The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

I can see that she has an attitude, but I’m not sure what it’s about, so I’m not quick to judge. “Yeah,” I say. “We can go to—” I was about to suggest the entertainment room downstairs when she cuts me off.

  “Actually, maybe we should go outside,” she says and opens the door before I can answer her.

  “Okay,” I say, my curiosity now through the roof. Clearly, something’s going on, and my heart starts to race when I think it has something to do with Trip. I hope nothing’s wrong with him. Instinctively, I reach for my phone and check for messages.

  Nope. Nothing there. I replace it in the back pocket of my jeans.

  Trisha is ahead of me, and I wave at the boys who’re staring out the window of the truck. They wave back, with their adorable faces pressing against the glass.

  We stand just where we can see them, and I turn my attention to Trisha. “What’s going on?”

  “Jazz, I don’t know exactly how to say this, but you need to leave Trip alone.”

  I knit my eyebrows together because I’m taking offense to her tone and attitude. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” she snarls, and wipes under her nose, like she’s been crying. “When you leave tomorrow, forget about him. Just go back to your life and pretend like none of this happened.”

  “Trisha, I don’t know where you get off, but what happens between me and Trip is none of your business.”

  “It is every bit my business,” she fires back through clenched teeth. “I had a good thing going here. Then you had to come back in to town with your fancy clothes and high heels and ruin everything.”

  “Ruin what, Trisha? What exactly did I ruin? Trip was never yours!”

  “You know what you did,” she says and looks around to check if anyone is listening to us.

  Frankly, I’m getting a little annoyed by the conversation. “Actually, I don’t. I thought you were happy for us— that we were reconnecting.”

  “That was when I thought you’d be leaving. Now he has it in his head that the two of you are going to ride off into the sunset.”

  I laugh, nervously. “Wow. And here I was thinking that you were rooting for us. All the while you’ve been dying to see me go.”

  “Well, what did you expect, huh? That I was going to be happy that you’re back? He’s barely had time for us…for me, since you’ve been here. Hell, around every turn it’s Jazz this and Jazz that.”

  “So, now the truth comes out… You want Trip for yourself!” I sneer and bear down on her, my eyes slowly closing to slits. Her eyes are red, and her nostrils are flaring. “Too bad, Trisha, because he’s mine.” I’m almost enjoying this. She’s been the conniving bitch all along, and now her fangs are out, but she isn’t going to win.

  I turn and walk off, and she grabs my hand. “Jazz! You can’t do this!”

  I shake her off. “Watch me. All along I defended you to people, and now you come at me like this? Like I’m doing you wrong? Trip isn’t your man! Get over it! He doesn’t want you.” I’m getting angrier, and my chest is swelling. That’s my cue that I need to leave before I really lose it and say something hurtful. Or worse.

  “He would, if you weren’t around,” she says, and shifts between legs anxiously.

  I snicker, but I don’t respond. The conversation is over, so I turn around again and walk away. She’s going to have to find another man because Trip is taken. And to think I’ve been holding back all along because I was sympathetic towards her.

  Everything Marcy has told me is true. Trisha is after Trip, and that’s what the problem is. She hates the fact that Trip is into me and not her.

  “He doesn’t belong to you anymore!” She calls after me, and I stop walking.

  I turn around. “He never belonged to me, Trisha. Trip is his own person. He makes his own decisions. I’m not forcing him into anything.”

  Her eyes are red and glossy. She walks over to me. She’s trembling. I pull back slightly and just watch her. She shakes her head back and forth, picking at the skin around her thumbnail. “Just hear me out, okay.” She takes a deep breath, and then looks at me again. “You don’t get it. You left, and I was supposed to leave too. I wanted to be an actress, remember that? But I didn’t get to be. I thought Derrick and I…I thought we’d just go to Los Angeles together. I’d get a good gig, and we’d live like stars…” She laughs amidst the tears that are choking her. “But he wanted to join the Army, too. And then he left…”

  “Trisha, where are you going with this?” I say. I’ve never seen her like this, runny nose, puffy eyes, and pretty much distraught and paranoid. I’m more sympathetic to her now than when she was attacking me earlier though.

