The Dark Side of the Rainbow (35 page)

Pulling her into his arms, Landon rested his cheek against the top of her soft curls. “I had been desperate for you.” After a few moments, he added, “Let me show you the rest of the house.”

He turned her toward the kitchen.

“Wow! It’s very gourmet, but neither of us cook!”

“It’s for Gaston when he comes over to visit.”

Olivia laughed. “Natasha will teach me how to make at least a few dishes.”

Landon showed her the upstairs bedrooms, saving the best for last.

“Here is the master suite. It too is on the southwest side. Can you imagine waking up to this view every morning?”

“I can imagine enjoying this view while doing a number of things.”

“Temptress,” he teased.

Reaching for her hand, he led her through the door that connected their bedroom with her studio.

“This room is for you, Olivia. I thought we could buy a large draft table for you to spread out your pictures while you work. The closet is big enough to convert into a darkroom. You’ll always have the view to inspire you. Do you think this will be a good workspace?”

Olivia nodded. “Thank you, Landon. I love everything about our new home. I thought you didn’t want Norman Rockwell?”

“I don’t. I only want you.”

* * *

O
ver the course of the next few months their life settled into a normal routine. After kissing her husband goodbye each morning as he headed off to work, Olivia spent her days poring over magazines for ideas on how to decorate the house. In between designing, and cooking lessons with Natasha, she continued her work on the photos of Patagonia she would submit to various publishers.

The first dish she made as a wife was lasagna. This time when she served Landon a piece, it was a perfectly layered mass of goodness instead of the soupy gloppy mess of her first attempt.

“You can make lasagna for me any time, baby. This is really good.”

Proud of herself, she smiled, then asked him about his day.

After the kitchen had been cleaned, they sat together on their temporary couch while she showed him her ideas for furnishing the great room.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I think it all looks great.”

Olivia was close to finalizing the plans for the whole house and was a little concerned that Landon had agreed with her on virtually everything.

When he noticed her furrowed brows, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

“You would never say things simply to appease me, would you?”

“Where is that coming from?”

“You haven’t disagreed with any of my ideas about the house. If I told you I wanted a hot pink sofa, I have a feeling you wouldn’t tell me no.”

“I like your ideas. I think you’re a good designer; it’s that artistic side of you that helps you know how to put things together. When have I ever said anything to you that I didn’t really mean?”

Olivia gave a slight huff before growing silent.

“What is really the matter?” Landon asked, feeling slightly irritated.

“We haven’t had a fight, ever.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m worried that things are a little too perfect. Where are the moments when I should be flinging plates at your head?” she asked a little sharply, right as she made a move to stand up from the couch.

Catching her wrists, Landon pulled her back down and said, “Oh no. You don’t get to say things like that and then walk away. If it’s conflict you want, I’ll give you something to argue over.

“There are only a few more places here in this area for you to photograph. Soon, you will be off on your next project, which will take you to who knows where. I can’t stand the thought of you leaving for days at a time without me. I want you here every day when I get home with the smell of fresh-baked cookies filling up the house.”

“That’s pretty selfish and chauvinistic of you,” she said.

“Are you trying to provoke me?”

“Maybe I am.” Olivia knew she sounded like a two-year-old, but she couldn’t help herself. “Natasha said it was healthy to have a good argument every now and then.”

Landon ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation when he realized that his sister had been giving marital advice to his wife.

“Olivia, Natasha and Gaston have a great marriage. They are madly in love with each other, but they are also very different than we are. You know the story of how they fell in love. We are not them. There will be plenty of things for us to argue about in the future.

“There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think about the possibility of you remembering your past. Chances are you will, but it could be years from now. I want you to have your memories back, to feel how much you loved Jacob and your father, but it worries me to think about how you will react when you also remember how you felt about me. Let’s not borrow trouble, all right?”

“I’m sorry,” she said a little forlornly. “And about me staying home, I’ve been thinking a lot about that too. I want to look into becoming an editor or possibly even an agent. Those are things I can do from home.”

