The Proverbial Mr. Universe (23 page)

As for Olivia, it was already too late. Nick was in too deep. James Montiano would have to do his worst … Nick wasn’t planning on walking away. He’d stay as long as she wanted him in her life.

“I will be taking the one that resembles my daughter … you may take the time to decide on the amount. My secretary will be in touch.” With a nod James was out the door.

Nick hadn’t realized how long he sat there on the edge of his desk.

Half an hour later Olivia called and canceled their lunch plans. She blamed it on a last-minute meeting at work, but Nick knew better … This had something to do with the gate keeper.

I
t was one thing to cancel her plans with Nick, but it was another to lie to him. Olivia had good reasons. When her father called her, wanting to meet up for lunch, she really couldn’t say no. Not really wanting Nick to tag along, because then she would have to explain her relationship, which at the moment she wasn’t sure of herself.

So a little white lie was much easier.

Growing up, her father was the one who hid her from the world, shielded her from all its brutes and ugliness, and he did it with the greatest ease. Her father had a gentle voice. As far back as she could remember, he never once ever raised his voice to any of his children. Maybe he never needed to because when he spoke for one reason or another, they always listened to what he had to say.

Her relationship with her mother, on the other hand, could be challenging at times … but she didn’t love her mother any less. Her dad just got her and it was an easier relationship. Lately she felt they’d been living in different worlds … partially because she began to see slight changes in him.

“Is everything okay with you?” her father asked from across the table.

“Everything is fine,” she said, not entirely truthful, as she played with the tip of her ponytail.

“I feel like you don’t come and talk to me like you used to,” he said.

He was right. Ever since she broke it off with Dario, she tried to avoid alone time with her dad, for fear of this exact moment. She knew it was just a matter of time before she needed to face the music.

“That’s not true,” she said.

“Do you remember when you were six and we were at Grandpa’s farm and you had discovered this old, rusty, gold bike inside that green barn?”

Her father called it a farm, but technically it hadn’t been a functional since 1977, when her grandparents purchased the seventy-five acres. Her grandfather had intended to grow vegetables for himself and their family. It was a way of life in his old country, a hobby in his new country. She remembered as a child driving over the Mercier Bridge out of Montreal and half an hour of winding country roads. You knew when you were close because you could see the forest green barns from a distance.

She smiled. “Yeah, Daddy, I remember.”

“It was too big for you to ride, you barely touched the pedals, but you were so determined to get on that bike and ride it.”

“I remember you tried to help me ride it that summer. I don’t know how many times we went up and down that dirt road.” She smiled at the fond memories of summer days at her grandparents’ farm.

“Yes, after all, you didn’t need my help to ride that bike. You needed my support, but you wanted your freedom,” he replied.

“By the end of the summer I managed to ride it on my own.”

“Yes, you did. I even bought you a new bike. You didn’t care for it much, though. All you wanted was that rusty, gold bike.” He smiled. “You’ve always been that way, huh Liv?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I loved that bike.” It had been special to her and was one of the few memories she had of her dad. Growing up, he had been busy building his business from the ground up. Olivia didn’t have any resentment toward him for it, she just missed him.

He waved his hand in the air. “Ah, that thing was a piece of junk.” He sighed. “How is it going with selling the apartment?”

“Slow, I had some visits and one offer which Dario refused. I told him I wanted to lower the price, but he doesn’t want to hear it.” She looked up at her father.

“Listen, Dad, do you think you can talk to him for me? He’ll listen to you,” she said.

“I will try, but you know Dario. He’s like you. Very stubborn.”

She wanted to say Dario was nothing like her, but she didn’t.

“What’s the story about this hippy?”

It was all clear to her now, the surprise last minute lunch. She felt her heart pounding in her ribcage.

“Nick is not a hippy, Dad.” Olivia laughed.

She imagined Dario would spare no time to report to her father, but it had always been that way. Every time she did something that her father would disapproved of, he would run to her father and tell him about it. Somehow she felt that she and Dario were always competing for her father’s devotion.

“Nick.” He repeated. “At your apartment?”

Olivia blushed, not wanting her father to think something happened in the biblical sense, because it didn’t.

“I don’t know why he felt the need to tell you. It’s really none of his business.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong by telling me. He still cares for you deeply. I wish you could see that.”

“Dad, I already know what you’re going to say, so let’s just stop right here.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Please, Olivia, don’t tell me you’re dating this … boy?” He cast her a questioning look then said, “It’s none of my business, but what about Dario?”

“What about Dario?”

“I thought you might patch things up.”

Olivia knew her father too well to know when he started his sentence with “it’s none of my business” really meant that “this is my business.”

“There is no hope of us getting back together.”

“I think you know very well it will never go anywhere.”

