Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(47)
One of Olivia’s shoulders rose and fell, too jerky to be casual. “Sometimes. I don’t . . . It’s not like I’m keeping track. It’s enough to be a nuisance, but not enough to be a problem.”
A nuisance was a problem. Anything that put a frown that severe on Olivia’s face was a problem, and she shouldn’t have to put up with it.
“What’s he even calling you about at”—Margot dug inside her pocket for her own phone—“eleven at night, anyway?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “He was looking for the spare garage door opener.”
“And he called you?”
A can of cat food teetered, stacked precariously atop the rest. Margot snatched it just as it fell, holding on to it for Olivia.
Olivia nibbled on her lip and nodded. “It’s—it’s always stupid little things, Mar. I just shrug it off. It’s not worth getting up in arms about. Trust me.”
“Why haven’t you told him to fuck off?” Or, better yet . . . “Why do you even take his calls? Just block his number.”
“I asked him to stop.”
“You asked him.” Margot’s tongue bulged against the side of her cheek.
Olivia blew the hair out of her face with a weary sigh. “It’s not that simple.”
Margot bit her tongue against the urge to blurt out that it sure sounded simple to her. Cut-and-dried. Fuck off. Two little words, but . . . she wasn’t in Olivia’s shoes. “Help me understand what makes it complicated, then.”
Olivia stared at her for a second, eyes flitting over Margot’s face as if weighing the sincerity of Margot’s request. After a moment, her gaze dropped to ground between them, her voice quiet but steady. “It’s not like I want to take his calls, but I can’t just block his number.” Her jaw ticked, a muscle beneath her ear jumping. “I’ve asked him not to call me unless it’s about something serious.”
Margot was trying to understand, but it didn’t make sense. Olivia and Brad had been divorced for a year, and from the sound of it, they didn’t share close mutual friends. They didn’t have pets or kids to shuffle from one house to another. And they hadn’t exactly ended on the best of terms, what with Brad being a cheating ass. The longer she puzzled through this in her head, the less it made sense and the more frustrated she got on Olivia’s behalf, her blood pressure rising. “Okay. What would possibly be serious enough for Brad to need to contact you?”
Olivia shrugged, sending another can tumbling. It rolled across the tile floor all the way to the end of the aisle, stopping against the wheel of the cart belonging to the woman with all the mayo. The woman nudged the can back toward them with a kick. It stalled out midway down the aisle, and Margot left it there. She’d pick it up later.
“I told you about my dad. About his heart attack last year,” Olivia said, staring down the aisle at the can. “He’s doing okay, but . . . I know he doesn’t like me to worry. But it’s not like I worry for no reason. Dad’s not always the most forthcoming. He drove himself to the hospital when it happened. He only let the nurse call me when he found out he was going to be admitted overnight.” Her voice cracked and she sniffed hard. “When he tells me he’s fine, I can’t help but worry that his definition of fine and mine aren’t the same.” Olivia gave another one of those bone-weary-sounding sighs that made Margot want to bundle her up and take her back home. It had only been a couple weeks, but already Margot’s brain had made the transition to thinking of the apartment as theirs and not just hers. “So I asked Brad to let me know if he hears anything. Dad’s still friendly with Brad’s parents. He and Dad run into each other sometimes. They go to the same football watch parties. It’s a small town. People hear things I don’t from fifty miles away.”
“Do they ever,” Margot muttered under her breath. “My dad’s the resident busybody, apparently, remember?”
Olivia cracked a smile, the first in too long.
Margot inhaled deeply and nodded slowly. “Okay. So you asked Brad to keep you posted if something happens to your dad.” She couldn’t say she agreed with that plan, but she could understand where Olivia was coming from. “But he calls you out of the blue. About garage door openers?”
“Stupid things,” Olivia agreed, head bobbing. “Like I said, I’ve asked him to stop, but it’s not worth getting upset over. I answer, I try to keep it brief. You heard. Then I let him go.” Olivia’s lips flattened. “It’s irritating, but I can’t block him. What if he calls and it’s actually something important?”
A throat cleared. The woman wearing the fur coat with the cart full of mayo stood, brows raised impatiently as she stared at the freezer behind them. “You’re blocking the frozen yogurt.”
“Shoot, sorry.” Olivia offered a smile and stepped out of the way. Rather than merely shuffling to the side, she nodded toward the front of the store. Margot followed after her, swiping the can off the floor on the way to the checkout.
“I’ll get it.” Margot waved Olivia off, paying for the cat food in addition to the ice cream, candy, and ingredients for cookies.
Olivia tucked her wallet away with a smile. “Thanks.”
It wasn’t until they were back out on the street that Margot circled back around, not ready to drop the subject. “It sounds to me like you’ve requested a boundary and Brad continues to ignore it. That’s not okay, Liv. I know you care about your dad, I . . .” Margot swallowed, the next words out of her mouth almost I love that about you.