on. As they walk, I take out my camera and zoom in on them, capturing them. Dad has his arm across my mother’s shoulders, and her head rests on his. I know instantly it’s one of my favorite pictures I’ve ever taken.

Those are my parents. They’re the best parents in the world. Truly, no matter what other man and woman created me, these two people are the only two parents I ever want to know. May Simone DeLuca rest in peace, and I do thank her for my life, but I can’t imagine it without Mom and Dad. And as for Isaiah Grate... he’s just a man that has my eyes and recognizes my smile who sculpts things. That’s all he will ever be to me.

I see movement from the car, noticing that Jon is finally getting out, his sketchpad in hand. I walk a little farther up until the beach appears just past the tall grass. There are no people on the beach, but there’s a sailboat not too far that might be headed this way. The only way to access this beach would be from a boat. I imagine what it would be like, having a beach all to myself. I snap a picture of the colorful sail against the deep blue water. I could stay up here all day, and look for a place to sit down. A tree stump, a dry patch of–

“Ahhh!” I scream, seeing something slither across the ground next to me.

“What’s wrong?” I hear Jon yell, but I’m unable to take my eyes off of the snake that now seems just as frozen as I am. I wonder if it fears me the way I fear it, or if it’s thinking I’d make a good meal. I try to recognize its markings from my earth science class, but I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not. I take a step away from it, but it inches a little closer to me.

“Contessa? What is it?”

“Snake,” I say quietly, testing my voice, not wanting to provoke the reptile. I know that no one can hear me, so I say it a little louder, watching the subtle movement of the snake’s tail. Will it be like a dog, and straighten out before it lunges at me? “Snake!” The animal doesn’t seem phased by my voice.

“Stay here, Em,” my dad says. “Jon, just grab whatever you can from the car.”

I finally get the nerve to look away, and my dad is much closer than I expect him to be. It seemed to take me so long getting up this hill, but I guess I was just too busy taking in the scenery to make a quick trip out of its ascension.

“Can you describe it to me?” Dad asks.

“It’s dark with... I don’t know, with lighter brown zigzags or something.”

“Slowly now... take a step toward me.” I do as he asks. “Did it move?”

“Not this time.”