After Olivia

23

"Oh, I had a look; it's not the cable. The whole derailleur is shot," Patrick said as he moved into the living room and munched on the pepperoni slice.

As Matilda sat and watched, it would have been easy for her to fade into the background; an audience member with no role to play in the show. But she didn't. The conversation and antics that swirled around her pulled her in. She smiled and laughed as she added her voice to the conversation. She felt included as if she was part of the family.

Patrick snuck back into the kitchen from behind Matilda and startled her as he spoke into her ear, "Cover me, I'm going in for the mozzarella."

Matilda pointed to a stand mixer on the counter behind Rachel and asked, "Rachel, do you use that stand mixer to—"

Patrick moved quickly to pinch a few strands of shredded cheese while his wife's head was turned, then gave Matilda a thumbs up as he dropped onto the stool beside her. She giggled as Rachel called her out for her treachery.

"So, what happened to the pictures?" Bill asked as he nodded towards the hall behind him.

"They're all in a box. We're finally getting around to painting the rest of the living room," Patrick replied.

*****

Several minutes had passed since Bill parked the car in front of Matilda's house. The conversation that occupied the drive faded away and yielded to a comfortable silence. Matilda occasionally looked toward the house, then back at him. The house was dark except for the porch and the entry hallway lights.

"I guess I should get in the house," Matilda said reluctantly.

"May I walk you to the door, this time?" Bill asked.

Matilda's nod sent Bill scrambling to get around to the passenger door before she had stepped out. He extended his hand to assist her then retrieved her bag from the backseat once she was clear of the car.

"I would ask you to come in, but my grandmother doesn't approve of people stopping in unexpected," she said. "She could be asleep through a visit, but if she finds out in the morning, I'll be in so much trouble. And my mom... don't ask."

"I'll just walk you to the door," Bill replied.

Bill took Matilda's hand and held it gently as they approached the house. She sensed a nervousness in the light grip and subtle tremble of his fingers. On the top step, he drew her close and placed his hands on her waist. She tipped her head back and extended her neck and upper body as he lowered his. Their eyes closed and their lips met and moved softly for a moment. He hesitated to open his eyes and draw himself away. Would she still be there, or had she dissolved into the evening air, a cruel end to a dream that would quickly transition into dark and haunting nightmares?

With his eyes still closed, Bill heard Matilda breath in deeply and felt her hands over top of his. He could feel she was still there. Still with him. When he opened his eyes, he saw hers beaming back into his. He studied them. A glint of the porch light reflected off the surface, a detail not borrowed from a memory his mind had used to construct her for a lucid dream. Her hand in his, the kiss, the entire day he spent with her was real. He took in a deep breath of the evening air and smiled.

"I better get in before..." Matilda said as she released his hand.

Bill reluctantly let her fingers slip from his and watched her turn away. She turned the key in the lock then opened the door and let it swing open wide while she looked back towards him. It was then that he realized that Matilda's reluctance to invite him in was well founded. Her mother stood at the entry just far enough in to let the door swing past her.