The Fall
A Short Story by
Iseult O'Brien.
What would you think if your husband started talking and dressing differently and spending every minute in the gym? Would you think he was having an affair? In this short story Iseult O'Brien has a look at the Andropause in action. The illustrations are her own.
Don't go there
The Fall
It wasn’t the hoodies or the buzz cut or the embarrassing trousers that tipped her off. I don’t even think it was his obsessive gym attendance and juice fasts that suggested to Olivia that Richard was having an affair. Don’t get me wrong. She had noticed the changes in her husband and she didn’t like them. It annoyed her that he now started all his phone conversations with “Yo” and ended them with “Later”. But she only began to suspect that something was wrong when he was reluctant to have a post-mortem with her about the O’Connells’s dinner party – the one where they served the rare chicken. Post-party deconstruction is one of the sacred rites of marriage. Everyone knows that. But when she asked him whether he thought that Valerie had had botox and if Steve was dying his hair, he responded with a sing-song “Don’t go there”.
Soon every suggestion that came out her mouth, whether it was time to get the dog groomed or if they should paint the kitchen Rectory Red or Radicchio, was met with an insolent “Whatever”. It occurred to her that her husband had fallen out of love with her and in love with somebody young and rather rude. She could see the signs.
You have to understand that Richard was one of those people who adopted the accent and conversational tics of anyone he spent time with. He had always been this way. Usually it was a passing thing. But this new way of talking was different. He seemed committed to it. Months went by and nothing changed. When Olivia asked him straight out why he was speaking like someone in a primetime sitcom, he said: “I think you’re being inappropriate”. As I say, it was hopeless.
Her sister Susan always held that Olivia was so gullible that if she walked in her hall door and Richard was lying on the floor of the living room in a clinch with a woman, she’d have assumed he was only trying to find her contact lens and would have offered to help. But after twenty years of marriage she was gullible no more.
His 50th birthday came and went. Olivia suggested that they celebrate it but he said no. When she tried to insist he called her “controlling”. He also called her “hostile” although he pronounced the word like the cheap accommodation known for its bunk beds and guitar-strumming students. That was the week when she tried to tell him what the gynecologist said and he just waved his hand in her direction and said: “Too much information”.
Their daughters Rosie and Lilly were astounded by the changes in their father. He used to come in from work and shout: “Why the hell hasn’t Eddy been walked!” and “Get the feckin’ Uggs out of the hall” but now he spoke in hushed tones and came across all sincere and honest, saying things like: “You guys really need to start doing your chores or I’m going to have to ground you”. The girls wished he would talk normally. Why couldn’t he complain loudly when they confused their adverbs with their adjectives like he used to? Now he told them they’d "done good" and "looked good" and that he was "real proud" of them. It was the same with the word “awesome”. He used to ban it inside the house. Now he used it liberally. It was as if he had been reprogrammed.
'Why the hell hasn't Eddy been walked?"
Day after day, Olivia sat in her office and asked herself who Richard might be sleeping with. It had to be someone from the gym. He had stopped coming home for dinner because he had so many Kickboxing, Bodybalance and Tai Chi classes in the evening – and “just grabbed a smoothie in the juice bar afterwards”. On linguistic grounds alone, the most likely woman to be his lover had to be his Pilates teacher. More American than the Americans themselves, Melanie O’Donnell urged her students to accept and love and forgive themselves. She promoted mindfulness, and a folding Pilates mat that costs 300 euro. Yes. It had to be Melanie.
Richard and Olivia had gone together to the first class back in January but Olivia had not returned. She just couldn’t take a teacher seriously who would say: “Saggitarians tend to be good at controlling their thigh muscles”. Richard had not only gone back but he had been to a few weekend Pilates workshops and Melanie was on his speed dial. Olivia had also seen his Visa card bill and he seemed to be splurging on ethical jewellery and bouquets of wild flowers.
On 14th October Richard knocked on Olivia’s office door and suggested grabbing a bite to eat “on Baggot”. They didn’t usually go out for lunch unless they needed to talk about something important like the office accounts. As she stared at her computer screen Olivia guessed that this was it. He was going to confess. But would he repent?
As they walked down Fitzwilliam Street she really hoped she’d got it all wrong. She wanted him to say to her.
