But I still fucked up.
With every minute that passes this morning, I can feel her growing more remote. She didn't speak on the car ride and she barely spoke on the bus.
I see her pacing before the meet, the way she always does, but today she wants nothing from me. She's the Olivia I first met, closely guarding her secrets, struggling beneath an unbearable weight, and certain that no one can help her carry it.
I have a bad feeling about today. She didn't eat, she looks exhausted, and there's just something missing … Possibly something I took away.
When the race starts, she goes out like a cannonball at a dead sprint. It's speed you pull out at the end of the race, not at the beginning.
"What the hell is she doing?" groans Peter.
I'm wondering the same thing. It could be strategy, but Olivia's strategy is normally the opposite, reining herself in until she knows the end is near. She typically stays neck-and-neck with the top two girls, lets them set the pace, and then pulls from that miraculous well of strength she always seems to have when no one else does. She's not doing that today, and I already know exactly how this will unfold: when the top runners catch up with her, and they will because she can't maintain her current pace, she'll panic, begin the mental self-flagellation she's so prone to, and then she will give up.
By the third mile, it all begins to unfold as I predicted and I watch, absolutely helpless to stop it. "Damn it," says Peter. "She just lost us regionals."
"She didn't lose it," I reply testily. "The team lost it. She's the only one who got us close to it in the first place."
She comes in 4th, still the first out of the team but several places too low to do us any good. When she comes through, I clap a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Olivia. You did your best."
She nods but there is defeat etched into the curve of her mouth and shoulders as she walks away. Nicole and Erin both throw an arm around her shoulder as we walk to the bus, but Olivia doesn't react. It's not even as if she's sad, it's as if she's empty. She never wanted to care about the team, and I think right now she wishes that were still true.
I say goodbye to her once we reach campus. School gets out Tuesday for break, and it all feels so incomplete. It seems like we should have more time.
She steps off the bus and I watch her until she fades from view, wishing there were anything I could have said to make her stay.
The farm is a pretty depressing place to be for the next few days. It reminds me of the time after my father died, how we'd sit down for dinner and the sight of his empty chair seemed to diminish us all a little. My mother doesn't say it, but I suspect she blames me. I see it in her eyes, in the way her mouth tightens a little every time I say Olivia's name. The only person alive who appears happy about the whole thing is Jessica.
"No offense," she says as we drive to dinner on Tuesday night, "but it'll be nice to have a little family time without her there."
Family time? God, there are so many responses that come to mind. I just barely keep them to myself.
"And it's time she found a family of her own," she continues. "She can't be leaning on you guys as her only source of support."
"How exactly is she supposed to find a family, Jess?" I ask, my voice precise and angry. "Post an ad on Craigslist?"
///
"Will," she says, "don't get snippy with me. You know what I mean."
"No, actually I have no fucking idea what you mean."
"You always defend her," she accuses. "Ever since she got here, you've done nothing but make excuses for her, and she's totally taking advantage."
Jessica has a big family, and parents who dote on her. Her car and the fancy apartment she couldn't possibly afford on her salary are all benefits of having parents who can't deny her anything. It makes every word out of her mouth that much more appalling. "Taking advantage of what exactly, Jessica? My family's yacht and mansion?"
"Will," she says with a tremulous note in her voice, "this is a really hard week for me, okay? Please stop making it worse."
"Hard in what way?" I growl, irritated before I even know what she's going to say.
"This is the week we lost my grandfather," she says, pressing her index finger to the corner of her eye as if to stem the tears. "I miss my family and I'm thinking about my grandfather and now you're mad at me and it's hard, okay?"
We are almost into town and I should let this go, just make it through the evening, but I can't.
"When?"
"When what?" she sniffles.
"When did your grandfather die?"
"A few years ago."
"How many, Jess?"
"I don't know. High school."
"What year of high school?"
"I don't know!" she exclaims in exasperation. "I was maybe a sophomore. How could it possibly matter?"
"You expect me to feel sorry for you because your grandfather died at least nine years ago, but you think Olivia should find her own family?"
"It's hard for me to be away from them over the holidays and it's like you don't even care." This is classic Jessica. Lose the point and just throw out a new accusation. "I stayed here for you, remember?"
"I told you to go visit them," I groan. Her parents moved to Denver over the summer, but she insisted on staying here for the holiday, even after I all but begged her to go.
"It's okay," she says tearfully. "You'll come to Denver with me at Christmas and it'll all even out."
That's when I turn the car around.
I wanted to believe that my father knew better. I tried to see the best in her, and I was wrong. We both were.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"I'm taking you home."
"You don't need to do that." She smiles, wiping away another invisible tear and then putting most of her faux-sadness aside. "I'm okay, just a little sad about not seeing my family. Let's go out. I'll be fine."
I take a deep breath, aiming for neutrality rather than scorn. "I'm sorry, Jess, but this isn't going to work out."
"Will, it's fine. I just needed a little cry-"
"No, I'm not talking about tonight. I'm talking about us. We are not going to work out."
Even with my eyes on the road, I can feel the way she recoils.
"You're breaking up with me?" she gasps.
"This just isn't working anymore, Jessica. I'm sure if you think about it, you'll see that too."
"But we've been together for a whole year! We aren't even having problems!"
"We've been having plenty of problems," I reply. "We just haven't discussed them."
"Is this about sex? Because you're the one who keeps turning me down. I tried talking to you about it-"
"It's not about sex."
"Then what? You can't just break up with me and not even have a reason!" she cries, almost unintelligible at this point. "Everyone thought you were about to propose and you want to take a break instead?"
"I was never planning to propose. I must have told you a thousand times I didn't want to settle down. And I don't want to take a break," I correct her. "I want to break up."
I pull up in front of her apartment complex. "Then why?" she demands. "I'm not getting out of this car until you've given me a reason."
"We have nothing in common, Jessica," I say gently. "If you think about it, you'll know I'm right. You don't run, you don't climb, you don't even like sports. And I don't do the things you do." In truth, I'm not sure what exactly she does away from me aside from work and shop.
///
"Right," she hisses. "I don't like those things, but your precious Olivia does, doesn't she?"
"She has nothing to do with it."
"She has everything to do with it!" Jessica screams. "Everything! We were fine until she showed up and it's been a steady downhill ever since! I knew you were cheating when you stopped sleeping with me."
"I've never slept with Olivia and I think you know that."
"Bullshit, Will! You think I'm stupid? You think I really believe you and that girl are spending all this time together and sleeping under the same roof, but you've never hooked up with her?"
I meet her eye. "Yes, I expect you to believe it because it's the truth."
"You're going to get caught!" she cries. "You're going to get caught and lose your job and then your mom will lose the farm. Is that what you want?"
"I'm not sleeping with her!" I shout. "For the last time, there is nothing going on. Now please get out of my car."