“Why do you say that?” she replied defensively. “You don’t know him. Nick is a good person.”

“I know right now this boy may seem very heroic in your eyes. He came to your aid and, of course, I am grateful for that, but don’t believe in this daydream. I know what it’s like to be young. I know how it must seem to you. Being an artist is a hobby, not a career, Olivia. How long do you think it will last before you realize he’s not for you?” When she didn’t say anything he added, “In the meantime Dario has been suffering. He’s hoping that you will come to your senses.”

She wished he suffered. She hoped that he was miserable. That would have given her some satisfaction for everything he’d done, but she knew it wasn’t true. As long Dario kept his job, his life would be perfectly fine. If her father knew the truth about Dario, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.

Of course, it was her fault he didn’t.

“And what? Take him back? No, Dad, that’s not possible.”

“No, it wouldn’t be if you have that boy Nick hanging around.”

“Please, Dad, you don’t know the whole story. Believe me, Nick has nothing to do with me and Dario not getting back together.”

“If I don’t know, then tell me … because I can’t understand how you decide to spend the rest of your life with someone and wake up and decide it’s finished. I don’t understand what happened. You would always come to me for advice,” he said.

She opened her mouth then closed it, contemplating telling him the truth that Dario had never treated her well. She wanted to tell him that Nick was a great guy, that if he gave it a chance he would see it too, but all she could say was, “Please, Dad. I am not a little girl. I can take care of myself.”

“You may be not a little girl anymore, but you’re still my little girl,” he replied gently. “He’s not like you, Olivia. He will never fit in.”

“He’s not that different.” She paused. “You’re just saying that because he doesn’t come from money,” she replied in a half whisper.

“Open your eyes, Olivia. Did you ever think about how he makes his living?”

“He’s an artist and works at his brother’s bar.”

“Right, he works at a bar and has a new apartment and a studio. I don’t see how this all adds up. You don’t know what kind of stuff he’s mixed up in.”

“That’s not Nick. Besides, I don’t need anyone to support me. I can support myself.”

He placed his glasses on the table. “You don’t know what you’re doing. There is more than just that, Olivia.”

“Really, like what?”

“Well, my love, you have different background … different traditions.”

“Look, you and Mom had also come from a different financial backgrounds, and you have been married for over forty years.”

“Yes, your mother’s father never did anything for his children. And it had been an issue of many arguments in our household, if you remember. But that was the only thing your mother and I had our differences over. Imagine if we had other things going against us. We never would have survived.”

“Did you ever think maybe you could be wrong about someone?” Her first thought was Dario.

“No, I’ve lived longer then you, Olivia. Unlike you, I have the talent of foreseeing the future. If you go down the path with this boy, Nick, you will only bring heartache … not only to yourself but possibly to Nick.” He paused and played with his glasses. “Have you given a thought to his feelings?”

She remained silent, not sure how to respond her father. He was right. She had been so occupied about her own feelings, it never crossed her mind that perhaps she would be the one to hurt him.

“Nick is just like that rusty old bike, Olivia. It was never for you and eventually you outgrew that damn bike. You will outgrow Nick too,” he said as she shifted in her chair. “Please, listen to me. I know you more than you think. Cross-culture relationships are so much harder than you think.”

She giggled. “Dad, we’re both Canadians.”

“Olivia, what kind of future can he give you? Think about it?”

“What do you mean?” She frowned.

“I think there is a lot he hasn’t told you about, and it’s my job to protect you, my love.”

She looked at him for a moment then said, “He’s just a friend, Dad. That’s all he’s ever been.” Something from the way back of her mind told her she wasn’t really being truthful, at least to herself.

“Okay.” He was finally satisfied with her answer and placed his glasses back on and looked down his newspaper. “I told Dario that you had more sense than that.”

“Dad, please don’t talk to Dario about me or anything that goes on in my life.”

“Why? He still cares for you, Olivia. I don’t know what exactly happened between the two of you, but I wish you would give him another chance.”

Her father continued to talk from across the table, but her mind drifted back to that old, rusty, gold bike. It was in the far back of the big barn, where her grandfather kept two tractors. She had spotted it in the corner. All sorts of things were piled on top of it, so she managed to get her grandfather to retrieve it.

Her father had asked, “What do you want with that pile of junk?”

Her grandfather whispered, “Forget your father. He doesn’t see the true value in things like you and I.” With a wink he cleaned it up the best he could and greased the chain for her. She loved that bike; all its defects had added to it’s charm. Then she realized Nick was like the rusty, old bike for which she’d seen his true value but her father disapproved. Dario was the new, superficial, shiny, pink bike with tassels at the end of the handle bars. She sat there quietly, wondering what the right thing to do was … the right thing for her, or doing what was best for her father. Olivia wasn’t sure which side of the scale was going to tip.