“You’re a bloody lunatic. You have completely got the wrong end of the stick. I just happen to quite like Pilates but I have no interest in 25 year old Pilates instructors. I love you. I only suggested lunch because I wanted to talk about the Murphy account”.
But that’s not what he said. What he said was:
“I think that the last few years we have been on different journeys’.
By now they had finished lunch and were sitting in the local Starbucks at Richard’s request. Against a backdrop of befuddled pensioners mispronouncing their orders and wondering how to lay their hands on a nice cup of tea, she said:
“Richard. Are you sleeping with Melanie?
He placed his baseball cap on the table and said: “Melanie and I have a very deep connection”.
She said: “Does that mean you have a sexual relationship with her?
He said: “It’s physical. Yes.”
Olivia said: Do you want to leave me and marry her?”
He nodded his head: “I’ve promised Melanie a Valentine’s Day wedding somewhere down the line”.
And this from a man who used to comply with the philosophy of the stingy that Valentine’s Day is merely a commercial ruse on behalf of Hallmark. He had been so “principled” that he had never bought Olivia so much as a card or a mangy bunch of petrol station carnations. She supposed that Melanie was wooed with flowers, chocolates and balloons. Perhaps he had given her a kitten. He probably called her kitten. She summoned up a vision of Richard and Melanie lying in bed surrounded by candles. The sound system would be pumping out “Sometimes when we touch” or alternatively that great Streisand/Gibb hymn to infidelity: “Guilty”. Feeling sick, she got up and left without drinking her repulsive coffee. She went home and made herself a pot of tea, and didn’t drink it either because she was crying too much.
After the sadness passed, the surprise kicked in. Why would her husband dress like an 11 year old and speak like their teenage daughters. Why oh why would he be so interested in Starbucks? He has lived in Rome for God’s sake. He had spent time in Paris. He knows what coffee is supposed to taste like. And he can’t be just going there for the wifi. You can get wifi bloody anywhere in Dublin. It’s free on the blue bus that takes you to and from the airport. You can get it on the Luas.
“Thank God I don’t have to live with him anymore” she told her sister who came over as soon as she heard. She said this after she had knocked back three G&Ts and a large quantity of the limoncello that lurks at the back of everyone’s drinks cabinet. Within hours and with the sobering benefits of sleep she’d be fantasizing about his apologizing and declaring that he’d made a tit of himself and begging to come back. But although he did finally call – it was only to ask for a trial separation.
Around the time Richard stopped telling his wife that he loved her, he started saying it to his poor aged mother during Friday night dinners and it made Dymphna Mulligan feel very uncomfortable indeed.
She would say: “And I’m very fond of you too Richard” which would cause a great deal of hilarity around the table.
Dymphna noticed that her son had been behaving oddly since the beginning of the year. Olivia and he still came to dinner on Friday nights but he was increasingly finicky about the food. “I no longer eat carbs” he would announce or “I think I’ve developed an intolerance to dairy”. As tedious as his dietary requirements had become, Dymphna was more horrified by his clothes. He didn’t dress like a grown man anymore. She didn’t know what his poor sainted father would have said if he could see the state of him now.
On 20th October Richard turned up at his mother’s for Friday dinner on his own. Unshaven and wearing tight trousers, he explained to Dymphna that Olivia and he were separating and that he had moved out of the house. A friend of a friend had found him a flat on Herbert Place just in front of the Pepper Cannister. He told her this like it was good news. She just looked at him and said nothing. He said: “It is what it is”. Dymphna didn’t know what to say back so she still said nothing. Then he said: “Don’t go postal on me”
His poor mother walked into the kitchen to see to the roast potatoes. “Jesus Wept” she muttered.
A friend of a friend had found him a flat on Herbert Place just in front of the Pepper Cannister.
She saw him out after dinner and as he slipped on his leather jacket over his hoodie, he said
“Thanks mum. I’ll touch base with you during the week”. And she said: “If only you had “touched base” with me when you started thinking about leaving your wife, I might have tried to dissuade you”.
He put his hands in the air and said “My bad”.
Dymphna rang Olivia the next day and expressed sympathy. She said:
“Mea culpa, Mea Culpa. Mea Maxima Culpa”
“But it’s hardly your fault Dymphna that Richard no longer loves me”
But Dymphna did not agree.
“It’s got nothing to do with love. That’s all drivel. He is a married man who has behaved disgracefully. What he has done is dishonorable. And I blame myself”
Olivia stared at her phone.
