“What do you mean?
“Maybe you should pay Kyle a visit instead, see if you can get him to call off the coming travesty.”
She looked like he’d just stuck her with a pin. “Why would I do that?”
He made a face that suggested she was crazy for even asking. “Because he’s about to ruin his life?”
For a moment, she seemed torn, but ultimately took the party line. “We don’t know that.”
“Maybe you don’t, but I do.”
“Granted, Noelle isn’t the woman Olivia is,” she said, relenting, “but…it’s his choice. We have to respect his wishes.”
Brandon leaned one shoulder against the wall. “Were you aware that Olivia’s been planning the wedding?”
She slid her purse farther up her arm. He wasn’t sure how, at five-two and a hundred and twenty pounds, she managed to haul that thing around. It had to weigh thirty pounds. But she didn’t go anywhere without it. “Nancy mentioned she was helping, yes.”
“I can’t believe they’d expect her to do that.”
“They told me they thought it would be cathartic for her.”
“To plan the wedding of the man she loves—to her sister? Come on! I think it was just cheaper.”
“It wasn’t my place to make that decision, either,” she said, but at least her tone of voice acknowledged that she agreed with him.
“Someone should’ve told them to plan it themselves,” he grumbled.
“I’m sure it’s fine. Olivia’s a very forgiving, wonderful woman. And someday she’ll find an equally wonderful man.”
Brandon pictured Olivia sitting on the side of the road, tears streaming down her face as she gazed up at him. Even completely disheveled, she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. “How wonderful would he need to be?” he asked.
His mother frowned at him. “Excuse me?”
“Never mind.” He’d known all along, ever since he’d held Olivia in his arms at prom, that he couldn’t have her. If he was going to get involved with a woman, she had to be like him, able to enjoy a quick, passionate affair and then move on.
Because, as soon as ski season arrived, he’d be gone again.
*
Noelle was angry during dinner. Olivia could feel her sister’s animosity. She wasn’t sure why Noelle felt she had the right to be upset. She wasn’t the injured party. But every few seconds she’d glance over at Kyle, who was keeping his eyes on his plate, before sending Olivia an accusing glare.
What did she think happened before she came upon them outside?
Olivia didn’t care. Not really. Most of the slights Noelle perceived were imagined. It’d always been that way. Olivia just wanted to get the wedding favors assembled so she could leave. She couldn’t stay here, as planned. The unspoken hurt and anger were too agonizing.
But she wouldn’t go to Brandon’s. Sacramento wasn’t that far. Although it would waste time and gas, she’d drive home and come back in the morning. She did, however, have to tell Brandon what she’d said to Kyle. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. She’d already embarrassed herself once where he was concerned.
After dinner, Kyle went in to watch a true crime show with her father, Noelle disappeared into her bedroom to do whatever she felt she needed to do to prepare for her wedding and Olivia helped her mother wash dishes. Olivia had just started to relax, thanks to the comfort of routine, when Noelle called to her from the bedroom.
“Can you come and tell me how to wear my hair?” she asked, but Olivia wasn’t fooled. Noelle had played nice long enough. She’d obviously decided on a bit of honesty to break through the thin veneer of civility that had carried them this far. Olivia wasn’t opposed to that herself.
“I’ll be right back,” she told her mother.
Nancy’s forehead creased in worry, as if she, too, suspected that Noelle wasn’t interested in opinions on her hair, but she nodded, and Olivia silently promised to do all she could to keep her temper in check. Fighting wouldn’t improve the situation. Noelle and Kyle were going to have a baby. She needed to keep that in mind, especially if she wanted to be part of her niece’s or nephew’s life. The child was innocent and deserved the support of his or her entire family. Olivia just hoped that someday she’d be able to look at her sister’s offspring, at Kyle’s offspring, without cringing.
Maybe it’d be easy. Maybe Noelle would have a little girl who was a much better person than her mother….
“Are you thinking of an updo?” she asked as she walked down the hall.
Noelle was waiting by the door. She closed it as soon as Olivia walked in. “What are you doing?” she whispered harshly.
Olivia studied her flushed face. She was pretty; there was no denying that. They both had wide blue eyes, long blond hair and even features, but Noelle, shorter by two inches, had a curvier figure, which probably made her more attractive. Despite that, Olivia had never been jealous. Due to Noelle’s demanding nature, self-absorption and terrible mood swings, she’d never been particularly popular with the opposite sex. Olivia figured men could sense that her looks wouldn’t be worth the cost of involvement. She’d always thought Kyle understood that, too. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!”
Did Noelle believe Olivia had said something inappropriate to Kyle? That she was trying to stir up trouble?
Olivia started to explain that she was at a complete loss when Noelle made the reason for her anger clear. “You’re seeing Brandon? Really? Kyle’s stepbrother?”
At first, because of Noelle’s emphasis on the family connection, Olivia assumed she was worried about how that might make Kyle feel. Neither one of them had any right to complain, of course, but the threat of looking like a hypocrite had never stopped Noelle. She believed the entire world should bow at her feet—which made Olivia suddenly realize that Noelle wasn’t angry on Kyle’s behalf. She expected Kyle to fight his own battles and cope with his own difficulties. She expected that of everyone, except herself. The only way Noelle could be this upset was if Olivia’s actions affected her personally.
And then Olivia remembered. For most of one summer, Noelle had had the worst crush imaginable on Brandon. She’d done everything possible to gain his attention, including driving past his house numerous times a day, calling him incessantly, showing up wherever she guessed he might be. Olivia had forgotten that, largely because it’d been so long ago—eight years or more. And he hadn’t given her so much as a second look. When August rolled around, he told her flat-out that he wasn’t remotely interested and she’d better quit stalking him or he was going to the police.