Wishing Pearl (17 page)

Olivia nodded and gulped back her sobs.

The funeral director asked everyone to leave the room so the family could have a few moments alone with Jordyn before the service started.

Olivia, Mom, and Jake left the room as the director pulled the door shut.

“This is when they close the casket, isn’t it?” Olivia whispered.

Mom nodded, her lip quivering.

At that exact moment, Jordyn’s parents were behind the closed doors looking at their daughter for the last time ever on earth. Parents didn’t lay their children in the ground—it was meant to be the other way around. It seemed so unnatural and wrong. Final. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Weren’t teenagers invincible?

A few minutes passed before the doors swung open again. The guests were directed back to the seats in the center of the room, in front of the eternally closed coffin.

Penny’s head rested on her ex-husband’s chest. The trembling of her shoulders was visible from even five rows back where Olivia looked on.

The minister droned. His words blended into one long buzz in Olivia’s ears. She just couldn’t get past the reality that Jordyn wouldn’t get a do-over. A stupid decision. One drunken car ride cost her the rest of her life.

The permanence of it resonated in Olivia’s soul. She could have been the one in that casket.

Next time, she probably would be.

O
n the way home from the funeral, Olivia broke the silence with her news. “Mom. I’ve made a decision.” She took a deep breath and then let the words tumble out in one long blurb. “IwanttogotoDiamondEstates.”

Mom’s gaze darted to the rearview mirror and fixed on Olivia. Understanding flickered in her eyes as the words sank in.

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, and he turned to look at Olivia in the backseat, his eyes full of questions.

“When did you decide this?” Mom’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“Pretty much in the hospital. Jodie and I talked about it, but I had to think things through before I made up my mind.” Olivia straightened her back and nodded. “Now I’m sure it’s the right thing. It’s what I want to do.”

“I think it might be the best move, too. I mean, I’ll hate to see you leave—especially now. But the alternative we saw today doesn’t appeal very much either.” Mom’s shoulders dropped a couple of inches as she exhaled. “I’ll be honest; I’m relieved.”

Easier than Olivia had expected it to be, but what would Charles say? “Mom, if it’s okay, I’d like for us to make all of the arrangements before we tell Charles about any of this.”

Mom pursed her lips and shook her head. “I don’t like that at all. It’s really not fair to him to decide something so important without involving him.”

Not fair to him? What about fair to me?
Deep breath. “I’m positive that if we phrase it to Charles like it’s an option, like he has a say in the decision, he
will
say no.”

“Hmm.” Mom drummed her fingernails on the steering wheel and chewed her lip. At least she seemed to be listening for once.

Jake watched the volley of conversation without jumping in.

“But if we stand up to him and tell him how it’s going to be, at least I have a chance.” Olivia waited for an answer. Her whole future depended on this.

Jake cleared his throat. “I have to agree with Liv on this one, Mom. I’m not exactly sure what he’ll say, but I do know Charles—he won’t make this easy.”

“Okay.” Mom didn’t sound convinced. “He’s not going to like it one bit. But we’ll try it your way.”

“Diamond Estates, this is Ben Bradley. Can I help you?”

He answered his own phone? “Mr. Bradley? Ben? This is Olivia Mansfield. I visited about a month ago. I’m not sure if you remem–”

“Olivia! How wonderful to hear from you. Of course I remember you.” Ben’s voice sounded warm and welcoming. Good sign. “In fact, we just prayed for you in our staff prayer time this morning.”

“Thank you.”
I think
.

“What can I do for you?”

“Well, if it’s still possible … I mean, if there’s still room …” The words stuck like a lump in her throat. At the last minute, she’d gotten nervous and wanted Mom to make the phone call for her, but Mom thought it would mean more coming directly from Olivia—proof that it was what she wanted. But how could she come right out and say it?

“Yes, Olivia?” Ben obviously had no intention of making it easy for her.

Olivia drew a shaky breath. “I’m ready.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. How soon can you get here?” Ben’s tone grew more serious as he got down to business.

“Is Monday okay?” That would give her five days to pack and say good-bye to her friends.

“It’s
okay
, if it’s the soonest you can arrange. But these next few days before you arrive are going to be tougher on you than you realize. You should get here as soon as possible—I’d think Friday would be doable.”

“I could probably arrange that. I’m not going to be sad about leaving or anything though—if that’s what you’re worried about.” Scared, maybe, but not sad. “It’s not like I’m going to change my mind.”

“Let’s shoot for Friday—you can call me later today when you’ve made the arrangements. I’d also like to speak with you tomorrow. Be aware, there are evil forces at work that want you to fail. You’ve declared you’re seeking change, but you aren’t equipped yet with the tools to stand up in the face of temptation and peer pressure. This is a very vulnerable time.”

“There won’t be any peer pressure—my best friend is dead.”

How do I pack up my whole life when it all belongs to someone else?
Olivia stowed many of her favorite things—jeans, casual tops, yoga pants, and running shoes—in two large Louis Vuitton suitcases. One matching hanging bag held some dressier items that Mom made her pack. No way she’d need them in a house full of teenage girls, but there was no convincing her mother. She’d use her backpack as a carry-on, but she’d wait until the next day to fill it with books, snacks, her laptop, and her iPod, since her flight wasn’t until noon.

