Olivia Greene's Arc

Chapter 10 of 8

The glass would cost more than Olivia had. She sat at the tavern bar the next morning and did the math on a napkin. Every dollar from her sign work was already promised to Ryan. She had nothing left for the panes. Marcus set a mug of coffee in front of her and read her face. Marcus ran this tavern, and he had treated Olivia like a daughter since she came to town. He owed her grandmother an old debt, and he paid it in kindness. He glanced at the napkin, then at her. "You look like a woman short on money," he said. "All my wages go to Ryan." She pushed the napkin away. "I can't buy the glass." Marcus wiped the bar and thought. "I need hands this weekend. Two shifts, waiting tables. Cash, off the books." He nodded toward the empty room. "But two shifts won't cover glass. This place is quiet." Olivia took it anyway. It was more than she had. Ty came in near noon, grease still on his hands from the garage. He heard about the shifts. He stood by the window and looked at the empty tables for a long moment. "I play here weekends," he said. "I'll bring the band. Saturday night. Word gets around. You'll fill every seat." Marcus raised an eyebrow. "More customers, more tips." "And a cover at the door," Ty said. "For her." Olivia stared at him. "You'd do that?" Ty shrugged like it was nothing. But he did not look away from her. Saturday came. The tavern filled by dark. Olivia carried trays until her arms ached. Coins and bills stacked in the jar by the door. The band played loud and the floor stayed packed. Then Ty set down his guitar between songs. The room went quiet. He looked at Olivia across the crowd. "Got a new one," he said into the mic. "Wrote it a while back. Never played it." Olivia froze with a tray in her hands. He started to sing. The song was about a girl with green in her eyes and dirt on her hands, rebuilding something old. About a man who watched her from across a room and said nothing for years. The whole tavern listened. Olivia set the tray down slow. When he finished, the room roared. Ty just looked at her. He had said the thing he had never said. There was no taking it back now. After closing, Marcus counted the jar. He counted it twice. Then he slid the stack across the bar to Olivia. "That's your glass," he said. "Every pane." Olivia held the money and could not speak. She had it. The greenhouse would have its roof. But Ty stood in the doorway with his guitar, waiting, and she knew the song had changed everything between them. She would have to answer it.