He was surprised and pleased by her words. “What about your art? You’re too talented to let that go by the wayside.”

“I’ll be NLG’s official photographer for all the properties’ print materials. When you have to travel, I’ll go with you. I’ll plan in advance the things in nature I’d like to photograph. South America is a big continent. When you have to travel to Europe, even better. Until we have children, we can do weekend excursions, and we’ll have our vacations.”

“It sounds perfect,” he said with a grin.

Olivia laughed, “Oh, and there’s one more thing. I want you to hire me as an accounting consultant. I miss working with numbers. When you have something that looks off, or you need help crunching some data, I’m your person.”

“How much is that going to cost me?”

The look in her eyes softened. She kissed her husband sweetly on the lips. “For you, I only work for love.”

Tucking a stray strand of red hair behind Olivia’s ear, he said, “Now that is a price I can afford to pay in spades.”

* * *

S
ix months after Landon and Olivia’s marriage, Tomas and Shannon announced their engagement. Olivia was beside herself. Her friend had arrived a few days ago to Patagonia for vacation, not once suspecting that Tomas would propose to her. After Landon and Olivia’s wedding, Shannon had remained in Bariloche for three additional days. She and Tomas had been inseparable.

Over the course of the past six months they had seen each other only twice: once when Tomas took a week of vacation to visit her in Portland, and another time when Shannon flew to Patagonia over a long weekend. Aside from those few visits, their entire relationship and courtship had blossomed via FaceTime. Tomas had praised modern technology, stating that it would have been impossible to survive the last several months without seeing Shannon’s lovely face every day.

The first full day of her trip to Patagonia, Tomas whisked Shannon off to Buenos Aires. They had dinner and then saw a performance at the Teatro Colon, one of the world’s top five concert venues known for their phenomenal acoustics. Afterwards, they enjoyed a nightcap and dancing in the rooftop lounge of The Chase, one of NLG’s premier properties in Buenos Aires. While they moved to the music, Tomas had taken Shannon’s hand, placing it in his jacket pocket. When she felt the square velvet box, she stopped her body from swaying to the beat in response to the shock she felt. Tomas removed the princess cut diamond ring from its plush encasing. When he placed it on her finger, his words were simple: “I don’t want to live without you; I love you, Shannon.”

When they arrived back in Bariloche, they invited Landon and Olivia to dinner to tell them the news.

“A toast,” Landon said, as he raised his glass to the couple.

“I couldn’t be happier for you both,” Olivia added. The sound of ringing crystal filled their small table at Dragonfly. “When is the big day?”

“Hopefully in a couple of months,” replied Tomas.

“We’re getting married in Portland. My grandparents aren’t well enough to make the journey, and my mother would be devastated if she couldn’t help me plan the wedding.”

“How will your parents take the news? It will be hard for them, knowing you will be moving to Patagonia.”

“They know how much I love Tomas.” Shannon smiled at her fiancé. “It will be hard, but they accepted it as a possibility the moment they met him.”

“We’ll fly them down as often as they like,” Tomas added.

Landon patted his friend and colleague on the back and then looked at Shannon. “I realize you already know this, but you are marrying a good man.”

“I can’t begin to describe how happy I am,” beamed the bride-to-be.

Later that night when they arrived home, Olivia couldn’t be more pleased. Soon, her friend would be here permanently. She couldn’t wait for Shannon to get to know Natasha; they would all be such close friends.

Standing before the mirror in her bathroom, Olivia looked down at the counter, searching through her various pots of cream and cosmetics for her makeup remover. Suddenly, a flash went off in her mind, like the blinding light of a camera.

Landon was sitting on the couch searching for the soccer game he had recorded when he heard his wife cry out in what sounded like pain.

Startled, and then panicked by the sound, he ran to the master bedroom. He could hear crying from the bathroom.

“Olivia!” he called, his heart pounding in his chest. He found her lying on the floor, her body convulsing from heart wrenching sobs.

