As You Wish Read online

  Kit said that Mr. Gates had some muscle on him. After all, he’d been lifting Uncle Freddy for years, but since he hated the water, that caused problems. Kit had to do a lot of coaxing. As for Uncle Freddy, Kit said that marshmallows had more muscle than he did.

  Olivia learned to tell the cleaning women when they called in sick that the work would be waiting for them. Every day, she put on a swimsuit and helped Kit with the lessons. And she started a dance class that everyone—kids, old men, Kit, Bill and Nina—participated in. Livie was sure Mr. Gates was recovering when he said he’d do any ridiculous thing she came up with just to see her in a pink leotard.

  On Sunday, Kit and Olivia drove Ace to the hospital to see his mother. They’d even taken her a big slice of chocolate cake. She’d been barely coherent but she’d smiled at her son, and Kit had held the boy so he could kiss her cheek.

  It was taking a while, but everyone was coming back to life after the near-death experience.

  One day when he was on his way to the orchard where he was going to help Kit with the mowing, Bill waved to his wife and Livie. They were sitting at the big picnic table at the side of their little house and snapping and stringing a couple of bushels of green beans. They planned to can them that afternoon and promised that they’d make his favorite dilly beans.

  As Bill left, he didn’t see the two girls coming down the old brick path.

  “Olivia!” Betty Schneider called.

  Olivia was sitting across from Nina, her back to the young woman, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “What did I do to deserve this?” she muttered. It took all her acting training to get her face under control and put a smile on before she turned around.

  Betty and her friend Shirley Williamson were coming toward them. Olivia had gone to high school with the two girls. They’d been quite popular as they were pretty in a cute way and they’d had all the latest clothes. Sweaters with a padded cutout of a horse on the back, kilted skirts with brass buckles, a circle pin on every Peter Pan collar, with matching bows in their hair. They’d headed every committee, had the top athletes for boyfriends, and never did anything wrong. They were perfect!

  As for Livie, she was so involved in the theater group that she just tried to get to class with no paint on her face.

  “Olivia!” Shirley said. “How wonderful to see you.”

  To Livie’s consternation, Shirley leaned forward to kiss Olivia’s cheek, and Betty followed.

  “That’s how they do it in New York, isn’t it? Or is that in France? I get those mixed up.” Shirley giggled in a way that said she believed she was still cute.

  Olivia stepped back. “This is Nina Tattington. Her husband—”

  “Tattington? Do you own this old place?” Betty asked.

  “No, my husband and I just work here for the summer.”

  As they were scrutinizing Nina, sizing her up, Olivia was looking at them. They were as dressed up and made up as stage performers. Betty’s eyebrows had been plucked until there was little left of them, and Shirley’s hair had been ironed flat. No kinky curls were left in it.

  They had on skirts so tight they were like sausage casings and their blouses were open down to their bras. Their legs were encased in panty hose and their feet squashed into the pointed toes of high heels.

  What do they want? Olivia wondered. Her mother had kept her filled in on the town gossip so Olivia knew that these two hadn’t had the perfect lives they’d expected. Betty had married her high school football player, but they’d divorced a year later and he’d moved to California. Shirley’s boyfriend broke their engagement after she’d been wearing his ring for four years. Olivia’s mother said the boy had volunteered for Vietnam rather than marry Shirley.

  When he got back, he’d immediately married some girl who Shirley had always considered beneath her.

  As for Olivia, in high school their attitude toward her had been that she didn’t exist.

  She’d never been invited to their parties or asked to join them in the cafeteria. But then, Olivia had never tried to be part of their crowd. To her, high school had been a stepping-stone to where she was going to go.

  Without being invited, the girls sat down at the picnic table.

  “So, Olivia,” Betty said, “I hear you were fired from your Broadway play.”

  As she sat down at the end of the bench, Olivia opened her mouth to defend herself, but she closed it. It looked like the girls were still in the territory of high school, still degrading people to make themselves feel better. She smiled. “I was, and now I’m the cleaner for a couple of old men.”

  Nina coughed to cover a laugh.

  Olivia could give their cattiness back to them. “And what about you two? Married? Kids?”

  Both of them frowned.

  “I wouldn’t have any man in this town,” Betty said. “You were right to go to New York to get one.”

  Olivia was puzzled by the remark. “I didn’t get a man.”

  “What about the one everyone in town saw you fawning over at the tea shop? We heard it was quite embarrassing.”

  “And we also heard that he runs around here wearing no clothes.” Shirley’s voice was low, suggestive.

  Olivia’s face lost its fake look of complacency. They’re after Kit, she thought. They’ve come here with pounds of makeup on as bait for Kit.

  “So what’s he like?” Betty asked.

  “I heard he’s rich,” Shirley said. “Your father told Mr. Wilson at the club who told my uncle that the man has a palace in Italy. Is he a prince?”

  Olivia looked at them in horror. She had a vision of the two of them—and the other single females in town—parading around Tattwell in four-inch heels.

  She glanced at the bowls of green beans and saw it all ending. She suddenly realized that they had created a family here at Tattwell. They had inside jokes; they each had tasks. They knew about each other. Cared. Loved. Yes, they’d grown to love one another.

  And she did not want that to end!

  Olivia dug deep under her own emotions to find the character she needed to play. She gave a little laugh, doing her best to sound as though she didn’t care. “Are you talking about Christopher? He’s rich? You have to be kidding! Would he be mowing lawns if he had any money? And girls...” She leaned toward them as though sharing a secret. “Christopher is just a boy, a teenager. He’s not the kind of man women like us need. Really, you mustn’t waste your time on a child like him.”

  She was glad to see that her words were succeeding. The made-up faces of Betty and Shirley began to deflate like punctured balloons. Not rich. Not old enough. Olivia decided to sell the idea. “If you were seen out and about with the Worthless Boy—that’s what I call him—you’d be the laughingstock of the entire town.”

  At that condemnation, both of the young women stood up. “Oh. I guess we heard wrong.”

  Trying to control her relief, Olivia also stood. “You should have a word with the gossips who told you those lies. I don’t think they had your best interests in mind.”

  “You can be sure we will,” Shirley said.

  “I think we better go,” Betty said.

  “Yeah, right. Olivia, we’ll see you in town. Maybe.”

  As fast as they could walk in heels on the old brick walkway, they hurried back to their car.

  With a triumphant smile, Olivia turned to look to Nina, expecting congratulations. But what she saw on Nina’s face was an expression of horror. Her skin was pale, as though all the blood had drained from it.

  Please, no, Olivia thought. Don’t let it be what I think it is.

  Slowly, she turned in the direction Nina was looking. Standing just around the corner of the house was Kit, a shirt on over his bathing trunks. In front of him was Uncle Freddy in his wheelchair, his usually smiling face looking sad. He wouldn’t meet Olivia’s eyes. Behind them was