Page 60 of The Other Half

We pack up the groceries into the car and quickly settle into our seats, trying to escape the bitter cold as fast as we can. It’s only fifteen degrees here today, it doesn’t usually get that cold where we live, but Gran lives at a higher elevation.

My phone buzzes again.

Oliver: I still love you.

My heart palpitates and my eyes nearly bug out of my head in disbelief. I re-read the message three times because I know it can’t really say that.

“Who are you texting?” Mom asks.

I clear my throat, my brain still clouded and scattered. “No one,” I say, shaking my head.

“Oliver?” How did she know? I guess maybe my facial expression and the red coloration spreading all over my face and neck was a hint.

“Uh, yeah,” I say. “How’d you know?”

She shrugs. “I just had a feeling.” She turns to face me, we’re still sitting in the parking lot waiting for the car to warm up. “I’d like to meet him.”

“Really?” My brows knit together in confusion. “Since when? I didn’t think you liked him…”

She purses her lips together, like she always does when she’s deep in thought. “I don’t know him well enough to dislike him. I don’t like that you snuck out without telling me, but I don’t think I can judge his character based solely on that.”

“But you basically told me you didn’t want me to be with someone like him.”

She nods. “And I shouldn’t have. I was wrong for judging him so harshly before getting to know him.” She puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking space.

I raise my eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. Maybe my mom has just been going along with whatever my dad wants, too, without considering her own opinions.

Chapter 47

Oliver

I pop my eyes open, awakened by loud squealing and laughing courtesy of my little brother. It takes me a moment to remember it’s Christmas morning. I sigh and throw the covers off of me, and I slowly force myself to get out of bed. These past few days have been torturous, but finally Oakley texted me last night letting me know that she’s safe at her grandmother’s house. I can’t put into words how relieved I was to hear that.

After brushing my teeth I make my way into the living room, prepared for another dismal encounter with my family.

“Ol!” Liam chirps excitedly. He runs up to me and squeezes my legs. “Look what Santa brought!” He points to a pile of at least 15 Matchbox cars along with a track for them. My eyes nearly pop out of my head. I know that thing must have cost a fortune, it’s one of the big ones that lights up and makes noises. Nate is laying on the floor, reading the instructions for how to put it together.

“Wow, bud.” I say with genuine surprise. Nate looks up at me with a smirk like he’s in on something I’m not.

“Merry Christmas, son,” Mom says, wrapping her arm around my neck in a warm hug. “I made some cinnamon rolls if you want one.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I smile. I must be dreaming, still fast asleep in bed. That’s the only explanation. But I’ll take it, anything to pretend my family is happy for a little while.

I walk into the kitchen behind her, making sure that Liam is still thoroughly distracted by his gifts. “Who bought him that stuff?” I whisper.

Mom’s face is plastered with the biggest smile I’ve seen her wear in a long time. It warms my heart to see her happy, for so long she’s been so depressed I almost forgot what her smile looked like. “I don’t know. Someone sent us $500 in the mail, but it was anonymous.” She hands me a Christmas card with an illustration of stars on the front that says ‘Merry and Bright’ in curly, cursive letters.

I open it and read the brief message. For the McLeod family, hope this helps a little bit, merry Christmas. I recognize the messy, girly handwriting immediately. There’s no way it isn’t hers.

“It was Oakley.” I say, mostly to myself.

Mom twists her head around to look at me again, her brows knitted together in confusion. “Who?”

“My g–my ex.”

Her face suddenly falls into an expression of pure guilt. She chewed me out relentlessly for getting together with Oakley, telling me I was an idiot for trusting someone like her.

“Are you sure?” she asks quietly.

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