Quickly he grabbed her. Lifting her up and into his arms, he carried her to the bed.

“Oh, God!” she cried out in agony. “I remember,” she sobbed over and over.

Landon’s gut clenched at the pain he knew she was feeling. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he crooned rocking her in his arms.

“Why?” she wailed. “Why, why, why?” Devastated and angry she pummeled her fists against Landon’s solid chest. With tears in his eyes he allowed her to vent all the pent up emotions. He had worried that the release would be bad, but he could never have prepared himself for this.

He didn’t know how many times she cried out asking why. He didn’t allow her angry words, “Why did you have to ask him to race?” to cause him to lose hope.
She loves me
, became his own internal cry.
She loves me
.

Exhausted from the deluge of emotions, too spent to shed another tear or utter another word, she lay in the fetal position on the bed and simply stared at the wall. She didn’t resist his presence, but neither did she turn to him for comfort. Eventually, Olivia fell asleep. After he covered her up, he left their bedroom to call his sister.

“Natasha, I’m sorry to call you so late.”

“Oh no, Landon! What’s happened? I can hear it in your voice.”

“She remembered.”

She could hear her brother’s attempt to stifle his own sorrow and knew it had not gone well.

“I’ll be right over.”

“No,” he said. “She’s sleeping. She may want you here in the morning. I only wanted—needed— to tell you. I’ll call you and let you know how she’s doing.”

As he lay beside his now slumbering wife, sleep eluded him. When he finally did go under it was a restless, fitful kind of slumber. Every time he was dragged back into consciousness, he heard the words in his mind,
she loves me
. Tossing onto his side, Landon grabbed hold of the thought like a drowning man before falling back under the weight of exhaustion.

When he woke the next morning, Olivia was no longer in bed. Panicked, he stood up and went in search of her. She was nowhere in the house. He opened the door to the garage and saw both cars there, his and the one he had bought for her.

He opened the door to the deck, hoping to find her sitting outside, but she wasn’t there either. Scanning the terrain he saw her walking in the valley. She was a speck on the horizon, having walked quite a distance. Landon could tell by her movement that she was making her way back to the house.

Unsure of what to do, afraid to see the anger—possibly contempt—in her eyes, he went to his home office and shut the door. He chose to sit in one of the two dark espresso club chairs rather than his desk. The chairs faced the only window in the room, but in a different direction than the deck. He could not see Olivia approaching from the distance.

He must have fallen asleep in the chair. Words and a touch to his hand startled him. With a small gasp of surprise, he sat up, feeling a little disorientated. Olivia was kneeling beside him, cupping his hand much the way she had the first morning in his suite at the Grand Vue.

He was relieved to see that there was no contempt in her eyes. Concerned with what she might say, he felt a little guarded.

“How are you doing, Olivia?”

“Getting better,” she replied as she let go of his hand and then sat on the plush carpet with her legs crossed.

“The first thing I remembered was a memory of the first time I wore makeup. Removing mine after dinner last night must have triggered something.

“Aunt Sarah had told me that putting on makeup was like a rite of passage. When I showed Jacob my new face, he had not been his usual supportive self. He had become sullen all of sudden. I followed him to the tree house to ask him what was wrong. It was the moment my brother realized we were both growing older. Gone were the days of our carefree lives. Time no longer seemed endless; moments of “always” seemed fewer and farther in between. As much as we wanted to avoid the inevitable, we both knew the day would come when we would begin lives of our own, different homes with our own families.”

Tears were flowing down her cheeks. “He made me promise we would always be there for each other. I remember him looking up at the ceiling of the tree house. Jacob had said with confidence that we were to keep our childhood playhouse intact so that one day we could take our children there and tell them about the castles we had stormed.”

The words, which were not meant to attack, felt like knives piercing his flesh. How many times had he looked at his own niece and nephew, knowing Jacob would never have children of his own? To this day it pained him to know what he had done.