Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

also her friend. She had helped Olivia navigate her teen years and had always provided a sympathetic ear when she was at odds with her mother, or there was some boy causing her angst, or she needed help with her wardrobe. Her tendency to embrace a more bizarre and edgy fashion sense had not come until her early twenties when Valerie had all but disappeared from her life. During her now infrequent visits to the country, Olivia often heard the whispers between her parents about Valerie’s obsession with getting Ben to come back, about her selfish and demanding ways, about the attempted suicide, the depression— all of it— and although she had been sorry, she hadn’t reached out to her. Olivia had never been able to understand or accept their criticisms of Valerie because she had never been that way with her. Yet Olivia was involved in her education and trying much too hard to separate herself from family issues, believing at that time that cutting herself off from involvement was the way to show she had reached adulthood. What her actions had shown was that her maturity was still out of reach. What she remembered most was that in Valerie she found what seemed to be a kindred spirit.

She had still been a child when they first met, and for that fact alone she easily attached herself to Valerie. When they were all at the country house Olivia would capture her new sister with requests to come and see this or that—a new rabbit hole in the garden, a chrysalis on the thick stem of a hollyhock, a fashion show of her new dresses for the approaching school year. At meals she would insist on sitting beside Valerie, and if Valerie ate her Brussels sprouts, so would Olivia. She looked forward with great enthusiasm to holidays when she could be with Ben as well as Valerie, whose gifts to her were always perfect. Olivia thought to herself that perhaps it was time to do something for Valerie, just for the sake of how it used to be.

During the time when Olivia had felt so attached to her, Valerie had become more and more sure that Ben’s parents didn’t approve of her— of them as a couple— especially Ben’s mother. It wasn’t true, at least at the beginning, but a basic insecurity clouded her interpretation of their interaction. Just the fact that she was an American had made her feel like an outsider, regardless of how Hugh and Paris had tried to make her feel welcome. Any problems between Ben and Valerie remained well hidden from his parents for a long time, and all seemed well at the holiday table. Olivia’s presence had always softened the discomfort Valerie felt when being at the McKinnon home. She had served as a buffer—in Valerie’s mind anyway. Olivia’s blind worship of her had soothed her ego. And it was true that she and Ben were less likely to show animosity toward each other in the child’s presence. Since the divorce, Valerie had failed to make any close friends. Whatever friends she had were casual—not the kind in whom one could confide. The truth was that Olivia was the only one she considered ‘close.’ She had been a child, but now she was a woman, and to Valerie, Olivia still felt like a kindred spirit and the perfect person with whom to escape reality.

The waiter removed their plates and brought coffee. Olivia had been deep in thought, but finally spoke. “I’m not saying I can get away, but let’s just say I can.” Valerie perked up and listened. “I don’t know if you remember, or were even told any stories about my grandparents.” Valerie shook her head no, and Olivia continued. “They met and fell in love in Spain—Pamplona, actually. If you’re interested, I’ll tell you the story, but not now.”

“I’d like to hear it—I may have just forgotten—but why did you bring that up?”

“Because it’s an idea, and we need one. Let’s go to Spain—if I can get away without losing my job. If you stay away from the cities and the Costa del Sol, it’s not as expensive as France or Italy. I don’t know when high season starts in Spain, at least that far north. Pamplona is in Navarra. If you don’t object to two-star hotels, it should be manageable for the length of time you mentioned.”

“Hmmm … that’s one of the last places I’d have thought of going. In fact, I wouldn’t have thought of it at all. I saw us on the Cote d’Azur, or maybe in northern Italy—maybe Florence again. But Spain has two things going for it—I’ve never been there, and you say it’s less expensive.”

“I’ve been to Florence too, and the Cote d’Azur is probably beyond our—I mean your— means. I always wanted to go to Pamplona because of my grandparents. It’s quite a story, their romance. I’ve always thought it would make a good book—even a film.”

“You’ve piqued my interest. I don’t know what there is to do in Pamplona for a week or more, but maybe there are some side trips to see something interesting. I just know it’s probably hot and that there’s something that happens there every year—but I can’t remember what it is right now.” She told Olivia that lunch was her treat and then motioned to the waiter for the bill. He was more than happy to bring it immediately and they were soon out on the sidewalk and ready to part ways. An expectant smile crossed Valerie’s face and she gave Olivia a hug. Her expression then became serious, and she said, “I feel like running straight to a travel agent—or my computer, but no point in that until you talk to your boss. When can you do that? Will he be in the office this afternoon? Can you tell I’m anxious?”

Olivia shook her head and smiled at Valerie’s enthusiasm then answered, “Yes, I can see that you’re anxious.