  “I got pregnant, Jazz. Derrick’s visiting home on leave and I got pregnant. I didn’t plan on it, but there they were. The next time he’s back it’s a shotgun wedding and then he leaves again. I was going crazy looking after two babies all by myself… And where was Derrick? Off fighting someone else’s war. And I was angry at him. I got angrier,” she says, sniffling, as the tears make their debut. “When he didn’t come back. I thought my life was over. Don’t you see? I don’t know what I would have done without Trip.”

  I sigh. “Trisha, I get all of that, but Trip isn’t yours either. And I’m not doing anything. You think I planned any of this? I didn’t even know he was here when I decided to come for the holidays.”

  She gulps and swallows hard. “Well, how about you just leave and pretend like you didn’t see him?”

  “I can’t do that,” I say.

  Her face tightens, and she stares me down. “Why do you get to have everything, and I get nothing? Huh? Answer me that question.”

  “Trisha, this is going nowhere. I suggest you talk to Trip. This is between you and him.”

  “It was, until you decided to mess everything up for us.” She’s getting angry again. “You’re a city girl, and he’s a small-town boy. Just go!”

  “This conversation is over!” I tell her again and turn to walk away, for the third time.

  “Fine, Jazz!” She hurls at me. “Fine. But remember this—he has a responsibility to me and to the boys. He said so. He promised Derrick before he died. When you think about taking him away from us, just remember how selfish you are. You have everything you want without him in the picture. You’re just being cruel and selfish and I hope you get what you deserve!”

  She stomps back to the truck, and the next sound I hear is her slamming the door, and the truck’s tires burning the asphalt as she drives off in a heated rage.

  I stand outside the door for a couple of minutes thinking about her last words. They weren’t words I hadn’t thought about before. Her anger was justified, and she was right. My life was great, even when I didn’t have Trip in it. Trisha has nothing. It’s just her and a rough life with the boys. If Trip makes things easier for her, I shouldn’t stand in the way of that.

  I take a deep breath and open the door.

  “Who was that?” Mom says as soon as I’m inside.

  “Trisha. She just came to say goodbye.” I say. I hurry past her before she asks any more questions and go back to my room.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and my shoulders drop. I don’t know what to do. I’ve had the worst luck on the dating scene, and Trip…he’s been my dream. These last few weeks have been great, and I now know what my life has been missing all along.

  But how can I just walk away from this?

  On the other hand, how can I be so cruel to another woman? She’s made a life with him, even if not romantically. They have an understanding with each other.

  I’m currently standing in the way of the only happiness she has right now, and my conscience won’t let me continue to get in the middle of that.

  I heave an exasperated sigh and reach for my phone. There aren’t any messages from him, and I’m sort of relieved. I don’t know how to talk to him now, and the hurt begins to build inside of me, until I feel like I’m suffocating.

  I sit there, on the bed, my thou
ghts a jumbled mess, and my heart feeling like it’s being constricted. I wipe away the first trace of tears that sting my eyes and start searching for the airline website.

  There’s nothing else for me to do. I know how much I need him, but if I see him again, I’m going to change my mind. I have to go before he comes over—before he makes me do something awful.

  I wipe away the tears that escape from the corners of my eyes and change the date of my flight to later that evening. Hopefully, I get to leave before I see him. I’m pretty sure he’ll show up because he knows this is my last day, and he’s all about making everything epic and romantic.

  There’s a flight leaving in three hours, which gives me enough time to get to the airport. But I can’t leave without explaining why I have to do what I’m doing. I just hope he’ll understand, even though I can’t fully wrap my brain around all of it. Maybe we can go back to our lives the way they were before I came to town.

