The Absence of Olivia(13)

Ruby had come home from school announcing she had a project due the next day, which she hadn’t started. So, even if I had planned a quiet evening at Devon’s house, I didn’t get one. What I got was a rambunctious Jax and a bossy, temperamental Ruby, stressed out about how she was going to make a mummy for her report on ancient Egypt.

After we’d eaten a quick dinner of hot dogs and macaroni and cheese, I sent Jax to watch his favorite cartoon, while Ruby and I molded the shape of a small person out of newspaper.

“Auntie Evie, this isn’t going to work.” Ruby was turning into a tiny pessimist.

“Ruby, a positive attitude is much more attractive than being a whiner.”

“I’m not whining.”

“If I looked up the word whiner in the dictionary, it would have a picture of you right next to the definition.”

Her mouth fell open in offense, which only caused me to laugh.

“Tell you what. I’ll finish building the mummy and get the goop ready for the papier-maché. Why don’t you take your bath and get ready for bed? Once you’re all pajama’d up, we’ll finish this together.”

“Promise you won’t start gooping him up without me?”

“Promise.”

“Okay.” I watched her hop down from the dining room table and run through the living room, then listened to her footsteps go all the way up the stairs. I took just a moment to pop my head into the family room to check on Jax, only to find him passed out on the couch, sleeping the way only children and drunk adults could, oblivious to the world around him. I decided to leave him to sleep, planning to transfer him to his bed after our mummy adventure was over.

The shower ran and I finished building a small person made of crumpled up newspaper, then dug in the cupboards for the flour. I pulled out a large bowl and got to work mixing a little bit of water with the flour, trying to get the right consistency. I heard the front door open and close, figured Devon had come home, and kept working. I heard his footsteps come closer to the kitchen and just when I opened my mouth to utter a greeting, my heart stalled and my pulse paused.

I felt his hand before I saw it, starting at my hip, squeezing gently, and then sliding over my stomach. His front pressed into my back and his lips brushed gently over my temple. It was just one and a half seconds of my life, but it exploded in my mind, grew to infinite proportions and I knew whatever axis my world had been spinning on three seconds before, it was now careening in a new direction. My hands came to grip the counter in front of me, holding me up because my legs were useless.

“Devon,” I whispered, clearly shocked. At my voice, I felt his entire body still; he went positively cold.

“Shit,” he said, stepping away from me as if I’d just burst into flame. “Shit,” he repeated.

I slowly turned, my face clearly showing my confusion. I could feel my eyebrows were very nearly into my hairline. I still wasn’t breathing normally, still hadn’t found the regular beat of my heart.

“I’m so sorry, Evie,” he said, running a hand down his face. “I came home and saw you there, where Liv used to always be… and your blonde hair…”

He’d seen me and thought I was her. He’d forgotten his wife had died and he’d wrapped his arm around me like I was her. He held me for just a moment like he held the woman he loved. I was cracking on the outside. He could see it. He watched as I started to fall apart, but whatever he could see on the outside was only a small fraction of the destruction going on within me.

A part of me had wondered what his hands felt like. For years. Ever since the day we’d met. Now I knew. Now I knew they were incredible.

“I have to go,” I said quickly, turning and reaching for my purse on the table. “It’s two parts flour to three parts water.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“The papier-maché for Ruby’s mummy. Two parts flour to three parts water. Just dip the newspaper strips in the goop and cover the mummy. I have to go.” I fled the kitchen like a murderer escaping from the scene of a crime. I absolutely could not think about anything besides Devon’s hand covering my womb.

I’d made it half way down the front porch steps when I heard his voice call out my name.

“Evelyn, wait!”

My feet stopped moving like the traitors they were. I stopped, but I did not turn around, could not see his face as he processed that he’d touched the wrong woman. The heat coming from his body alerted me that he was just inches away, this time on purpose.

“Evie,” he whispered. I waited a beat, giving him a second to get his thoughts together, but when no more words came from him, I spoke.

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice sounding so much stronger than I actually was. Inside I was crumbling.

“No, it’s not. Please, don’t leave like this.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal.”

“It was a mistake. An accident.” It was true, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

“The first time I kiss you shouldn’t be a mistake.” His voice was so quiet, the whisper barely even audible, but I heard it and I tucked it deep inside of me, hoping it was buried deep enough that it would never surface again.

I made my feet press forward, made each foot step in front of the other until I made it to my car. Then I got in and I drove away.