Olive, Again: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

a sudden laugh of understanding—had become tall and unyielding, and not providing flowers in its crannies but some ice storm frozen along it instead. In other words, something had come between them that seemed insurmountable. She could, on certain days, point out to herself the addition of a boulder here, a pile of rocks there (Christopher’s adolescence, her feelings for that Jim O’Casey fellow so long ago who had taught school with her, Henry’s ludicrous behavior with that Thibodeau girl, the horror of a crime she and Henry had endured together when, under the threat of death, unspeakable things were spoken; and there had been Christopher’s divorce, and his leaving town), but she still did not understand why they should walk into old age with this high and horrible wall between them. And it was her fault. Because as her heart became more constricted, Henry’s heart became needier, and when he walked up behind her in the house sometimes to slip his arms around her, it was all she could do to not visibly shudder. Stop!, she wanted to shout. (But why? What crime had he been committing, except to ask for her love?)
    “It’s a breast pump,” Ashley said to her. Because Olive was holding a plastic contraption, turning it over, unable to figure out what it was. “Okay,” Olive said, and she handed it to Ashley. Olive looked at the table of gifts and thought that not even a dent had been made in them.
    A pale green baby’s blanket came around. Olive liked the feel of it; she kept it on her lap, smoothing her hands over it. Someone said, “Mrs. Kitteridge, let’s share,” and Olive handed it to Ashley immediately. Ashley said, “Ooh, this is nice, ” and that’s when Olive saw that Ashley had drops of sweat running down the side of her face. And then Olive thought—she was quite sure—she heard the girl whisper, “Oh God.” When the green blanket reached Marie at the far end of the room, Ashley stood and said, “Excuse me, bathroom break.” And Marlene said, “You know where it is, right?” And Ashley said that she did.
    A set of baby bath towels came around, and Ashley’s chair was still empty. Olive handed them to the girl on the other side of the empty chair, and then she stood and said, “I’ll be back.” In the kitchen Olive found Ashley, bent over the sink, saying, “Oh God, oh God.”
    “Are you all right?” Olive said loudly. The girl shook her head. “You’re in labor,” Olive said.
    The girl looked at her then, her face was wet. “I think I am,” she said. “This morning I thought maybe I’d had a contraction, but then I didn’t have any more, and now— Oh God, ” she said, and she bent over, clinging to the edge of the sink.
    “Let’s get you to the hospital,” Olive said.
    In a moment, Ashley stood straight, calmer. “I just don’t want to spoil this, it’s so important to her. You know”—she whispered this to Olive—“I don’t know if Rick is even going to marry her.”
    “Who cares,” Olive said. “You’re about to have a baby. To hell with spoiling it for her. They won’t even notice you’re gone.”
    “Yes, they will. And then the attention will be on me. And it should be on—” Ashley’s face wrinkled and she held the edge of the sink again. “Oh God, oh God,” she said.
    “I’m getting my bag and driving you to the hospital right now,” Olive said, aware that she was using her schoolteacher’s voice. She walked back into the living room and retrieved her big black bag.
    People were laughing at something; loud laughter poured into Olive’s ears. “Olive?” It was Marlene’s voice coming to her.
    Olive raised a hand above her head and went back to the kitchen, where Ashley was panting. “Help me,” Ashley said; she was weeping.
    “Come on,” Olive said, pushing the girl toward the door. “That’s my car right there, on the lawn. Get in it.”
    Marlene appeared and said, “What’s happening?”
    “She’s in labor,” Olive said,