  I find a book in the bedside drawer, and I sit on the chair close to the window and start writing:

  Trip,

  You’ll never know how much these last few weeks have meant to me. I had no idea I’d see you when I came to town, but over the last three weeks, it has felt like the best decision I’ve ever made. You filled my days with so much joy and laughter, and I wish I could take it with me. But I can’t. When I came here, you had a life, and I had mine. We didn’t plan for this, and it seemed like fate, but when it comes down to it, some things just aren’t meant to be. We were just having fun, and maybe it’s better for us if we leave it at that.

  I have to leave early, and I’m sorry that I had to say goodbye like this, but I hope you’ll understand. Live your life, and be happy. And I’ll do the same.

  I won’t ever stop loving you, but maybe it’s time that we move on, like we did before. Goodbye, Trip.

  Your Jazz.

  I’m sniffling as I finish writing, and my hands tremble as I fold the piece of paper and write his name on the outside of it. There’s a lot more that I want to say, but that’s about all I can get down without falling apart.

  It doesn’t take me a half an hour to get dressed, and my chest burns as I zip my bags and wheel them to the door.

  “Mom!” I call out to her.

  “Yes, honey,” she says. “Just a minute.”

  I’m standing anxiously by the door, constantly checking my phone, hoping I don’t get caught. What I’m doing feels criminal, but what else can I do?

  Mom’s eyes widen when she sees the bags. “What’s going on here? I thought you were leaving tomorrow.”

  I gulp. “Something came up with work, and I need to be there early tomorrow morning,” I say, without looking her in the eyes.

  She folds her arms. “You’re sure that’s why?”

  “What else could it be?” I say and hand her the paper. “Could you give this to Trip when you see him? I won’t get a chance to say good-bye.”

  Mom’s looking at me like I’m covered in scales, but then she walks away and I turn to check where she’s going. “Mom?”

  She doesn’t answer. She simply returns with an envelope, takes the paper from my hand and slips it inside. “Anything else?”

  “No,” I say.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says. “I assume you need a ride to the airport.”

  “Yeah, please.”

  “And you do know we’re going to drive right by the auto shop…”

  “I know, Mom. But I don’t have the time. My flight leaves in—” I check the time, “in another two and a half hours, or so. And if I stop, he won’t… Anyway, just take me, will you?”

  She grumbles something under her breath and turns to the door. “You’re going to have to explain to your father why you left without telling him goodbye too.”

  “He’ll understand. I had no choice,” I say, and close the door behind me.

  I’m nervous as hell as the car drives down Willow Creek Road. I don’t see Trip’s truck—which is great for me. I’m not sure I won’t tell Mom to pull over so he can change my mind, because that’s exactly what will happen if I see him.

  My heart sinks when the auto shop disappears from view…and one thing is made painfully clear—I can’t come back to Willow Creek. How can I? I can’t be in town knowing that he’s around the corner, or down the street, and not want to see him. We have an undeniable attraction, one that will not keep us apart. Not if we’re that close. It’s going to take miles to keep us apart, and that’s exactly what I’m using to build this wall between us. And this is the wall that I’ll need to get over him again.

  Even now, I’m afraid it won’t work, but I have to make him understand. He has an obligation, and two boys looking up to him to be a father-figure. This isn’t even about Trisha anymore. I can’t deny the twins a father so that I can have one more thing to make me happy.

  I’ll be fine without him.

  “You look miserable,” Mom says, very bluntly.

  “I feel even worse,” I say, and lean my head against the headrest.

  “It isn’t too late to change your mind. You can call him…”

  “It is too late, Mom,” I say and close my eyes. “It’s over between me and Trip.”

  She sighs. “I don’t believe it. And if you think that letter is going to make a difference to him, you’re wrong. You know how stubborn he is.”

  I groan. Listening to her. I know she isn’t wrong, and I know Trip, he’s going to want an explanation. Especially after how we left things last night. I didn’t want to lay everything out in the letter.

  “I’ll explain it so he understands when I get home,” I say.

