Page 96 of Count Your Lucky Stars
She stared at her screen. It was probably silly to wait for Margot to text back. It was the last night of Annie and Brendon’s bachelor-bachelorette trip. Margot should be spending it with her friends, not—her phone vibrated in her hand.
Margot (9:10 p.m.):I’m glad he’s okay.
Margot (9:10 p.m.):Are you still staying the night, or do you think you’re going to drive back?
Olivia winced. Getting back in her car and driving the forty-five minutes from Enumclaw to the lodge on little sleep, onlyto have to make a similar, if not slightly longer because of traffic, drive in the morning sounded unappealing. Even if she got right in her car, she wouldn’t make it to Salish until after ten.
Olivia (9:12 p.m.):I’m going to crash here and head out in the morning. I’ll see you tomorrow and we can talk more then. Okay?
Three little dots danced across her screen, starting and stopping, starting and stopping, almost hypnotic if not for how they caused her heart to race.
Margot (9:15 p.m.):Okay.
Her stomach sank. That was it?Okay?
Her phone buzzed.
Margot (9:16 p.m.):I’ll see you tomorrow.
Margot (9:16 p.m.):??
How silly was it that a simple heart emoji had the power to loosen the knots inside her stomach? She pressed her fingers to her smiling lips and typed back with one hand.
Olivia (9:17 p.m.):??????
***
“Hey, Livvy?”
God, no. There was no way it was time for her to wake up. Hadn’t shejustfallen asleep?
“Whattimeisit?” she slurred, burrowing deeper into her pillow. She cracked one eye open. Through the gauzy curtains covering the window of her childhood bedroom, it was still pitch-black out.
Dad chuckled. “Early. I just wanted to let you know I was heading out. Fishing, remember?”
Fishing. Right. She nodded. “Uh-huh. Okay.”
“You’re okay with locking up?”
She nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
Dad laughed again and leaned in, buffing his lips against her temple. “I’ll call you. You drive safe, okay? And good luck tomorrow with the wedding. I’m sure it’ll be great.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You go back to sleep.”
She did. Or something close to it. The blaring of her phone’s alarm jarred her awake at eight thirty, and she dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs, in desperate need of a cup of coffee.
Andthe pot was empty. She shut her eyes. Figures that Dad would’ve filled a thermos for the road, but he couldn’t have left her even one cup? She sighed and reached for a new filter to make a pot, checking the clock above the stove.She had time to brew a pot and slug down a cup before running through a quick shower and hitting the road.
While the coffee maker sputtered and hissed, the pot filling,she opened the refrigerator, surveying her breakfast options. Eggs,bacon. Dad had no business eating—oh, turkey bacon. That was better. Maybe he was taking his diet seriously after all. The produce bin was stocked, and there was a tub of Greek yogurt tucked behind a jar of applesauce. Kudos to Dad. The next time he said he was doing fine, she’d take his word for it.
After filling a bowl with yogurt and topping it with fresh raspberries and a handful of granola, Olivia perched a hip against the counter, spoon in one hand, phone in the other, studying her checklist for the next two days while she ate. The coffeepot beeped just as she set her empty breakfast bowl in the dishwasher.
Mug in one hand and phone in the other, Olivia padded back up the stairs, setting her favorite Spotify playlist to shuffle and running through a speedy shower. Her ancient blow-dryer—the one she had from high school that smelled more and more like burning metal with each use—conked out halfway through drying her hair, so she let the air do the rest while she rifled through her toiletry case in search of her mascara, which, in all likelihood, was probably buried at the bottom of the bag. Concealer, no. Lipstick, lipstick, lipstick—how many tubes did shehave? More than she needed—but no mascara. Screw it. Olivia upended her bag, shaking the contents out atop the counter and—
No.
