Olivia Greene's Arc

Chapter 3 of 8

Olivia drove back from the greenhouse in the dark, her headlights the only ones on the road. Ryan wanted her there at dawn to start hauling debris. The nearest motel sat two towns over. She'd already made the long trip twice today. She couldn't keep doing it. She needed a place close by, and she needed it tonight. She pulled into town and saw one warm window still lit. The tavern's porch lamps glowed over hanging flower boxes and a faded sign that swung on its hook. She parked and went in. Behind the bar stood a broad man wiping a glass, sleeves rolled to the elbow. Marcus Redwood. He'd known her grandmother longer than Olivia had been alive. He'd bounced her on his knee at this very bar. When he looked up, his hard face softened at once. "Little Greene," he said. He set the glass down. "You look half dead." "I'm working on the greenhouse," she said. "Ryan's helping. But it's an hour each way, and he wants me there at first light. I can't keep driving it." Marcus poured her water without asking. "So don't." He nodded at the ceiling. "There's a room above the bar. Nobody's used it in years. Bed, washbasin, a window that sticks." Her chest tightened. "I can't pay you. Every dollar I earn goes to Ryan." "Did I say pay?" He came around the bar and crossed his arms. "Your grandmother fed me for a whole winter once, when the mill shut down. I never got to clear that debt. Now I can." Olivia's eyes stung. She looked away, at the flower boxes glowing past the window. "Marcus, that was thirty years ago." "Debts don't rot," he said. "Not the real ones." He pulled a key from a hook and pressed it into her palm. "You take the room. You come down for breakfast before you go work for that Donovan boy. And you tell me the second he treats you wrong." She closed her fingers around the key. It was warm from his hand. For the first time since she'd come back, she had a place that was hers. "There's a catch," Marcus added. He wasn't smiling now. "You're painting my sign. I've watched that thing peel for six years. Ryan send you here for that job?" Olivia laughed, tired and sudden. "He did." "Then it's settled twice over." He clapped her shoulder. "Room's yours. Sign's mine. Dawn comes early." She climbed the narrow stairs with the key and her bag. The room smelled of dust and old wood. The bed sagged but held. She lay down in her clothes and set her alarm. She had a bed now, ten minutes from the greenhouse. But she'd taken on one more debt to get it, and her first paying job waited right below her, on a sign she'd have to climb a ladder to reach.