“What a great idea, Elena.” Cat sarcastically clicked her fingers. “Why didn’t I think of that like three months ago?” I gave a sympathetic smile as she dropped her head into her hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to take it out on you. I know you’re only trying to help. And you are helping. Thank you again for taking the girls tonight. Nick and I just need some time to…”
“Screw?”
“As if. We’d have to stop arguing long enough for that to happen. Although angry sex has been strangely satisfying.” She nodded as if deep in thought before her demeanour changed. “But I miss just normal sex and not arguing via text and whatever else married couples do. It’s been so long, I forget.”
“Well, hopefully, tonight will be your lucky night.”
I tried to cheer her up, but I had my doubts. I always looked up to Cat and her relationship with Nick. It was the kind of loving and supportive relationship I wanted with Tom, but he kept falling short. The fact that this conversation was not the first time Cat had divulged their marital problems concerned me greatly, and it was clearly having an emotional toll on her.
“Maybe.” She nodded, but I knew she wasn’t convinced. “And how are things with you?”
“Good. Work has been kind of hectic but in a good way, and things are slowly but surely coming back to me. I now need minimal supervision to find my own files on my desktop.”
“Groundbreaking.” She winked as we clinked our glasses in cheers. “But I was more interested in knowing how things are with Jax?” Her staring intensified as I gulped. I’d dodged one delicate topic already; it was unlikely she would let me off the hook this time. “Quite the interesting position I walked in on last week. We never talked about it.”
I knew she wasn’t going to let that go without an in-depth analysis, and yet I was painfully unprepared, despite my conversation with Kim yesterday. The moment between me and Jax repeated on my mind for reasons I wasn’t entirely sure of, and therefore was most certainly not ready to talk to anyone else about.
“Yeah. It was pretty weird. No more skipping lunch for me, light-headedness is a bitch.” I took another drink as I tried to excuse myself from the conversation. “I should go check on the kids.”
“They’re fine, Elena.” She leaned on the doorway, preventing me from leaving. I couldn’t make eye contact, and my hands were twitching, no doubt making me look guilty as sin. “You’re not uncomfortable talking about Jax, are you?” She raised her glass but didn’t take a sip, studying me over the rim.
“No, of course not. We’re friends.” I shook my head rapidly, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.
“Because the other day, it looked like Jax was in between your legs.” I could feel a blush heating my face. “You two were super close. Almost as if you were about to kiss.”
I tried to keep my cool, but it was impossible. I detested that Jax was causing this strange reaction in me every time I thought of her. Cat’s line of questioning shouldn’t have been causing me to blush. That would only be happening if I liked Jax, which of course, I didn’t. We were friends, good friends. I could think about my friends sometimes, like on my way to work or sometimes late at night, in the shower. Jax was like some kind of plague that caused a fever across my skin, and I wished more than anything that it wasn’t happening, not again. I feared I was falling into the “promiscuous tendencies” that I worked very hard to fix, correct, and rehabilitate years ago.
Cat’s hand on my arm stopped my brain from racing, and her warm eyes connected with mine, calming me. “It’s okay.” A bang came from the living room, causing us both to jump. “What’s going on out there?” she called in her best mum voice, but she held my gaze.
“Nothing,” the three children chimed angelically.
“Nothing, my ass,” Cat muttered as she started walking into the living room to investigate. “You get the ice cream. I will tame the children.” She moved toward the doorway but stopped and looked over her shoulder. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Any time, any place. You know that, Elena.”
“I know.” I smiled in the hope of reassuring her. “Now go, there could be a fire in my living room.”
The breath I was holding slowly released as she disappeared. I pushed my thoughts of Jax deep down where they most definitely belonged and began searching through the cupboards for ice cream bowls.
In the process, I stumbled onto a strange makeshift filing cabinet. A dozen letters, bills, and other paperwork fell onto the counter. I shuffled it all together and shoved it back in the cupboard, afraid of prying into Jax’s privacy, but I spotted something on the floor. An old plane ticket stub. The instant I touched it, I found myself being transported back into a memory.
