demanded the lion’s share of attention when reconnecting with her daughter.
“The baby’s good, Dad. Thanks for asking.” Olive noticed that the too-helpful employee appeared to be eavesdropping, and she made a break for the exit, heading to a seating section nearby in the mall. The baby bedding wasn’t going anywhere, and besides, she had no better idea of what she wanted than when she had started almost an hour ago. “Dad, do you mind if I... speak to Mom a minute?”
“You heard her! Shoo!” Jill laughed as Bill’s grumble receded into the background. “What is it, Olive?” her mother asked her once they were evidently alone. “Is something wrong? It’s not the baby, is it?”
“It’s not the baby, Mom.” There were tears in her eyes that she hadn’t invited, but just hearing her mother’s voice had opened the floodgates. “It’s Levon.”
“Oh, honey.” Her mother was almost able to wrap her in her arms with her voice alone. “I thought things were going well with Levon.”
“They were,” Olive choked. “Until my big, stupid head got in the way!”
“There is nothing big nor stupid about your head,” Jill soothed from half a world away.
“Well, maybe that’s the problem!” Olive burst out. “Mom, you know my history with men! I always wind up driving them away in the end! Because I just... open my mouth, or... try way too hard to insert logic and be helpful.” Olive shook her head, and her curls bounced wildly. The baby chose that moment to deliver a series of quick kicks, though Olive couldn’t tell if it was because all three generations of Owen girls were in agreement here or not. Olive explained everything to Jill, including their big fight and Olive’s decision to move out.
“Olive, listen to me very carefully,” her mother said. Olive pressed the phone to her ear and held her breath. Even though logic told her Jill couldn’t sort everything out for her in a single phone call, a part of her couldn’t help hoping for that outcome all the same. “I’ve told you your whole life how smart you are. What I never told you is that you didn’t just inherit your mother’s big brain, girlfriend.”
“What do you mean?” Olive was puzzled.
“You’ve got gorgeous looks in addition to your brain!” her mother exclaimed. Olive swore she could hear a grunt of agreement from her father in the background; evidently, he hadn’t walked far enough away. “You’re a knockout, and I should have told it to you sooner! I was so concerned with raising you up to be a young woman who didn’t emphasize looks that I’m afraid you went in the completely opposite direction and totally failed to realize how beautiful you are!” Jill Owen paused as if to come up for air, but carried on before the speechless Olive could think of anything to interject. “Honey, what you’ve struggled with your whole life isn’t your brain chasing men away. Everything about you is striking.”
Olive colored and looked around, hoping no other shoppers were overhearing this pep talk right now.
“And from what you said, it sounds to me like Levon is a man who won’t be intimidated. He may not have handled everything perfectly, but it sounds like he valued and appreciated you every step of the way, even if he didn’t always know how to show it. You need someone to call you on your shit, or, in your case—get you out of your head. You’ve got to live life, Olive; not spend all your time analyzing it.”
“You’re right,” Olive expelled a ragged breath. “But Mom, what if I already screwed it up?”
“According to my calculations, that’s impossible!” her father hollered in the background. “Your stars are in alignment, kiddo!”
Olive’s face practically caught fire. “Mom, am I on speaker? And Dad—you’re so not helping!”
After her parents had finished embarrassing her, Olive hung up the call. She headed over to the mall pretzel stand and deliberated.
Maybe she couldn’t win Levon back. She had to accept that as a possible outcome. Maybe, despite her parents’ cheerleading, she had already fatally messed it all up on that front.
But at least now she knew what bedding she wanted for the baby.
It took all of Levon’s courage, as a father and an ex-SEAL, to knock on Olive’s door that same evening.
As the seconds passed, he wondered if she would answer. He could tell by her car, and the lights on in the upstairs windows, that she was home. The raid was done. He’d texted Olive himself