She wiggled her brows, managing to get Olivia to crack a smile.
“Dad hates Florida.” Olivia gathered her hair off her neck and swept it up into a bun, securing it with the scrunchie on her wrist. Several wisps of hair fell loose, framing her face. “We have cousins in Kissimmee. Last time we visited, all he did was complain about how hot and humid it was.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “I just wish I knew why he didn’t tell me. I grew up in that house. I still have boxes in my old bedroom, clothes in the closet I didn’t bring with me—all my yearbooks are still on a bookshelf in the hall. I don’t get it.”
Margot hobbled around the bed until she could grab Olivia’s hand. She tangled their fingers together and squeezed, drawing her closer so she could wrap an arm around her waist. Olivia ducked her chin, smiling down at their hands softly, expression subdued but no longer looking like she was on the verge of making herself sick with worry. Progress. “Until you talk to him, I think you’re just spinning your wheels, Liv. You need the whole story.”
She pressed her lips together, throat jerking when she swallowed, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I—I need to talk to Dad.” She huffed through her nose, a little agitated noise punctuated by an eye roll. “He’s the only one who can answer my questions. Until then, it’s all hypothetical and—”
“So you’ll talk to him.” Margot swept her thumb against the back of Olivia’s knuckles, trying to soothe her the best she could. She lifted their joined hands, raising them high enough that she could brush her lips against the side of Olivia’s thumb in a quick kiss. Her chest clenched when Olivia smiled and—God, why had she been fighting this? Caring about Olivia came as easy as breathing. Margot should’ve known resistance was futile, that she’d always wind up here. “You’ll talk to him and he’ll explain and it’ll all make sense.”
Olivia sucked in a shuddering breath. “Or he’ll just tell me not to worry. You heard him on the phone. He’s really good at brushing things under the rug and sounding okay when he’s not.”
Words of reassurance failed her. There were only so many times Margot could say that everything would be all right before the words lost their value. “Just wait and see what he has to say, okay? Take it from there.”
Olivia’s lower lip wobbled before she trapped it between her teeth, blinking fast. “Am I a terrible daughter?” she whispered.
“What the hell, Liv? Why would you think that?” That was absurd. “You’re not. Jesus. If you’re a terrible daughter, I don’t even want to know what that makes me.”
Olivia lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell me something like this.”
Maybe because he knew it would make her worry? “He probably doesn’t want to worry you. That’s the vibe I got from the call in the car.”
Olivia’s teeth scraped her bottom lip. She was going to bleed if she wasn’t careful. “If he doesn’t want me to worry, that means there’s something worth worrying over.”
Margot’s back teeth clacked together. That was not the direction she’d meant to send Liv’s thoughts. That was the opposite of what she wanted, to rekindle Olivia’s concerns. “Just wait until you talk to him, okay?”
Olivia sniffled. “I think—I think I need to talk to him in person. See that he’s actually okay and—it’s harder for him to fib to my face, you know?”
That made sense. Seeing was believing and all that. “Sure.”
“You think?”
Margot nodded. “Totally. You know, I haven’t seen my parents since . . . God, since Christmas. If you want, we can drive down together on Monday. Or Sunday, I guess, if we’re not too tired or hungover.”
Olivia’s fingers slackened around Margot’s, and she stepped back. “I was thinking more along the lines of, I need to talk to him in person now.”
“Now? Liv, that’s . . .” She swallowed hard, the next words out of her mouth about to be ridiculous, and that would’ve been a shitty thing to say even though a part of her did think it was ridiculous. “I think you need to take a deep breath and relax, and we can head down to dinner—”
“There’s no way I can relax until I talk to my dad. I’ll be no fun to be around. I’ll just be worrying, and Annie and Brendon shouldn’t have to put up with—”