Page 7 of Unexpected Love

Olivia stands at about five-foot-five, though her slender frame and long legs make her seem taller. She’ll always be the baby of the family to me, but now at sixteen it’s easy to see the young woman she’s growing into.

She hasn’t gotten dressed for the day yet. Her light brown hair is thrown up in a messy knot on her head, and she’s still in her flannel pajama pants, an army sweatshirt to ward off the chill in the air, and a pair of fuzzy socks. She looks cozy, exactly how you want to be on a fall morning.

Liv rolls her eyes at the nickname. “You’re late.”

I glance down at my watch and see it’s 6:52 a.m. I guess I am a few minutes later than normal. “Sorry. Walt had a question for me when I ran past the bar.”

“What was he doing there so early?” she asks as I walk up the porch stairs, pulling her into a hug and ignoring her when she pushes at me. “Disgusting! You’re all sweaty!” She squirms out of my hold, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Murphy’s gets their deliveries early Monday mornings. He was there dealing with those.” I chuckle as we walk into the house. “Hey, Ma,” I say when I see her in the kitchen at the end of the hall.

While Liv is still getting herself ready for the day, I know Mom has been up for a couple of hours by now. She’s already dressed in worn jeans, a thick flannel shirt, and a pair of work boots on her feet. Her hair is falling in its natural waves past her shoulders, and I have no doubt her hat is close by to throw back on before she gets back to her farm chores.

“Hi, honey.” She smiles and offers her cheek for a kiss. “What does your day look like?” she asks as she hands me a cup of coffee and turns back to the stove where she’s making breakfast.

I sit at the kitchen island, Liv plopping into the seat next to me, and watch Mom move around. Closer to her now, I see the light strain on her face, the wrinkles a little more prominent than normal. At fifty-one, she’s still more than capable of managing everything on her own, but I know it’s got to be wearing on her more each year.

While the farm isn’t a working farm anymore and doesn’t produce anything on a major scale, Mom does have a vegetable garden, and goats, cows, and chickens. All of which produce far more than she and Liv need. While she gives a lot away to neighbors, she also sells a decent amount at a few different farmers’ markets in the area.

“I’m due at the courthouse this morning, so I got a little bit of a later start to the day,” I answer her.

She glances at me quickly, but I still see the look of concern cross her face. “You’re working today?”

“What else would I be doing?” I know I’m being intentionally evasive. I wasn’t in a great place when I first came home after my discharge from the army, and Mom saw that firsthand. She was worried and had every right, but I bounced back quickly—mostly because that’s what was expected of me.

I’ve always been the “good time guy,” the person you go to for a laugh, the comedic relief. It’s a person I like being. I don’t enjoy staying in the negative moments; I’d much rather find a positivespin to any situation. But sometimes it's hard to find the positive when your life takes a different turn than you were expecting—and one you didn’t want.

I wanted to retire from the army, not be honorably discharged. It was going to be my career. But after a failed mission that resulted in an injury causing chronic back pain, making it impossible for me to meet the fitness requirements expected of a special forces operative, my responsibilities changed. I appreciated they still found me valuable enough to want me behind a desk, but I was never good at sitting still. I could have retired from the military if I wanted, but it wouldn’t have been thewayI wanted.

Coming home had been a change. Things weren’t the way I left them. My mom had divorced her second husband, and my dad had divorced his third wife. My siblings were all teenagers with new personalities, interests, and lives of their own. Finding a place for myself in all that was hard—especially while coping with the loss of a career I truly loved.

I moved in with Mom when I first got back to Ashford Falls. I love my father—he truly tries his best—but Mom has always been the more settled between the two of them. And when I first got home, I needed settled. But moving in with Mom meant she saw my transition back to civilian life the most. After twelve years in the army—three with special forces—I was allowed to be a little less cheerful.

Mom was more than understanding and never pushed me more than I needed. I appreciated that she let me figure it out on my own—it would have been so easy for her to push me back into “normal” life, especially on the weeks Liv stayed with Mom.

ButIhated my mental state—it wasn’t who I was used to being and it wasn’t who I wanted to be.

So I pushed myself to find a new purpose in life, something I could be proud of doing. Law enforcement felt like the rightplace to be. I might not be helping the country at large, but I’m still helping people, and that’s what I want most.

Living with Mom for those six months while I was in the police academy was probably the best thing I did for myself. She pushed me while also supporting me—both mentally and emotionally. She knew when I needed space and when I needed attention. And Liv had been the perfect distraction when I needed one.

I think those six months in this house are why Liv and I are as close as we are. While I missed most of her childhood, I got to be here for all the big moments since, and I honestly wouldn’t pass that up for anything, even being back in the army.

“Well, it’s the anniversary of your discharge—three years since you lost your dream,” Liv says all nonchalant next to me. “So, I mean, I think it’s reasonable to question if you might want to take the day off and do something else. Like wallow on your couch while binging your favorite TV show and eating a whole bunch of junk food.”

I see the look in Mom’s eyes, ready to reprimand Liv for the flippant way she’s talking about my discharge, but I appreciate Liv’s realness. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you break up with someone?” I ask.

“Well, yeah. But wouldn’t you say your discharge was like a break-up? They wanted to keep you. You were the one who wanted out, the one who walked away.”

“Olivia Grace.” Mom’s voice is stern, a clear warning she’s toeing the line, but I laugh because Liv’s not wrong.

“Maybe that first year wallowing would have been acceptable, but it’s been three years. Besides, dreams can always change.” I nudge her shoulder lightly. “We can’t stay the same, and if we do then we’re doing something wrong.”

“That might be a little too profound for seven o’clock in the morning.”

“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite sister?” I chuckle.

“That line doesn’t work on me anymore. I’m not five. I recognize that I’m your only sister and, therefore, the only option.”

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