“How on earth could it be your fault?”
“I shouldn’t have allowed him watch so much television when he was a boy particularly after his father died. He seems to have no values…..none at all.”
In confession, she brought up the TV thing. Father Crosby listened intently. He asked her a few questions about the TV programmes that were supposed to have caused the damage but he couldn’t really accept that Mork and Mindy and the Hill Street Blues were responsible for Richard Mulligan’s recent personality change. He just said:
”Get real Dymphna. That’s so not your fault. I’ll give you a bunch of Hail Marys for your penance if you like but only cos you want it so bad”.
A month later, Dymphna met Olivia in a coffee shop down town. Having ordered tea and a scone, she put down her menu and said to Olivia: “Mother of God. He’s having a nervous breakdown, isn’t he?”
“I think it’s more of a mid-life crisis than a full blown breakdown. I think it has something to do with the male menopause”.
“You mean the andropause?”, said Dymphna. “But doesn’t the andropause normally make men buy sports cars? This is the first time I’ve heard of a sufferer actually turning into a cast member from “Friends”.
They laughed about it a little but it was just no good. There was nothing funny about it. Dymphna was on valium and her nerves were officially “shattered”. Olivia had been tucking into industrial quantities of cake since Richard left. Eating was the only thing that kept the panic attacks at bay. Her red coat could now only be worn open. And in the meantime, Rosie had stopped eating entirely. As for Lilly, she spent hour upon hour in her bedroom playing the guitar and had spoken to no one for a month. He could say “It’s not you. It’s me” till the cows came home. But none of them believed him. Each one of them felt rejected. For Olivia it was almost as if he had died.
Dymphna asked Olivia if she knew anything about Richard’s girlfriend.
“Yes”, said Olivia. “Her name is Melanie. She is in her twenties. She makes him eat vegan food and exercise intensively. Not just Pilates. He also goes running. And I think he now goes spinning several times a week”.
“Is that the thing on the bicycle with the rock music?”
“Yes Dymphna it is”.
“The one where you have to wear the very unflattering shorts with bottom pads?”
“Im afraid so” she said.
“Christ Alive” said Dymphna.
Dymphna kept apologizing to her and paying her compliments. “You’ve always been a good wife and mother and he did not appreciate you” she would say. But Olivia hated it when she was portrayed as the victim in the affair. God knows, in many ways it was she who had driven him away. She had been a narky bitch these last few years – never wanting to join him in any of his pursuits, not even feigning interest in his hobbies and constantly making fun of him. Also she hadn’t let him buy the sports car he wanted nor had she permitted him to upgrade his iphone. She almost felt like she should apologise to him. She had even thought of begging him to come back – but there was a risk she’d get the new version when she only wanted the old. She’d have to wait it out.
By Christmas, a return didn’t seem to be in the offing. Richard and Olivia talked about their situation over sandwiches in the office.
“I’ll need to look at houses soon because Melanie wants lots of kids. She’s real maternal you know”
It was insensitive but Olivia now felt a little sorry for Richard as she did for all elderly fathers who carried their babies in slings and walked behind sprightly wives who were easy on the eye but hard on the eardrum. Working together hadn’t proven difficult so the idea of splitting up the business just didn’t come up. Many people, including her own sister, thought that Olivia was the business and Richard a mere journeyman. Olivia may even have been responsible for giving them that impression. But they just didn’t realize how good he was was with clients. Olivia knew that it was a true partnership. A lot of people underestimated Richard but she didn’t. And odd as it might seem she worried about him too.
“Are you happy Richard?”
“I’m very happy. Melanie’s beautiful and bright. You know she’s a real culture nerd. I think she’s seen every film ever made and all the shows on HBO.”
Olivia didn’t want to point out that knowing exactly what happens in Star Wars and being able to quote from every single episode of The Wire does not amount to being an intellectual. She didn’t need to point it out. Richard looked like a fool but he wasn’t one really.
It is what it is
But there was no point mulling over all of that. Olivia now had to make some changes. She had always been in charge of financial matters at home and at the office but Richard had taken care of everything else. When the Internet went down on Burlington Road, Rosie and Lilly begged her to call somebody in to fix it. There was true panic in their voices. Olivia was worried that if she didn’t do something about it quickly they would opt to live with Richard permanently rather than half the time. As she helped them get ready to spend Christmas in Herbert Place, she told them triumphantly that the computer repairman would be arriving any minute. “Good on you Mum” said Rosie.
