Forbidden

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

 

                BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“I hate you, alarm clock!” Olivia shouted before unplugging the obnoxious contraption.

                Just five more minutes. I just need five more minutes, she thought to herself before pulling the down comforter over her head. Just as she did, her phone started ringing. She angrily pushed the covers off of her and retrieved it off of the nightstand. It was Marshall.

“Hey Daddy. What are ya’ll doin’ up so early?”

“We’re comin’ home today. Actually, we’ll be landing in the next couple of hours.”

“I thought you weren’t comin’ back until Thursday?” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Yeah, we uh, we finished earlier than expected. Do you mind missin’ school today, though? I hate to ask again but your Momma and I—we have somethin’ we need to talk to you about.”

                Olivia’s mind flashed to Nick and she frowned. The thought was quickly overshadowed by Marshall’s somber tone.

“Oh. What’s the matter? Ya’ll okay?”

“We’ll talk later. Just be at the airport by nine and we’ll talk when we get back home.”

“Okay . . . you’ve got me worried now,” she managed a nervous chuckle.

“We’re about to board. I’ll see you soon. Love you, baby.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

                Olivia sat up in her bed and her mind automatically went to divorce. Why would they go on vacation and suddenly leave early and want to get a divorce, though? It didn’t add up but it was all Olivia had. She turned her phone back on and texted Kenley to let her know she wouldn’t be able to pick her up, and then she texted Nick.

I won’t be in today  :( Momma and Daddy are coming home early, gotta get them from the airport. Call me when you leave. I MISS YOU ALREADY!

                She climbed out of bed and took a shower before making her way back to her room. She slid on a pair of denim jeans and a plain green t-shirt . She did her makeup and her hair and headed downstairs to make her coffee.

                Why would they get divorced? What if it’s not a divorce?

                By the time Olivia got around the morning rush traffic, it was nine-thirty and Olivia had tried to call both of her parents’ phones but they just went straight to voicemail. She pulled up into the shuttle lane where she saw Marshall and Liz.

“What the hell?” Olivia said to herself.

                Marshall was sitting in a wheelchair and Liz was standing behind him with the luggage parked next to her. Olivia jumped out of the car and ran towards her father.

“Daddy what’s wrong?” she asked as she looked around checking for a cast or something to indicate a broken bone.

“I said we’d talk when we got home, darlin’,” he grinned.

                Olivia looked up at her mother. Her eyes were puffy and red as if she’d just been crying and when Liz’s eyes met with Olivia, she looked away. Olivia grabbed the luggage and pulled the latch on the back door open and placed everything inside. Without even realizing it, Olivia shoved Liz’s hand off the wheelchair and began pushing her father towards the car.

                Olivia watched as Marshall slowly stood from his sitting position and she tried grabbing his arm to keep him from falling but he pushed her away.

“I can do it, baby.”

                He managed to climb into the passenger seat and shut the door, leaving Olivia and Liz standing and watching him.

“What’s goin’ on Momma?” Olivia asked sternly.

“You’re father wants to talk about it at home, Olivia,” she said before opening the back door and taking a seat.

                Olivia watched as her mother put her hand on Marshall’s shoulder and he grabbed it, resting his head against the seat. Liz pushed a stray fallen tear off of her face and rolled down the window.

“Come on, let’s get home,” Liz said.

                The drive back home was completely silent and it was killing Olivia. She drove too fast on the freeway and ran a couple of red lights as both of her parents yelled for her to pay attention. Olivia felt panicked. If something happened to Marshall, how would she deal with it? How could she live without her father? She quickly shook the thought from her head. Nothin’s wrong. He’s probably just tired from the trip.

                When they pulled into the driveway, Liz stepped out and opened Marshall’s door as she offered for him to take her hand, which he did.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you inside.”

                Olivia left the luggage in the car and walked behind her parents before they were finally sitting in the living room.

“I’ve waited long enough. What’s going on?” she demanded with tears in her eyes.

                Liz spoke first.

“Olivia. Your father and I, we didn’t go to Florida.”

“Where’d you go, then?” she asked slowly, suddenly afraid of the answer.

“We were in Houston. Your father had an appointment with a top-of-the-line doctor at a research hospital out there.”

“Research hospital? What kind of research hospital?” Her eyes flashed to her father’s tired face.

“Sit down, baby. There’s somethin’ we need to talk about.”

                Olivia did as he father said, taking a seat directly next to his and squeezed his hand.

“What kind of research hospital, Daddy?”

                He took a long, ragged breath before he spoke.

“A cancer research hospital.”

                Olivia watched as her mother covered her mouth with her hand as she walked out of the room.

“Cancer?” she whispered, feeling the air being sucked from her lungs.

                He squeezed her hand.

“Honey, we didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you to worry. But it seems now that we have somethin’ to worry about.”

“Like what? Worry about what?”

“Six months ago I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. We were optimistic at first but . . . “

“But what?”

“Darlin’,” he tried to force a smile, “it’s at stage four. No amount of chemo or treatment can stop it now. All of those trips we took, they were for treatment, not vacation. But I’ve made the choice to stop treatment. It just wears me out and it makes me feel even worse than I already do. So, I’m resigning from my position at the office and I’ll still take on consultations from home for as long as I can.”

                Olivia could feel the hard lump in her throat and she tried to speak over it and through the tears that were streaming down her face.

“How long do you think you can do it?”

“Baby,” he said, lowering his gaze as if he were ashamed, “the doctors gave me four months.”