Such Great Heights

by Sydney Logan

  Natasha steps back and waves me inside. The house is immaculate, of course. Like a museum. Like my house . . . before Olivia came into our lives.

  “Can I get you a drink?” she offers.

  “No, thank you. I won’t take much of your time.”

  She nods and motions toward the sofa. We sit down as I unsnap my briefcase and pull out the petition. I clear my throat and hand it to her.

  “Last night, you told Olivia that you want to terminate your parental rights. That’s why I’m here. This is a TPR . . . a Termination of Parental Rights form.”

  Natasha takes the petition and skims the page.

  “You certainly move fast, don’t you?”

  “This was your idea, Natasha.”

  “I know, sorry. Do you have a pen?”

  I shake my head. “No. I absolutely insist you have your attorney look it over.”

  “Why? We both know this is the best thing for Ryder.”

  I can’t argue with that. Still, I insist she consult with her attorney before signing it. With a heavy sigh, she begrudgingly agrees. We then talk about the divorce, and how things should move quickly now that she’s no longer contesting it.

  “I just want to be done,” Natasha says. “And I know you do, too.”

  “I do. Thank you.”

  We sit in an uneasy silence for a while, and I watch with fascination as she places her left hand on her flat stomach. I’m not sure if she’s just showing off the rock on her finger or if she’s instinctively protective of her unborn baby. Despite the tension in the room, I smile, remembering how beautiful she was when she was pregnant with Ryder. I also remember the horrible bouts of morning sickness, that somehow turned into afternoon and midnight sickness. Who knew those were the best times of our marriage?

  “How are you, Natasha?”

  She seems surprised by the question.

  “I’m fine, Jackson. Just fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  She sighs heavily. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Listen, Tash—”

  “No, you listen. I’m fine.” She smiles sadly. “You know how I am, Jackson. I’m opinionated and mouthy, and I pout when I don’t get my way.”

  “That doesn’t give him the right to hit you.”

  “David cares for me. He’s teaching me limits. It’s good for me, really.”

  I gaze at her face, trying desperately to see the strong-willed girl I’d known since high school. Where is she?

  “What about your baby, Tash. If you’re not worried about yourself, what about your child?”

  “David would never hurt our child.”

  “He hurts his child every time he hits you. Let me help you, Tash. You can press charges. I can help you find a place to live.”

  Her eyes grow wide with fear. “Are you insane? Why would I do that? I told you . . . it’s my fault when he hits me. He’s always sorry, and I forgive him. I love him, and he loves me.”

  “Love shouldn’t hurt, Tash.”

  “Really? You and I hurt each other for years.”

  “I never hit you.”

  She bows her head.

  “Jackson, you’ve found someone. I’ve found someone. We both have the chance to have something we’ve never had before. Real love with a real family. Don’t you dare mess this up for me!”

  I shake my head. She’s delusional, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to help her, because she doesn’t want my help.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better husband, Tash. I know I neglected you a lot, and I apologize for that.”

  She smiles softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better wife. Or a better mother.”

  “I don’t regret Ryder, though. He’s the best part of both of us. You know that, right?”

  I’m gratified to see tears well in her eyes. Is it real emotion? I want to think so. I just wish she’d been able to show it to him. Maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I made her so miserable that she couldn’t. There’s plenty of blame to go around.

  “Jackson, I am happy that you’ve found Olivia. She loves Ryder. She is everything he needs. And I think she’s everything you need, too. I’m sorry I let jealousy cloud my judgment.” Natasha smiles and pats her tummy before rising to her feet. “I’m going to do better this time. You’ll see.”

  She sounds determined and ready to take on the world. But the bruises on her face are a grim reminder that she, and her baby, are going to have it rough. I can only hope she’ll let me help when that time comes.

  “Let me walk you out,” she says.

  Taking the hint, I follow her to the front door.

  “Thanks for stopping by, Jackson. I’ll get the petition back to you as soon as possible. And I’m sure our lawyers will be in touch with more papers to sign to finalize everything.”

  “Yes, they will.”

  We’ve been at each other’s throats for months, and I’m more than ready to move on. Still, I take a moment to gaze at the mother of my child. My high school sweetheart. The woman who gave me my son.

  It’s almost bittersweet.

  Almost.

  “I really hope you’re happy, Natasha. But please . . . please promise that you’ll call me if you ever need anything. Anything at all.”

  She smiles. “Just take care of Ryder. That’s all I need from you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I surprise us both by leaning in and kissing her forehead.

  “Take care of yourself, Tash.”

  “Goodbye, Jackson.”

  As I drive away from the picture-perfect house, I can’t help but feel a sense of dread. I’m worried about her, and her baby, but Natasha’s made her decision. And I have my own life to live.

  Finally.

  As soon as I climb into my car, I grab my phone and send a text to Marcus.

  Get me divorced. ASAP.

  “This is ridiculous,” I mumble in between bites of toast.

  “Jackson, you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”

  I roll my eyes at Hazel and reach for a glass of juice.

  “What is going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. Why is she avoiding me?”

  Hazel hums as she fills the dishwasher.

