Page 18 of Havoc for the Holidays

Ollie

My mind was a wreck for the entire week following our steamy encounter in my kitchen. An absolute and utter wreck. It didn't help my situation one bit that the entire town was now gossiping about my supposedly “flourishing” love life with the new dance teacher. Small towns and gossip went hand in hand, but I hadn't been the subject of this much attention since I was back in high school and everyone was whispering not so subtly about the town’s first “unfortunate” teen pregnancy.

By the end of the week, I was simply going through the motions and trying to avoid any unnecessary outings to the best of my ability as I battled with my conflicted feelings and mortification. As soon as Ez had called attention to the fact that I had willingly used my cooking staple as a lubricant for our sexual antics, the spiral had started and didn't show signs of stopping. I felt like a horrible person, a horrible father, just plain horrible.

I wanted to avoid the shame as well as the conflict, so I inevitably ended up avoiding everything. When Ez invited Becs and I to help decorate the cottages, I made up some stupid excuse about studying for exams that were already over and spent the day watching Christmas movies. I blamed them for my tears and felt even worse about myself for the lie when Becs shrugged off my excuse and went back to watching the films without a care in the world.

Even my parents had noticed the shift in my mood, but they could only ask if I was alright so many times before giving up when I would make light of their concerns. It was a game we had played so many times in the past, they were accustomed to my reluctance to share.

When my phone rang yet again with an incoming call from my mother, I knew I had to fess up. If I didn't, there was a high chance she would change their flights and arrive at my door before I was ready to deal with it all face to face. I unearthed myself from the mount of blankets and escaped to my bedroom before answering the call behind closed doors.

“Hi, mom.”

“Oliver, I'm very concerned. Mary said you haven't been out in days! Are you sure you aren't ill?”

“No, mom.” I flopped onto my mattress and flung an arm over my eyes. “I'm just lost in my head.”

“Is it about that man? Theresa told me you were seeing someone. I expected to hear it from you, but I won't be too hurt. You've always been so quiet about these things.”

“God, mom. It was a few dates. Nothing serious.” Even as I said the words, it felt all wrong. The lie sat heavy on my tongue as tears sprung to my eyes again. Frankly, my head was a mess and I didn't know what to think. I wanted him in ways that overwhelmed me, but my mind couldn't reconcile being a father and a partner at the same time. I'd never known anything more than being a parent and the concept of trying to add more to that left me panicking.

“Ollie, sweetie. You're crying.”

“Y-yeah.” I hiccupped on the word and ran my sleeve under my nose. There was no use hiding it.

“Did something happen?” Her voice grew softer and more concerned. I heard a door close in the background and realized she must have gone to a more private location for this talk we were apparently going to have despite my desire to hide from it.

“It's me. I don't know… I don't know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Utterly perplexed, she made a tiny scoffing sound.

“Date? Find more time? Juggle better? All of it. Half the time, I'm freaking out about whether or not I'm being the best parent I can be. I don't think I can add even more.” I rolled to my side and tugged the pillow against my chest.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She laughed and tutted her tongue. “My little worrier. The fact that you're panicking over being a good father means you are one, my love.”

“Hardly. I let her eat cookies for breakfast this morning. I'm actually a terrible father. Oh God.”

“As if we didn't do the same with you. Ollie, parenthood isn't about perfection, it's about intention. Do the best you can with what you have to give and I promise you, it's enough.” She paused until I made a noncommittal sound to indicate I'd heardher. “She'll look back on this in ten years as a good memory. Because you always show up for her. Even when it's hard, you show up and you put in the effort.”

“Yes but… what if it isn't enough? What if trying to date takes away—”

“Oliver… if you and Marissa had stayed together to raise her together, would you consider yourself a bad parent for prioritizing quality time with your partner?”

I winced and groaned. “Bad analogy, mom. It's not the same—”

“Why? Because he isn't her parent? Baby, you aren't being a bad parent for trying to lead a full and fulfilling life. Part of that for some people is having a life partner. Your father and I spent time together without you because it's natural for parents to need something to identify with outside of being a parent. You aren't only a parent, my love. You need to remember that, before you find yourself completely burnt out on all of it.”

“Maybe,” I mumbled, side eyeing the Post-It note I'd saved. My mother’s words gave me a little spark of hope, but the fact that I'd kept Ez at arm’s length for over a week quickly doused it. “It doesn't matter now.”

“Oliver Branson, do I need to get on a plane tonight and drag you out of that apartment myself?”

Despite my morose mood, I laughed. “No, mom. I'll… figure it out.”

“Good. You're a great father and an absolute ray of sunshine when you let the world in. Don't hide from it. You deserve to experience all of life. Now get out of that bed and go wash your face.”

“God, I love you.” I rolled back onto my back with a sigh. “I'm sorry.”

“Shh!” She tutted her tongue again. “I swear, you’ll have me completely grey before my sixtieth. Up. Now. No more sorries. And I love you too.”

---