Olivia had got his name from a woman in her Nordic Walking group. The woman in question, Anthea Doyle became a bit pink when she mentioned Dave Dempsey and it wasn’t because they were going uphill. In fact they had all stopped to open their flasks of milky tea in front of the waterfall in the Devil’s Glen. “Wait till you clap eyes on young Dempsey”, said Anthea. “He’s ruddy gorgeous”. “He can’t be” said Naomi Stephenson while unzipping the lower legs of her hiking trousers so as to give her generous calves a good rub. “Isn’t he the nephew of that unforgivably plain politician …you know the one…?” Sally Collins knew. Sally always seemed to know everything about everyone. “If you mean Dominic Dempsey”, said Sally “the one who the Guards caught accepting brown envelopes stuffed with cash down the road from the Dáil – no not exactly a matinée idol.” Naomi said “That fella used to loiter in front of Knobs and Knockers for hours on end in his suit and anorak with a large badge around his neck on a string, like a football manager on the sidelines. It’s a wonder the guards took so long to catch up with him. Apparently he didn’t just receive the envelopes, he distributed them too”.
Olivia said: “Anthea does the nephew understand computers? I’m desperate”.
“He certainly does” said Anthea who had her phone out and was busing tapping away his number.
“And let me tell you, you won’t be disappointed. He’s handsome and immaculately turned out. And he has magic in his fingers. He really does”.
Anthea’s description of Dave Dempsey must have been accurate because Lilly and Rosie nudged each other when they saw him arrive. And even though it was Olivia who opened the door to him she didn’t notice the excitement because Eddy was barking like a maniac. He made such a racket that she had to shut him up in the kitchen. Only then did she give the girls a hug and usher them out the door. Richard was standing at the gate in lycra. He gave her a wave. She waved back. It was painful to see him on this, their first ever Christmas Eve apart. The girls looked so happy as they ran out to their dad in their good coats their arms full of presents. She’d just have to get through this as best she could.
Back inside the house, she found your man having a look at the photographs in the hall. Oh sorry, she said, I never told you where it was. Pointing to the modem she said: “It cuts out constantly.” She went into the kitchen to clear up but ended up sitting on a kitchen chair sobbing silently. Eddy sat at her feet and looked up at her with chocolate eyes and touched her leg with his paw. She got up and gave him the bone he had been gnawing on and off all week. He settled into his basket to enjoy it. I ought to pull myself together, she thought. After a half an hour or so – the kitchen was tidy. She put the kettle on and went into the living room to see how the repairman was getting on.
“Er Hello. Would you like a cup of coffee?” she said.
He looked up and she nearly fainted. He would have been too good looking to be a film star as he would have been implausible in any role.
“No. I’m fine thanks.” he said rising to his feet and giving her a firm handshake with some significant eye contact: “Anthea tells me she’s in your walking group”.
“She is”, said Olivia. “How are you getting on there? Is it complicated?”
“It’s banjaxed alright but I’ll just pop a new plug on there and we’ll be laughing”.
Olivia went back into the kitchen and picked up her ipad When some time later he came in to find her, she was engrossed in a sensitive modern novel entitled “Bitches and Bastards”.
Eddy dropped his precious bone and ran over and barked at the intruder.
“Oh sorry” said Olivia, picking up his bone and throwing it in the garden. Eddy shot out the back door in pursuit of it, ears flapping. She shut the door behind him.
“Sorry about that. You were saying?” she said
“I was just saying that it seems to be functioning properly now. Perhaps you’d like to run a test”.
She went into her email and sent a message to the girls asking them to send her love to their grandmother. “Although I miss you” she wrote “I couldn’t have deprived you of your Granny’s Christmas Dinner”. She pressed send and it sent – quickly and easily.
“Brilliant. It seems to be working. Thank you. How much do I owe you?”.
“Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll send you a bill. Anthea tells me you run Mulligans Interiors. I love what you’ve done in those restaurants in Temple Bar. The “Regrette Rien” is a triumph. You’re big on saturated hues aren’t you?”
