The morning of her 30th birthday, she sat in the warm sand watching Crawford surf. Thirty years had passed, where had it gone? 28, 29 even hadn't fazed her, but 30. She thought about her life, from a malnourished, terrified child, to a fierce and angry teen with her heart belonging to Benny, to the serious business owner, fighter and competitor, her eyes narrowed as Crawford floated on top of a white cap...to a heartbreaker, adulteress, home wrecking late twenty-something, and now here she sat, out of Southie, a 'home-owner' of sorts and her heart belonging to Crawford now, but not all of it, they both knew it. There was that chunk, that part, that would never be anyone else's, not hers, not his, but Benny's.
He gracefully fell into the water, she had put him through a lot, always wondering when he'd have enough and realize what she'd been telling him all along was true. But Olivia was selfish, she didn't want to be alone, she'd try and be what he deserved and love him how he loved her.
"Olivia, come on!" He yelled from the water, "It's great." He'd given her her present as soon as she woke up, custom to her size, a glossy pink and black surfboard with her name artfully scribed on the end. It was thoughtful and he'd made it, it was a reason to go out in the water more. She stood and grabbed the board and they paddled out together. Olivia had practiced a few times since they moved in, but still felt like a baby giraffe on the board. She mostly just watched him on the water, as natural as breathing, graceful as anything. Growling stomachs and wrinkled fingers brought them in and he made her banana walnut pancakes while she showered.
"What do you want to do today?" He asked over the pancakes on the living room sofa. The checklist was already in her head, most of it business related. "Nothing, we are going out tonight right? I have work to do." She said and dumped more syrup onto her plate.
"So I have to put you on a plane and take you away to get you to relax?" He smirked and brushed his hair back, she nodded and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead. "You would think that after living in San Diego over a year you'd tan a little bit." He rubbed his thumb over her white cheek.
"I'm just sooo Irish—must be the bad Black Irish blood in me." She snorted with a thick Irish accent and rolled her eyes, she liked being pale. Crawford insisted on doing the dishes despite her protests, so she sat down on her computer and checked orders, inventory, whom she'd sold to and sent follow up e-mails and inquiries for future sales meetings, in the late afternoon she was in the spare bedroom organizing her materials when the house phone rang, they only had two phones, one on the wall in the living room and one next to the linen closet upstairs.
"Hello." She said without bothering to look at the caller ID, there was a series of clicks.
"You have a collect call from an inmate at Pelican Bay Prison 'Bobby Granger', do you accept the charges?" A robot voice said, Olivia's knees buckled and her stomach dropped, she crashed onto the floor, a terrified cry escaping her lips.
"Thank you, your call is being connected." The robot said, she was frozen in terror.
"Olivia? Hello?" A slow, old voice came over the line.
"How the fuck did you get this number?" She choked out, forcing the fear out of her voice.
"Can't an old man call his daughter on her birthday?"
"HOW'D YOU GET MY NUMBER?" Bile was rising in her throat.
"I've been in prison a long time, you make friends with people for favors. Never thought I'd find out you were on the same coast as me." His voice was evil and gravelly.
"Don't ever, ever, ever contact me ever again." Olivia threw the phone down and couldn't move aside from the violent shaking that was wracking her body.
YOU ARE READING
I choose me.
General Fiction"I choose me" follows the story of Olivia Granger , her life from an orphan, to an athlete and business owner, to a woman whose life turns in a direction she never ever thought it would go, a direction she never even knew could exist. It is a hear...