Olivia stuffed three extra-large trash bags with the rest of her designer wardrobe, which she stacked in the corner of her closet and marked for charity. She hoped Norma would find them and take care of the donation before Charles noticed them. He refused to give his things to people who, as he said, couldn’t bother getting a job. But Olivia had no use for them anymore. She had no intention of returning to Charles’s house. Ever. No matter what. In fact, if she could manage it, she’d leave the next day without even saying good-bye to him.

Did he even know she was leaving yet? Mom had said she would tell him last night, but Olivia hadn’t heard any screaming or crashing of lamps against the wall. She’d probably chickened out—which might be for the best since Mom had plans to be out for a few hours tonight. Charles wasn’t home either—Olivia hoped that didn’t change before Mom got home. She only had to get through one more night, and she’d be free of
Chuck
forever. Except in her memories.

With nothing left to pack, Olivia decided to treat it like Christmas Eve—go to bed to hurry morning’s arrival. Plus the sooner she slept, the less time she’d have to worry about things she couldn’t change, like where Charles was and when he’d be home.

As she nuzzled her face deep into her fluffy pillow, it occurred to her that she had no one left to say good-bye to. Jordyn was gone. Bailey and Tara hadn’t spoken to her since before the funeral. Her childhood friends had long since been abandoned when she chose her all-new lifestyle and new friends. Jodie had already come by earlier that day—at least someone cared.

What was she doing? Was she really packing up and moving out the very next morning? Olivia squirmed in her bed, the sheets tangled around her feet. Maybe she should rethink things. This was such a severe reaction to some normal life events, natural consequences, and experimental teen choices. She wasn’t bad enough to need a treatment facility—a group home.

Wait!
Those thoughts were exactly what Ben warned her to watch for. Olivia remembered his exact words during their most recent phone call that morning:
“Thoughts and doubts will assail your mind, trying to convince you that you’re right and everyone else is wrong. They’ll tell you that you don’t need a place like this. Just remember what to watch out for, and be intentional about shutting those voices down before they wreak havoc on your resolve. “

Olivia flopped over onto her back and covered her face with a pillow. It didn’t stop the doubts thundering in her ears, but it made her feel stronger and safer from them while she drifted off to sleep.

CRASH!

Olivia’s eyes flew open, and she scurried off her bed toward the window. The sheet was twisted around one foot, and she fell flat to the floor. She shook her leg and pulled at the sheet until her foot came free then scrambled to the window to see what the noise had been.

Grabbing the windowsill, she peered out to the driveway below.

Charles!
He’d crashed the car into the garage—he seemed to have been aiming for his side of the garage and missed by just a few feet. His Beemer was folded like an accordion, sticking halfway out onto the driveway amid a pile of bricks. He pitched and teetered across the pavement. Dust swirled in clouds around him as he made his way to the front porch, fumbling with his keys and a bottle of almost-gone amber liquid. He glanced up at her window and locked eyes with Olivia before entering the house.

Oh no!
She frantically searched every corner of her room. Where could she hide?

Okay, Olivia … think!

He would come up the front stairs, and judging by his stagger, it would take a bit longer than usual for him to get to her. Would a locked door keep him out? No way. She’d been trying that defense for years. Could she hide? She could try, but she had no guarantee he wouldn’t find her, especially since she knew he had seen her in there. And if he did find her, it would be so much worse.

Her only hope was to climb out the window. If she timed it just right, he’d be stumbling up the stairs while she was scaling the side of the house. But where would she go once she got to the ground? Then again, did it even matter? She could just start running. He’d never catch her—not in the condition he was in, and his car certainly wasn’t drivable.

Olivia pressed her ear against her bedroom door and heard nothing. Charles hadn’t made it to the stairs yet. She ran back to the window, threw it open, and leaned her head out just in time to see him step into the house and slam the front door. Not a moment to lose.

She couldn’t jump; it was way too far.
The ladder!
A long time ago, Mom had stored an emergency one in the bench of Olivia’s window seat in case of fire. Olivia threw the cushions to the floor and dug in the chest like a dog searching for a bone at the beach. Sheets, pillows, and blankets flew over her head as she cast them out of her way until she finally found the rope ladder at the bottom, still wrapped in its original packaging.
Ugh
. Why hadn’t they taken it out of the plastic wrapper yet? Good thing there wasn’t really a fire! Then again, that might be preferable to the monster trudging up the stairs looking for her.

The ladder finally ready, she hooked it to the windowsill and watched it unfurl as it dropped down to barely skim the ground. Olivia slipped her arms into a hoodie and stashed her cigarettes and cell phone in the pocket. Deep breath.

She flung her legs out the window and dangled near the knotted rungs until she could steady herself enough to grab on. She shimmied down, hand under hand, letting her legs hang free. It would have taken too much time to actually climb down.
Cool
. She was stronger than she thought.

When she had just a few feet left, she dropped to the ground and glanced up at her window. What about the ladder? She tried flinging it to unhook it from the house, but that didn’t work. But so what? Let him find it. He’d be mad, but she’d be gone. Safe for the night on the run, and then, after tomorrow, safely tucked away for a while on a snowy mountainside in Colorado.

Olivia ran down the long driveway toward the street. She needed to get past the gate before he found her, or she’d have to run into the woods lining the property and try to climb the fence without being spotted. She could probably outrun him—especially when he was drunk—but she wouldn’t test her luck.