Page 97 of Time To Live Again

“Did you know for sure who Leo’s family was before you came here?” I ask.

She wrings her hands over and over. “I put two and two together, yes. Once he talked about this hotel and his mom…Marla.”

“For the record,” Andy interrupts. “After she shared this tea with me, I tried to convince her not to come here. But Olive, you know how stubborn she is. I had to come along to soften the blow. I sent you a message to warn you, but obviously, you didn’t get it.”

I see red. How dare she?

“Okay, Mom, now I need to talk to you alone.” She opens her mouth to say something, but stops herself. Maybe I look as angry as I feel. She nods.

Andy gets up to follow, and I stop him. “No. Let me be.”

“Nope. I’m going with you to make sure you don’t kill her. I won’t say a word while you duke it out. And I deserve to hear this too.”

“Fine,” I huff.

“Olive, do you want me to go with you too?” Leo asks. It’d be easy to say yes, but I need to confront Mom by myself. Andy can be her bodyguard.

Before I can respond, Marla answers for me. “Let her go, Leo. We need to talk too.”

He looks at me again, his eyes wide with concern. I nod and leave the room, with Mom and Andy following close behind. Instead of going back to the hotel, we don our shoes and jackets, and I lead them out the kitchen door to the garden.

The partly cloudy sky allows some sunrays to beam through, spreading much welcomed warmth through the chilly air. I button my coat and turn around to find Mom roaming around, inspecting little details.

“I haven’t been here in over thirty-five years. It’s amazing how much has changed, yet looks the same. It was a family tradition to come to Orcas Island and stay at the Madrona Inn during summer vacations, even when your grandparents were kids. Our family and the Gables were good friends. Gable is Marla’s maiden name, if you don’t already know.” I nod.

“This was my favorite place to be. Marla and I were the best of friends. A friendship like that is rare.” She hangs her head low and drags her feet over the dewy grass.

I have so much to say, I don’t know where to begin. But I start anyway.

“Why did you keep it a secret? I mean, the entire family had to have known since you were all friends. Uncle Bruce? Grandma and Grandpa? Make me understand, Mom.” Even Leo’s uncle Mason should know who I am.

“No matter how much I loved—love—your dad, the guilt ate me alive. Her parents fought with mine, and it caused total chaos because of how devastated Marla was. Our love caused a major rift between the families. Beyond repair. Our family never returned to the island.”

“You loved Dad that much to risk everything?”

“Yes,” she answers without hesitation. “We couldn’t stand the thought of being apart. So I had to be selfish, and I knew I’d be losing my best friend, but there was no question in my mind. He was my forever. I…I’d do it again, Olive. I’d choose him every time.”

A look of nostalgia transforms her face, and I can only imagine it’s because she’s thinking of Dad. It was crazy, how in love they were. Andy and my friends’ parents were all getting divorced when we were teenagers, but ours always acted like they were still on their honeymoon.

“Every day that passes since he died feels like the first day. Some days, it’s like I can’t even get up—I lie in bed and stare at the wall while I hug one of his business shirts that I kept. Except they don’t smell like him anymore.” Her voice is tiny.

We cleaned out his closet six months ago. She must have kept some stuff without me knowing. A wave of sadness for her crushes my chest.

“Believe it or not, I still have the last voice message he ever sent me. He asked me to buy his peanut butter cup ice cream when we were shopping. Before he ended the message, he said he loved me more and more each day. I listen to it every morning while I have my first cup of coffee. I’m incredibly fortunate to have spent so many years married to the one person truly made for me.” She blinks twice, and tears slide down her face. “God, Olive. The vision of him lying dead in the backyard never goes away. I’m so glad you didn’t experience that with me.”

Me too.No matter how angry I am, she’s my mom. I can’t watch her grieve like this. I didn’t know—she hides it pretty well.

I wrap her in my arms. “It’s okay, Mom. Everyone knows how you two loved each other. He was taken from us too soon and without warning. That makes it harder to let him go. And it wasn’t your fault you weren’t there.”

“I blame myself every day,” she whimpers.

Something occurs to me. I drop my embrace and put some space between us.

“So, when I quit my job in LA and moved back home, I was a wreck. Dad told me life was about facing tough choices where I might have to prioritize myself sometimes, where I might hurt innocent people in protecting myself.”

Mom looks at me, and I know. “He said that because of what happened with Marla, didn’t he?”

She nods. “You made a difficult decision to save yourself. Some people would say it was selfish. I don’t think it was, but that doesn’t keep the guilt away. You have to learn to live with it. Dad and I both knew about that. But you, confronting your past in LA? It encouraged me to follow you here today. To confrontmypast. It felt like my one chance for redemption.”

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