Free Thirty Sunsets by Christine Hurley Deriso

up for Shelley? That was … incredible. I thought to myself that very instant, That’s the difference between Forrest and me .”
    I bite my lower lip. “I don’t always stick up for people.” I feel a stab in my stomach, thinking of the times I’ve either halfheartedly defended Olivia or snarkily dissed her myself.
    She smiles. “I just envy that you have friends,” she says. “And your mom.”
    My eyes narrow. “You’ve got a mom too. I met her, remember? At the football game? I thought she was your sister?”
    I feel a pinch in my chest as I remember their laughter as I walked away, incredulous about what an idiot I was.
    “She loved that,” Olivia says in a small, tight voice. “She’s probably told that story a million times: ‘Olivia’s friend thought I was her sister!’ ” Her face crinkles again.
    “Isn’t that a good thing?” I say consolingly, not sure if I should touch her or not. “I mean, isn’t it cute that your mother is so gorgeous, people think you’re sisters?”
    More sniffles. I reach over to the dresser, pluck a tissue from the box, and hand it to Olivia.
    “I wouldn’t mind people thinking I had a sister if I had a mother,” she says bitterly.
    “But … you were laughing too. I remember.”
    Olivia’s dewy eyes stare into space, a mixture of contempt and despair. “I want a real mom. Not some beauty queen who breezes into town a few times a year to try to outshine me.”
    Now I do touch her … tentatively at first, resting my hand on her arm, then squeezing gently. “Does she know you’re pregnant?”
    Olivia nods, still staring into space. “It just gives her more ammunition to tear into my dad. He’s a moron, how could he let this happen, she saw it coming a mile away, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Oh, and the baby’s supposed to call her Aunt Olivia. She doesn’t want anybody knowing she’s a grandmother.”
    The waves are still pumping their gentle heartbeat.
    “Your mom’s name is Olivia too?”
    Her eyes narrow. “I hate it. I hate my stupid name.” Then her gaze suddenly softens. “I’ve tried to get Brian to call me something different. I know it sounds stupid, but something like Liv—some people call me that—or even my initials, OJ … ”
    “Yeah, that’s not gonna work,” I wisecrack, and Olivia giggles.
    “It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Brian says nothing sticks, and besides, he loves my name and he wants me to love it too. He says you have to love all of yourself, even the things you hate, before you can really open your heart to someone else.”
    I wrinkle my nose. “I think he read that on a Hallmark card,” I tease, and I’m relieved when Olivia laughs.
    “But he’s right,” she says wistfully. “If I hate my mom, or my name, or my thighs, or whatever … that just sucks up energy that I should be using to love my life, to love the people in my life. Like my baby.”
    “Deep,” I say, and I actually really mean it. How ridiculous does my guy-on-the-beach story sound now?
    Olivia peers at me and says, “I’m sorry that guy on the beach hurt your feelings.”
    OMG. My skin actually tingles as I wonder if she just somehow read my mind.
    “I’m thinking we should go bikini shopping and make him eat his heart out,” she continues.
    I shrug. “Embarrassingly enough, I actually sorta tried that. The day I borrowed your bikini? Didn’t work. Besides, I’m more of a Speedo kind of girl.”
    But Olivia looks determined. “Bikini shopping. Tomorrow.”
    Whatever expression I have on my face makes her press harder. “Trust me,” she says. “This is my area.”
    “I’m well aware that fabulosity is your area,” I say, and again, I’m relieved when she laughs.
    “You know what pisses me off the most?” I say. “I feel like he stole the beach from me. I haven’t even been able to walk on the friggin’ beach for fear of running into him.”
    “Oh, you’ll do more than walk on the beach,” Olivia says. “You’re