  “Hazel, I swear—”

  “I don’t think she’s avoiding you, Jackson. She just took Ryder to school and then she’s going shopping with her friend, Angel. Besides, you saw her last night.”

  “I saw her sleeping last night.”

  “Well, she works very hard, Jackson.”

  I grunt and glare at my beloved housekeeper.

  She’s in on it.

  Whatever it is.

  For the past week, Olivia and I have been like two ships passing in the night. Granted, I’m juggling a tough case that’s required me to spend a lot of time at the office or in court, and I’ve missed dinner every night this week.

  Maybe that’s it . . .

  “Is she mad because I’ve missed dinner? Because I promise I’d rather be here than in court.”

  Hazel shakes her head. “She understands you’re on an important case.”

  “What is it then? Because by the time I get home, she’s asleep. And she’s gone by the time I wake up each morning.”

  “Maybe you need to wake up earlier.”

  Disgusted with myself, I slam back the orange juice like it’s a shot of whiskey.

  Hazel smirks and sits down with me at the kitchen table.

  “Don’t you see?” she asks softly. “Olivia is making you work for it.”

  "Work for what?"

  “Jackson, did you really propose to that girl?”

  See, I knew she was in on it. I can just imagine the girl-talk that transpired after my spontaneous yet honest display of affection. I bet Dana knows, too.

  “Girls.” I huff.

  Hazel grins.

  “I didn’t expect her to say yes. I mean, I hoped, but I’m not insane. I realize we can’t g
et married anytime soon. I was hoping for a long engagement, at the very least.”

  “You might’ve mentioned that . . . before you proposed.”

  “I know.”

  She gazes at me with a smile. “You are one of the brightest men I’ve ever known, but when it comes to love . . . you married your first love. Your first kiss. Your first—”

  “I get it, Hazel.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, Jackson. And it’s not your fault. But you must do better.” Hazel smiles and affectionately pats my hand. “Between Ryder’s tantrums and Natasha’s drama, it’s been one thing after another since the day Olivia moved in. And now, Natasha’s begging Olivia to raise her son, and you’re asking her to marry you. She needs a minute to take it all in. To take a breath.”

  I bow my head.

  “I know you love her, Jackson. She loves you, too. But a girl needs romance. She needs to be . . . wooed.”

  “Wooed?”

  “Look it up.”

  I smirk.

  “I’m serious. Look it up. Because right now, Olivia thinks the only reason you proposed is because you can’t wait to get her in the sack.”

  My eyes widen. “What?”

  “Didn’t Olivia say that nothing could happen between the two of you until you’re divorced?”

  “Well, yes, but . . . are there really no secrets between women?”

  “Not many.”

  Fear grips me. Surely, Olivia doesn’t think that’s why I proposed.

  “Hazel, it’s not like that.”

  “I know.”

  “Does Olivia really believe that?”

  “She didn’t, until she talked to your sister.”

  I clench my fists.

  “Don’t be too upset with Dana. She is all for this.”

  “I’m so glad I have her approval,” I grumble.

  “But she thinks you need to learn the art of romancing a woman, especially this woman. This woman, who’s been more of a mother to your child than his biological mother has ever been. This woman, who has lightened your heart and brought you back to life. Olivia should be worshipped, Jackson. So get to it.”

  With an affectionate pat on my shoulder, Hazel heads to the laundry room, leaving me alone with my misery.

  I bury my head in my hands. Hazel’s right. I know I’m head over heels in love with Olivia, and I’ve told her so. But those are just words. I make my living using words to charm and persuade, but when it comes to love, words just aren’t enough.

  I need to woo.

  And I need help.

  “Seriously, Jackson, what were you thinking?” Dana grabs me by the arm and pulls me toward the flower shop. “A proposal? Really?”

  “Dear sister, I need your help, not an interrogation.”

  “Aren’t you lucky? You’re getting both!”

  “And I don’t appreciate you trying to convince Olivia that the only reason I proposed is because I want to sleep with her.”

  She shrugs. “Just an observation.”

  “And it’s wrong.”

  “Good. Now prove it.”

  I’m not due in court until late afternoon, so I enlisted my sister’s help. I’m regretting it already. I regret it even more when we walk into the flower shop and I’m bombarded with a thousand different fragrances.

  “Why is it so hard to believe that I’m in love?”

  I sneeze.

  Dana shoots me a disapproving look. “I don’t doubt that you love her. I doubt your ability to properly express that love. Women need to be shown how much you care, Jackson. And not in the way that Natasha likes to be shown.”

  Natasha was easy. Give her a big house and a platinum card and she was in heaven. But with Olivia, I have no idea what she likes. I don’t even know her favorite color.

  I really am clueless. Maybe this is why all the women in my life are mad at me.

  “I need Julian!” Dana bellows, and I watch as the young sales associate scampers to the back of the store. Moments later, a tall man with dreadlocks appears at the counter, smiling brightly at my sister.

  “It’s so good to see you, Dana! How may I help you today?”

  “Julian, this is my brother. His name’s Jackson, and he needs to seriously kiss up to the woman he loves. Money is no object. Help him?”

