thought.
Meet people . . . like, for instance, Jason?
“Like Jason,” Dolly said. “He’s such a sweet guy. You’re so lucky to have him for a brother.”
Jason? The one who calls me Olive Oyl in public?
“I try to tell myself that same thing,” Olivia said.
Okay, that was lame.
“I really enjoy working on cars with Jason,” Dolly said with a wistful smile. “He is so good with metal, and with engines, and just about anything. And he’s easy to talk to. The only problem is . . . well, I don’t think Jason likes me as more than a friend.”
That’s because Jason is dense and also an idiot.
“It hasn’t been that long since my brother broke up with his girlfriend,” Olivia said. “They were high school sweethearts. Things didn’t end well, so he’s taking his time. My advice, for what it’s worth, is that you simply go on with the metalworking and car repair thing for a while. Let Jason get to know you.”
Dolly’s lovely face lit up. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. I will!”
Olivia took clean cups and two small plates from thedishwasher. She put a cookie on each plate, half-filled the cups with coffee, and delivered everything to the table. “Help yourself to cream and sugar.” Olivia pointed toward the kitchen counter. While Dolly added both to her cup, Olivia said, “You mentioned earlier that it was a young girl who bought your silver heart necklace?”
“Oh, yes, she looked like she was in her early teens. I can describe her for you.” Dolly sat beside Olivia at the kitchen worktable. “In fact, I could draw her for you, if you have some paper and a pencil.”
“Even better.” Olivia scrounged through the drawer of the little desk where she usually sat while she reconciled the day’s receipts. She found a blue pen and an old sheet of notepaper that was wrinkled but unused. “This is all I could come up with on short notice.” Olivia delivered the items to the kitchen table. “We do so much on the computer these days.”
“I know it’s old-fashioned,” Dolly said, “but I love to write and draw by hand. I guess I’m an artist at heart.” She drew an oval on the paper and began filling in two eyes. “Jason is very artistic, too, don’t you think?”
“Uh, well . . .” Olivia noticed that Dolly kept her fingernails short, which made her seem less inhumanly perfect.
Dolly centered a pert little nose on the emerging face, then shaded in cheekbones. “I watch Jason as he works on that wonderful 1957 Ford Fairlane he’s been restoring. He wants every detail to be perfect.”
Olivia didn’t respond, hoping Dolly would be too absorbed in her drawing to notice her silence. Artistic was about the last word that came to Olivia’s mind when she thought about how to describe Jason. Obsessive, maybe . . . especially about that vintage car Struts had bought for a song and given to him to restore. Not that Olivia didn’t love her brother . . . she certainly did, although often in a barely tolerant sisterly sort of way. Occasionally, Jason surprised her and behaved as if he might become a mature adult. It didn’t last long.
Dolly’s quick, sure strokes began to form a recognizableface. Even though the drawing presented a younger girl with shorter hair, the features belonged to Alicia Vayle. “Her hair was wavy and sort of reddish brown, and her eyes were light brown,” Dolly said. “Does that help?”
“Wow,” Olivia said. “You’ve got an amazing visual memory. Yes, this helps a lot. Did this girl talk to you at all?”
Dolly wrinkled her nose, a fetching version of a grimace. “I’m not so good at remembering words. When I was in school, I forgot most of what I read as soon as I finished reading it. Sometimes I drew little pictures in the margins to help myself remember the important stuff for tests.”
“I remember Jason doing the same thing,” Olivia said.
“I know,” Dolly said. “That’s one of the reasons I liked him right away. We
Meet people . . . like, for instance, Jason?
“Like Jason,” Dolly said. “He’s such a sweet guy. You’re so lucky to have him for a brother.”
Jason? The one who calls me Olive Oyl in public?
“I try to tell myself that same thing,” Olivia said.
Okay, that was lame.
“I really enjoy working on cars with Jason,” Dolly said with a wistful smile. “He is so good with metal, and with engines, and just about anything. And he’s easy to talk to. The only problem is . . . well, I don’t think Jason likes me as more than a friend.”
That’s because Jason is dense and also an idiot.
“It hasn’t been that long since my brother broke up with his girlfriend,” Olivia said. “They were high school sweethearts. Things didn’t end well, so he’s taking his time. My advice, for what it’s worth, is that you simply go on with the metalworking and car repair thing for a while. Let Jason get to know you.”
Dolly’s lovely face lit up. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. I will!”
Olivia took clean cups and two small plates from thedishwasher. She put a cookie on each plate, half-filled the cups with coffee, and delivered everything to the table. “Help yourself to cream and sugar.” Olivia pointed toward the kitchen counter. While Dolly added both to her cup, Olivia said, “You mentioned earlier that it was a young girl who bought your silver heart necklace?”
“Oh, yes, she looked like she was in her early teens. I can describe her for you.” Dolly sat beside Olivia at the kitchen worktable. “In fact, I could draw her for you, if you have some paper and a pencil.”
“Even better.” Olivia scrounged through the drawer of the little desk where she usually sat while she reconciled the day’s receipts. She found a blue pen and an old sheet of notepaper that was wrinkled but unused. “This is all I could come up with on short notice.” Olivia delivered the items to the kitchen table. “We do so much on the computer these days.”
“I know it’s old-fashioned,” Dolly said, “but I love to write and draw by hand. I guess I’m an artist at heart.” She drew an oval on the paper and began filling in two eyes. “Jason is very artistic, too, don’t you think?”
“Uh, well . . .” Olivia noticed that Dolly kept her fingernails short, which made her seem less inhumanly perfect.
Dolly centered a pert little nose on the emerging face, then shaded in cheekbones. “I watch Jason as he works on that wonderful 1957 Ford Fairlane he’s been restoring. He wants every detail to be perfect.”
Olivia didn’t respond, hoping Dolly would be too absorbed in her drawing to notice her silence. Artistic was about the last word that came to Olivia’s mind when she thought about how to describe Jason. Obsessive, maybe . . . especially about that vintage car Struts had bought for a song and given to him to restore. Not that Olivia didn’t love her brother . . . she certainly did, although often in a barely tolerant sisterly sort of way. Occasionally, Jason surprised her and behaved as if he might become a mature adult. It didn’t last long.
Dolly’s quick, sure strokes began to form a recognizableface. Even though the drawing presented a younger girl with shorter hair, the features belonged to Alicia Vayle. “Her hair was wavy and sort of reddish brown, and her eyes were light brown,” Dolly said. “Does that help?”
“Wow,” Olivia said. “You’ve got an amazing visual memory. Yes, this helps a lot. Did this girl talk to you at all?”
Dolly wrinkled her nose, a fetching version of a grimace. “I’m not so good at remembering words. When I was in school, I forgot most of what I read as soon as I finished reading it. Sometimes I drew little pictures in the margins to help myself remember the important stuff for tests.”
“I remember Jason doing the same thing,” Olivia said.
“I know,” Dolly said. “That’s one of the reasons I liked him right away. We
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