  She clicks her teeth and continues driving, and for the next twenty minutes, she is the quietest she has ever been my whole life.

  She doesn’t say much when we get to the airport. And, after she hugs and kisses me goodbye, I turn my back on Willow Creek. This chapter of my life is over, I think to myself, as I wheel my luggage into the Nashville airport.

  I’m waiting to check in when my phone starts to ring. I fish it out from my purse and see his name on the screen. My eyes begin to burn again, and I cancel the call without answering.

  I can’t talk to him yet. Not yet. Not when my heart doesn’t even understand what the hell is going on.

  But the phone keeps ringing until I’m forced to turn it off. I slap my hand over my face, as the tears start raining down, while the curious folks around me look on in sympathy.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Trip

  I’m glad when Bubba tells me he’ll finish up at the shop. The pickup would have taken too much time, and I need to see Jazz tonight.

  I have to let her know my plans. I’m feeling truly excited as I head home and freshen up. It’s been a while since I’ve sung in the shower, but my chest is swelling with anticipation and I can’t wait to see her. I haven’t heard from her all day—and I’ve checked my phone plenty of times. I chalk it up to her being busy with getting ready to leave.

  Well, not if I have anything to say about it…

  I get ready and hurry over to her house. I’m actually rubbing my palms together like I’m getting ready to—well…to do something. It’s like my adrenaline is kicking in. I take a calming breath and press the doorbell.

  Mrs. Taylor opens the door, but she has this strange, worried look on her face. “Hi, Trip.” She holds the door back. “Come in.”

  Something’s not right. I don’t see Jazz, and I don’t hear her calling for her.

  “Is Jazz in her room?” I say and look around. “Mrs. Taylor?”

  She sighs and hands me an envelope. This isn’t a good sign, and my heart pounds inside my chest as I turn it over and see my name written on the outside. It’s Jazz’s handwriting.

  “What is this?” I say, and knit my eyebrows together.

  Mrs. Taylor sighs. “Jazz isn’t here. She left that for you.”

  “What do you mean she left this for me? She left?”

&nbs
p; Mrs. Taylor shakes her head, but she doesn’t say anything else. She’s eyeing me suspiciously, but I have the feeling I don’t want an audience when I read this letter. I tap it against my palm anxiously. My heart begins to feel heavy in my chest and I haven’t even read it yet.

  I glance up at her and give her a half smile. “I took her to the airport two hours ago. She should be gone by now.”

  I stare at the wall, and my hands fall to my sides. “Thanks, Mrs. Taylor,” I manage to say and walk back to the door, the paper clinging to my fingers, like it refuses to slip away.

  I turn the letter over in my hands several times before I finally open it. I’m not breathing when I start reading, and my chest feels completely hollow when I’m through. I feel like someone has reached inside me and torn my heart out. I turn it over. That can’t be it. There has to be more. What the hell does she mean she doesn’t think we’re meant to be together? This wasn’t just fun for me, and, no, I don’t fucking understand!

  I read it again, but it still doesn’t make any sense. She’s going to have to give me something more than this. My breathing quickens and I feel rage setting in. I feel like I want to put my fist through a brick wall right now to take away this pain, but…I won’t cause a scene in front of the Taylors’. I reach for my phone and try calling her, but the calls go unanswered. The first two cut after a few rings and then they go straight to voicemail. I get back in my truck and I’m clenching my jaw all through the drive home. The house feels different, or maybe it’s just my mood.

  I dial her number again. “Come on, Jazz. Pick up,” I say, impatiently, while I pace the room…my eyes peeled at the screen in anticipation of a reply. Still no answer. The phone is definitely off.

  “Damn it!” I’m about to hurl the phone through the television when I catch myself in the middle of my wind up…and then toss it onto the sofa instead. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask the room instead. This isn’t it. What happened between last night and this morning? Today? What made you change your mind about us? I was sure she was all in—she pretty much told me that.