A long, heavy sigh escaped me as I stared at the airline board in the departure lounge of JKF airport. A long list across two screens of international cities all blinked red with cancelled flights. I wasn’t the only one who was frustrated. Other angry passengers were shouting at various airline employees. I stared at my phone, ignored the countless texts and missed calls from my mother, and dialled the only person who might answer at this hour of the morning. I was disappointed when all I got was her voice mail.
“Hey Cat, it’s me. Again.” I sighed down the phone as I checked the clock. “I was hoping the morning sickness would have you up at three a.m. to keep me company, but it’s cool. I always knew you were selfish. So my delayed flight is now cancelled indefinitely, along with every other flight leaving New York. It’s probably France with another strike.” I stifled another yawn. “Anyway, I don’t need you to collect me from Heathrow, so I will call you tomorrow when I get a flight out of here. Kiss Nick and baby bump good night from me. Okay, bye.” With a heavy sigh, I hung up.
“For once, I don’t think it was France.” The voice startled me, and I looked up to see a woman standing nearby, staring up at the departure board.
“Excuse me?” I asked, looking at my deserted row of seats to see if she might have been speaking to someone else.
“The cancelled flights,” she replied without looking round. Her British accent gave away that she was also likely stranded. “I think the French are innocent, for once. My money is on Iceland. They’re just too nice.” She turned to me and must have caught my puzzled look. “I’m kidding, of course. People from Iceland aren’t even that nice.” My bewilderment and silence caused her to elaborate. “The volcano erupting in Iceland probably had something to do with it. There’s an ash cloud over the Atlantic that everybody is freaking out about.”
I was trying to process her words but was too tired to get far. “What?”
“It’s kinda on every single TV channel…in the world. And the internet too, but I imagine on a BlackBerry, you probably need dial-up to surf the net.”
“Hey, BlackBerrys are cool, okay?” I got to my feet so she was no longer looking down on me. “And ‘surf the net’? What are you, fifty?”
“Sixty actually,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from every word. “But at least I have the wits to tune into the news, considering I’m in a departure lounge full of cancelled flights.” She smiled smugly.
“Whatever.” I dismissed her as I beelined to the desk for a flight update.
Two hours later, I was back in a New York hotel. The volcano story checked out, meaning that all flights to Europe were grounded until the air quality improved. But how long could an ash cloud really last? I looked around the lobby. At 12:30 a.m., I knew I needed something strong to get me to sleep, even though I was exhausted. I headed for the hotel bar.
“Vodka martini, please.”
The bartender walked off to prepare the drink, but as he did, he revealed the only other person there. I let out a heavy, irate sigh when I recognised the girl from the airport, and that was when she looked up at me.
“Well, hey, look who it is. The last person who still uses a BlackBerry.” The smug smile was back.
“What are the freakin’ chances?” I said, wishing I’d left the hotel
to find another bar.
“Probably as slim as an ash cloud cancelling three thousand flights over the next four days.”
“Four days? You’ve got to be kidding me.” I moaned into my hands as my martini arrived.
“She’s probably going to need another one of those. Put it on my tab, Terry.” She got up from her seat and took the stool beside me.
“I prefer to wallow and heavy drink alone, thanks,” I said after knocking back the martini. I turned to look at her as she sipped what looked like a whiskey on the rocks. She looked no older than me, with short dark hair and eyes that playfully watched me over the rim of her glass. Her blue eyes managed to sparkle in the dimly lit bar, causing me to soften. She must have checked in and come straight to the bar, still wearing the professional suit she was wearing at the airport.
“Wasn’t your flight also cancelled?” I asked. “How are you so okay with all of this?”
“This is my fourth.” She swirled the contents of her glass. “So I’m a little drunk right now. I don’t want to think about the fact that I’m missing my dad’s surprise sixtieth birthday party tomorrow.” She shrugged as I took a slow drink of my second martini.
