The Periods of Being

Chapter X

Chapter X

     Olive is the last one to enter the drawing-room. Marina and Freya wear gorgeous dresses like hers, but unlike her, they wear smiles as they realize the last person has finally arrived. Olive's father, Henry, stands next to the table in the back of the room with a glass in his hands, talking to a familiar man Olive wishes to stay away from. She keeps her stare away from them both to try to not catch the eyes of Andrew. After their short moment outside today— and after everything today— she can't face him again. Not yet, at least.

     Marina and Freya welcome her with a smile and wave her over to sit next to them on the same couch she sat in last night. Olive takes small steps. Once she'll be close, her mother will be able to see her blotchy eyes fighting to bloom like ugly flowers with the pollinated irises in her eyes. She sits at the other end of the couch far from where Freya and Marina sit. Her mother says nothing about the distance that Olive chose to put between them. Instead, she opens a friendly conversation between them.

     "How are you doing today? Well I hope." Marina pins a small smile in the corners of her full lips. Olive nods at the question to stand in for her real answer. Her eyes drift to Freya in need of her to not reveal what happened today. She can stand to have Freya worry about her, but she can't have her mother doing the same. Once mothers start worrying, they manifest in it and don't stop until all is well again.

     Nothing will be well again in the heart of Olive's, so she can't have her mother worry. She seeks for no one's help but Mark's and the memories they shared. Even with him and the memories, they weren't helping in the ways they should. They dug her grave further, extending the eight feet hole for her future casket.

     Were they helping with her, then? She couldn't decide.

     Marina tries to spark light conversation with Olive, but nothing comes out of it. All Olive can pay attention to is the party happening behind her where her father and Andrew stand with drinks in their hands. She keeps her eyes diverted on her sister and her mother, who now talk freely with each other after Marina finally figures that Olive is not up to talk, but her ears focus onto the conversation happening behind her. They talk about nothing at first, but her heart pitter-patters each time she thinks they'll mention Mark...and even despite her being in the room.

     They do.

     Her heart shatters as they speak about him in the past tense.

     "I didn't believe the news when Olive called me that morning," Henry says. Olive imagines him taking another sip from his glass by the swish of ice she hears ping against the glass walls.

     "When Freya told me, I just...I couldn't believe it." Andrew's voice doesn't crack, but he finds it necessary to pause in the middle. Her eyes wish to see if he had taken a drink as her father did, but she keeps her eyes on Freya, who is speaking, but Olive hears nothing she is saying.

     "Olive?" Marina catches. Olive swallows and removes herself from Andrew and Henry's conversation to assert herself back to Freya and Marina.

     "Yes?" She gulps.

     "Freya has been trying to get your attention," Marina tells her with worry. Olive's cheeks burn with shame and guilt of not paying attention.

     "Sorry, I was lost in thought," she lies. "Is something the matter?" The question feels like a joke on her tongue. Everything is wrong and should be in the matter of all topics, but she holds her thoughts together. If Freya has something to say, she finds she has to listen. After all, Freya was there to listen to her— and let her cry to her today.