  The florist’s grin becomes unbelievably brighter. Probably because my sister just promised him my credit card.

  “Of course! What’s her name?”

  “Olivia.”

  Julian walks around the corner and takes me by the arm as he steers me through the beautiful flowers. I have no idea what I’m looking for. They all look the same to me. Plus, the combination of fragrances are giving me a headache.

  “Tell me about Olivia while we look around,” Julian says.

  So I do. I tell this complete stranger all about the woman who has stolen my heart. How she’s patient and kind and undeniably lovely, and how she has the most beautiful soul. And then I tell him about Ryder, and how she’s become the mother he’s always deserved.

  And then I tell him about the proposal.

  “But you don’t wine. You don’t dine. You don’t woo.”

  “Help him, Julian,” my sister says as she scrolls through her phone. “Help him woo.”

  Woo.

  How is it you can go your whole life without hearing a particular word, and then you hear it twice in one day, and both times, it’s used to describe what a complete failure you are when it comes to love?

  “We need beautiful flowers for beautiful Olivia,” Julian says. “What’s her favorite flower?”

  “Umm . . .”

  Dana rolls her eyes.

  “A little help?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  My sister smirks and goes back to her phone.

  “Perhaps a rose?” Julian suggests, motioning toward the wide assortment of multi-colored stems. I gently touch the petal of a gorgeous red rose.

  “Don’t you dare go with red. Be creative, for heaven’s sake.”

  I grumble under my breath and follow Julian to a display of yellow roses. Suddenly, I’m reminded of the time Olivia and I took Ryder to that flower shop, and my son learned that flowers come in all different colors. He’d picked a yellow rose for Olivia that day.

  “What about yellow?” I ask.

  Julian shakes his head. “Yellow roses symbolize friendship.”

  “Do you want to be her friend, Jackson?” Dana asks with a smirk.

  Really regret bringing my sister today.

  “Fine. What about purple?” I point to an array of lavender roses.

  “Better.” Dana nods.

  “Ah, the lavender rose,” Julian says. “Did you know the unique beauty of the lavender rose has captured many hearts and imaginations? With their fantastical appearance, lavender roses are a perfect symbol of enchantment. The lavender rose is also traditionally used to express feelings of love at first sight.”

  Love at first sight.

  “Well, that sounds perfect.”

  Dana smiles, a sure sign of her approval.

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “I’ll take a dozen, Julian.”

  “He’ll take three dozen,” Dana quips before grinning at me. “That’s why I’m here.”

  The florist beams as I hand him my credit card. After promising they’ll be delivered today, Julian thanks me and gives me his business card.

  “For when you need my services again,” he says with a grin. “Perhaps your wedding day?”

  I grin like a fool as my sister links her arm through mine and drags me out the door.

  “Well, that was fun,” she said. “I think you owe me a drink.”

  I look down at my watch. “It’s barely lunch time, Dana.”

  “Fine. You owe me lunch.”

  “I wish I could, but I’ve got a deposition this afternoon. Raincheck?”

  “I suppose. You did good, big brother. She’s going
to love the flowers. Now, is everything set for tomorrow night?”

  Tomorrow night. Our surprise first date. Dana helped with that, too.

  “I hope so. Are you sure Olivia likes her music?”

  “Have I steered you wrong yet?”

  “No. It’s just . . . I’m constantly surprised how little I know about this woman I love so much.”

  “My brother and my best friend. If I’d known you’d fall so hard I would’ve introduced you years ago.”

  We’re not really affectionate, but I give her a hug, anyway.

  “I appreciate all your help, Dana. I really do.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t screw it up.”

  With a chuckle, I promise to call her soon before heading to my car. I’ve just buckled my seatbelt when I get a text from Marcus.

  We have an appointment with the judge next Tuesday at 10:00. Ready to sign your divorce papers?

  I grin.

  Next Tuesday.

  Six days.

  The light at the end of that very long tunnel is getting brighter and brighter.

  “So . . . you’re punishing him.”

  “I’m not punishing him, Angel.”

  “Sounds like punishment.”

  With a heavy sigh, I sip my coffee and try to enjoy the view from the patio of Bongo Java. What was supposed to be a relaxing trip to my favorite bookstore and lunch with my friend had turned into an interrogation.

  “How are things with Eric?” I ask, desperate to talk about anything else. “Have I told you how much Ryder loves piano lessons? He’s such a good teacher.”

  “Eric loves him, too, and stop trying to change the subject. What’s going on?”

  Honestly, I have no idea where to start. Do I tell her about the crazy future ex-wife who’s pregnant by her abusive fiancé? Or, do I tell her that, suddenly, I’m a mother. Or, maybe, I should tell her that the man I love proposed to me when he had absolutely no business doing so? And that our best friend—the man’s sister—might’ve mentioned that the only reason he proposed is because he can’t wait to sleep with me?

  But she’s staring at me, expecting an answer, so I spill my guts. By the time I’m finished, she’s dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “Because you’re my friend and . . . well, that’s a lot, Olivia.”