Saving Olivia

Juice Under The Couch

"Don't forget your scarf." She said as she lifted it from her end stand in the living room. She smiled a bit as she held it out to Mason.

"See? You do care about me." Mason teased as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. "You don't want me to catch cold."

"I never said that." The girl protested even as she stared guiltily at the floor. "I just don't want your junk cluttering my apartment." She muttered.

Mason chuckled as he glanced around the living room again. No chance of this room being cluttered, he thought to himself. He was wise enough to keep that comment unspoken. Instead, he turned his eyes back to the woman child before him. She still kept her eyes trained on the floor, her cheeks looked warm with a rosy blush. "Are you going to tell me your name, darlin'?"

"It doesn't matter." She said finally glancing up to look at Mason. "It's not likely we'll ever meet again."

Mason laughed. "Honey, I'm coming to your place for dinner tomorrow night whether you tell me your name or not."

The girl's head flew up even as she took several steps forward. "You can't!" She gasped.

"Sure I can. I know where you live."

"Lydia is coming tomorrow night. I was supposed to bake a cake for her tonight." She groaned as she ran her fingers roughly through her hair. Mason had the feeling she did that a lot. A nervous gesture perhaps?

"Wonderful! That's your sister?"

"No."

Mason raised a brow when she didn't bother with an explanation. "Well? Who is she then? Your probation officer?" Mason was not expecting the flash of anger that lit her eyes making them appear as blue fire.

"Get out." She growled as she lunged forward pushing with all her might to get him through the door.

"Hey! Hey, calm down, kitten." Mason said standing his ground.

"Don't call me kitten!"

Mason smirked as he took a quick step back causing the girl to stumble and fall. She glared up at him from her position on the floor. "Sorry, sugar. Until you give me your name I'll just keep calling you kitten." Chuckling to himself, he twisted the door handle and let himself out. "Good night, kitten. Sleep tight." His laughter followed him down the hall.

The girl remained on the floor glaring at the door in frustration, admiration, and confusion. Did any of that really happen? He was so annoying. She shook her head. Maybe this was all just some wildly crazy nightmare.

------

I picked myself up off the ground and walked into the kitchen. I still had to make a cake for Lydia. We were having an anniversary dinner. Tomorrow Lydia and I will have been together for five years. Those were the best years of my life. Even though I no longer live with Lydia we are still close. I love her like she's my mother. She has always treated me like a daughter. I open the freezer and take out the flour, sugar, and butter.

Where did I put the baking powder and vanilla flavoring? I lean against the counter as I try to remembers here I stashed last weeks groceries. Crackers are in the side table drawer. Bread is in the bathroom closet. Canned soup is stacked up in my closet. Baking power is in my raincoat pocket. Hurrying to my closet I searched through the clothes until I found the right coat. Sure enough, the baking powder was there. Which means.... I reached into the other pocket withdrawing a small bottle of imitation vanilla. Perfect. Now I can bake. Carrying my ingredients back into the kitchen I retrieved a glass mixing bowl and began measuring and mixing. One hour and thirty minutes later I pulled two perfectly baked cakes from the oven. I smiled at my efforts. Except for the fork mark in the center, the cakes were perfect. I set them on the stove top and draped a clean dish towel over them. Now they can cool while I sleep.