The air turned quiet, and the guilt sank in. “I’m sorry about your dad. And about earlier. I was kind of a bitch.”
“Yeah, but for good reason. I was being a smart-ass.” She smiled before adding, “I’ve just spent the last three days trapped in a boiling hot conference room with a bunch of pretentious doctors.”
“Oh, that’s rough. I think you’re entitled to be annoying as hell, then.”
“Did I mention there were no windows?”
“Okay, now you’re entitled to be annoying and a drunk for the next four days. Or for however long we’re stuck here.” I sighed, running my hand through my hair before coming across a foreign object. I yanked the oversized diamond brooch from my hair before rolling my eyes and tossing it to the side of the bar.
“Rough day?” she asked, watching my small tantrum. “Aside from the whole ash cloud thing?”
“My parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary was in the Fairmont Hotel today,” I said as I recalled the last conversation I had with my mother.
“Sounds posh. And by the look on your face, you had a ton of fun.”
“It was a disaster. My boyfriend was supposed to come too, but we kind of broke up for the second time. She was berating me, as usual. Saying how I should settle down and get married. Guys like Tom don’t grow on trees.” A drawn-out sigh left me as I downed the remainder of my glass and winced as the liquid burnt all the way down my throat. “So I left her stupid party filled with fake morons, called a taxi, and went straight to the airport.”
“Badass.” She smiled as she too finished the contents of her glass before ordering another round. “Sounds like we both couldn’t wait to escape. Strange, most people love New York. Shame I didn’t see more.”
“It was my first time here too, and what a waste it was.” We shared a small smile. “Where are you…” I corrected myself with an eye roll. “Where were you supposed to be flying home to?”
“London. Gatwick, to be exact. You?”
“Heathrow.” She returned my warm smile. “Do you live in London?”
“Yep, near Fulham.”
“I live outside Chelsea. We’re practically neighbours,” I joked, evoking that same warm smile, the one that made her eyes dance. “Listen, do you think we can start over? Seeing as we will probably both be stuck in this hotel, and therefore drinking a lot at this very bar?”
“I’d really like that.”
“I’m Elena.” I reached out my hand, and she took it, revealing a warm and soft touch that caused an electric spark up my arm.
“Jax.”
“You okay, Elena?” Cat peeked around the kitchen door.
“New York,” I whispered as I read the JFK to Gatwick ticket stub with the name Keelin Jax on it.
“What?” she asked, stepping up beside me with concern in her eyes.
“I remember. I mean, not everything, but…” I trailed off as I held up the stub. “I met Jax in New York when my flight was cancelled.” I smiled with relief that I could remember something. Even if it wasn’t completely clear, it was still something. “We were both staying at the Bourbon Hotel. I remember. It was in Midtown, and we were there for almost two weeks. And we went to Central Park and Ellis Island, and oh my God, I remember.” Cat hugged me tightly as my eyes filled with tears.
It felt like a dream, but I recalled our interactions over the course of the two weeks. Filled with laughter and excitement. However, there was also something else. A flirtation which could only be categorised as something more than platonic, and Jax couldn’t be held entirely accountable. During our time in New York, I basked in the attention, and then the wave of fear of disappointing my parents crashed around me. Looking back now, it caused me to rethink my interactions with Jax as of lately. Was history repeating itself?
* * *
Jax
“Sorry, I couldn’t possibly cover for you on the Lord’s day,” Greg said as he typed his surgical notes into the medical tablet, and we walked toward the nurses’ station.
“You’re not even religious. Come on. Please? I need this weekend with my family.” He remained unfazed, prompting me to resort to guilt. “We’ve been through so much.”
“I would if I could, bro. But I’ve got stuff to do.”
“What stuff? You don’t have stuff.” I leaned over the nurses’ station, and Lynsey, the nurse on duty, passed my patient’s chart.