Olivia didn’t approve of this over familiarity and wasn’t too sure how to reply to that. But Dave was already on to the next thing:
“Hey is that Tierra del Fuego?” he said pointing to an enormous blown up photograph hanging on the kitchen wall. It was of Olivia sitting on a horse in the middle of an emerald green field in front of snow-capped mountains. She was wearing a huge turquoise necklace and looking slightly more fabulous than she ever had in real life. Photographs can be so misleading.
“That’s a beaut“
She told him that it had been taken in Patagonia where they had gone during a trip around South America.
He whistled. "Gorgeous Olivia. Absofuckinglutey gorgeous”. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave. She didn’t remember giving him permission to call her by her first name.
“No Christmas decorations I see? Off on your holliers, are you?”
“Er no. I separated a few months ago and as my children are spending Christmas with their Dad, I didn’t really bother much with that sort of stuff this year”.
“How are you spending Christmas?”
“I’m going to my sisters? How about you?”
“Oh the usual family affair. I’ll be eating turkey and ham in my mother’s. I don’t look forward to it as my brother will be there and he is a miserable git. But I've no choice. There'd be wigs on the green if I didn’t turn up. You know the way it is. But there’s always a decent spread – my uncle always gets the Old Dear a top notch bird. Every year without fail”.
She wasn’t sure how to follow that up. She had never been much of a cook and didn’t have a view on turkeys and hated people who used the word "spread". But for some inexplicable reason she felt it would be rude not to keep chatting for a while or to offer some hospitality:
“Are you ready for a cup of coffee now?”
“Coffee”? He looked at her as if she were mad. “Fuck it. Why don’t we have a glass of wine? Isn’t it Christmas after all?”
It was so impertinent of him but such a laugh really. Dymphna would say that he had a great welcome for himself. And he did but he also had a lovely smile. He also had remarkably good eyesight. How he spotted the red wine in the wooden rack on the kitchen island from where he was standing, she could not fathom. Olivia had been dying for a drink for days but as she wasn’t given to drinking alone, she had not succumbed. This was a perfect excuse even though she wasn’t quite sure what this was.
They drank wine and talked about travel. He laughed and she laughed, pushing loose strands of her hair back from her glittering eyes as he complimented her.
“You must be having me on. 49? You can’t be 49. I thought you were in your early thirties:
An hour later she opened a second bottle of wine. Rooting in the cupboard she found some pistachios and shook them out on to a plate. Then they talked about films. By this time, Eddy was back inside and dozing in front of the range.
“You call them films and not movies?” she said. “Gimme Five”. They both laughed and slapped the palms of their hands against each others. His hand lingered slightly on hers.
After she dripped the last bit of the wine into their glasses and sympathized with him for having an ex girlfriend who made Caligula look sane, she heard him say:
“Let’s go out and get you a real tree. They cost a few bob but they’re worth it”. It was a bit of a romantic comedy trope. She looked at him – he was probably 28 – but he might still be a psychopath. She said: “Well, er…..”
No don’t worry I’m not trying to bundle you into a car. Actually I don’t own one. They are selling the trees on the canal beside Leeson Street Bridge. Come on put your coat on”. It had started to snow lightly.
“You’ll catch your death of cold if you don’t cover up” he said twisting her scarf around her, his fingertips brushing lightly against her right breast. If I may say so, your husband needs his head examined. He went off with a young one you say?”.
Olivia nodded and shrugged. Noticing that she was wearing her coat, Eddy bounded out of his basket and ran towards her, his ears flapping behind him, his lead in his mouth.
There were only three trees left and they were being tended by a middle-aged man in a parka.
“How much?” she said pointing at the biggest one -
“50 euro”
“On Christmas Eve? Are you having us on?” said Dave
“Gwanourradah.” said the man “ I'll give it to yiz fur 40. Buh dont tell me ye live in feckin' Hardles Cross or Ratmoins”
“No it’s fine”, said Dave, “We’re only up the road. Delivery won't be necessary” He waited while Olivia placed a couple of notes into the man’s palm and hauled the tree on to his shoulder
“Aah” said the man. “Glad to see yizzer being good to yer Mammy over de Chrimbo”
“How astonishing”, said Olivia to Dave as they walked away. “Did you hear that? He thought we were brother and sister”. Dave smiled. What great teeth he had.