“I do a lot of stuff, if you catch my drift.”
I got the feeling his words were more for Lynsey’s benefit than mine. The air had changed when we’d approached her station, and more importantly, so had Greg. She was beautiful. I couldn’t say I didn’t notice. She was hardworking and smart and for some reason, laughed at Greg’s bad jokes, so maybe she didn’t have the best sense of humour, but he practically fawned over her. Greg’s hair was always combed back perfectly when he knew she would be working, and he’d brought an extra coffee to work this morning, which was now miraculously on Lynsey’s desk.
“I really don’t get paid enough to care about whatever squabble you two are in right now.” Lynsey turned her attention back to the computer as she seductively sipped her coffee, but she was very clearly eavesdropping.
“Jax, I can’t do it, okay? You’re just going to have to find someone else to cover you. I told you, I have plans.” He emphasised the word “plans,” which made me think this was all a front to entice Lynsey. “Maybe I have a hot date and want to have a lazy morning in bed with her,” he said before he side-glanced Lynsey.
Okay, there was definitely something going on between these two. Usually, I would have cared for the details, but my mind was too focused on Elena and my own relationship.
“Yeah, sure, a hot date. Totally realistic,” I said as I started filling in Mrs Andrews’s appendectomy chart. “Seriously, though, I really need you to take my shift this weekend.”
“You don’t know. I could be dating someone. More than one person. I don’t have to tell you everything, you know.”
“You’re not dating anyone because in order to be dating, you actually have to ask a girl out, and we both know that’s impossible.” I smiled smugly as I went back to my notes.
“Well, maybe I’d ask more girls out if my wing woman was there,” he muttered under his breath. I threw him a challenging look over the top of my clipboard. “But I get it. You got your own shit going on.”
“By own shit you mean, helping my roommate remember she’s actually my wife and the mother of my child? Like that kind of shit?”
“Exactly.” He nodded as I rolled my eyes, and Lynsey shook her head disapprovingly.
“Please cover for me,” I begged again as he looked away. I was putting him in an awkward position, and I had already asked for cover last week, but I was desperate. “Please, Greg, I feel like I’m finally getting
somewhere with Elena.” He scratched his beard. “Please.”
“Okay, fine.” He sighed. “But I could have had a date.”
“I know,” I replied but contradicted myself by shaking my head at Lynsey, evoking a giggle she tried to hide.
“I could have!” We both handed our charts back to Lynsey and proceeded toward the emergency room.
“What was that about back there?” I asked once we were out of earshot.
“What was what?”
“Come on, Greg. You can hide from a lot of people but not me. Is there something going on with Lynsey?”
“Pfft, I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Since when?” I asked as we waited for the elevator. “Come on, spill.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” His face changed from joking to serious as his eyes flitted toward mine. “Seriously, she’s not into me like that.”
“She looked pretty into you from where I was standing.” I nudged him as we made it onto the empty elevator, and I pressed the ground floor button. “Why don’t you ask her out?”
“Because she doesn’t date trans guys.” He sighed as he stared at his notes. “I overheard her talking to one of the nurses this morning.”
A silence fell over the elevator, and I could almost hear the disappointment fill the small space. It was not the first time he’d been rejected for being trans. When it came to dating, Greg was always conscious that he was different, and every time something like this happened, it knocked his confidence once again. It used to infuriate and frustrate me no end because he was such an amazing person with the kindest soul, but some people just couldn’t get past how he was born. In the wrong body. I just about managed to get out a quick “I’m sorry” before the elevator doors opened and another doctor joined us for the rest of the ride.
Greg masked his disheartened demeanour with a cool shrug. He was getting increasingly better at seeming as though this kind of rejection didn’t hurt him as much it did.
“Plenty more fish in the sea, right?” He smirked. The response didn’t fool me, but he clearly wanted to move on. “Anyway, what are you planning this weekend that you so desperately need the time off?”
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