While Dave potted the tree and untangled the lights – Olivia found the crib in a box in the attic. She unwrapped all the figures and set it up in the hall. It was a proper Spanish crib and her pride and joy. The scene was resolutely middle-eastern with little villages and scenes of village life. The figures were hand carved. It had cost a pretty penny. He came out and looked at it and nodded in approval. That must have been when he kissed her.
Next morning, she was woken by a phone call. It was Susan checking to see if Christmas Eve hadn’t been too hard and whether they could expect her this afternoon:.
“Don’t worry Susie”, she said: “I am managing to keep my mind off things” she said looking over to Dave who was still half a sleep and fully unclothed.
“See you this afternoon”.
As she put the phone down, Dave opened his eyes: “What time is it?” he said.
“9.30”.
“Right I’ll make you my legendary scrambled eggs and then I think we should take Eddy for a walk. Are you on for that?”
“I think it’s an excellent idea”.
It irritated her that he said legendary. He had said the same about the spaghetti carbonara last night and it was only passable. She watched him make tea and toast, moving around the kitchen like it was his own, reorganizing her drawers and clearing out the fridge without asking for permission. She wasn’t quite as keen on his smile this morning. It involved too much saliva. And he talked and laughed a bit too loudly.
“Have you seen the snow?” he said placing the teapot in front of her. “I’m not sure I have enough clothes to go out in that”. He had started whisking the eggs.
“Don’t worry – I may be able to help” she said.
After breakfast, Olivia steered him towards Richard’s pre-Melanie wardrobe. It was full of jackets, coats, suits and handmade shoes. Dave tried on the cashmere coat she had given Richard last Christmas. It cost a bomb and had never been worn. He also chose some leather gloves and a warm scarf – all branded. He seemed to have an eye for style. He was eyeing up the Church's shoes when Olivia told him to hurry up. They didn’t have all that much time before they would need to go to their respective family meals. They went out on to the street together – arm in arm (that was safer in the snow) although she really hoped she wouldn’t meet anyone she knew. It would difficult to explain him. They walked down the canal to Leeson Street Bridge and then the whole way down to Stephen’s Green. Much to Eddy’s consternation, Dave insisted on holding the lead. They had planned to let him run free on the Green. To their disappointment, they found it was closed so they walked around it and on to an empty snowy white Grafton Street.
While Dave admired a window display, Olivia’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and looked at the message. It was from Richard. It said:
“I have been an utter fool. Forgive me. We all want you to spend the day with us and I want you to spend the rest of your life with me”
This was the tenth message she had received from him since the night before. But it was the first one she had opened.
She could just about make out the singing from Clarendon Street Church
Cantet nunc io, chorus angelorum;
Cantet nunc aula cælestium,
“Dave” she said
“Yes”.
I’m going to go home now”.
He must not have heard her because he said:
“Which of these watches do you like best?”
“Sorry”
“Do you prefer the Rolex or the Patek Philippe?”
“Oh. I’m not really into watches. I think I’ll go home now Dave”, she said. “My shoulder hurts. I pulled a muscle during an exercise class last month and it has been giving me trouble. I need to go home and rest before lunch. I also have to make some mince pies”.
He put his arm around her.
“Right. We’ll go home and I’ll give you a massage. My massages are legendary”.
We could go somewhere magical
“No. That won't be necessary”, she said. “Your mother will be disappointed if you don’t show up to your lunch. You really can’t come back with me”
Dave did not look convinced. He adopted a stern look.
“You know Olivia. You need to think about yourself now. What you need is a holiday away from the family and stress. How long has it been since you took some time off? It would do wonders for your shoulder, To hell with Christmas dinner. Who needs it? We could go somewhere magical instead. Why don’t we just toddle along to the airport and pick up a couple of tickets…for anywhere. Wouldn’t that be a riot?
His hair fell into his eyes in a charming manner. He wasn’t smiling now. He was looking at her with intensity. He had his arms around her waist as he said this. He was very tall and strong and made her feel almost dainty, almost young. And now he was sort of proposing to her.How could she not accept?
“You’re a chancer Dave Dempsey” she said. “But you can keep the coat”.
He stared at her for a few moments and then burst out laughing.
“Ah fair play to you”, he said. Handing her the lead, he kissed her on her cheek. "Happy holidays" he said and loped off down the road.
Olivia took out her phone and texted:
“That sounds awesome. I’m on my way”.
Simply awesome
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