Someone to Call Home (A Short Story)

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Someone to Call Home (A Short Story) Page 2

by Rhonda Bowen


  “You looked like you needed a break.”

  I didn’t resist as he casually took my hand in his.

  “So tell me about New York.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  I couldn’t tell him everything. But I did share what I could. I told him about my job working at a small newspaper, my obsessive compulsive roommate Judy, and her iguana Riot, even about my volunteer work with one of the city’s homeless shelters. I didn’t tell him about Cordelia…or the house in Soho. Or the way I paid the rent when my check from the newspaper didn’t quite cover it. Those things the old Piper would never do and the present Jackson would never understand. I tried to make everything sound exciting, so Jackson wouldn’t see how lonely it all was. But I should have known better.

  “Are you happy?”

  I bit my lip and avoided his eyes.

  “Are you?”

  “No.” he answered simply. I turned suddenly to look at him. As my eyes met his, I saw my own loneliness shadowed in them.

  “I missed you, Piper,” He stepped towards me. “Tell me it’s not just me.”

  My heart thudded in my chest as I realized what he was asking me.

  “It’s not.” I released the breath I must have been holding. “I missed you too.”

  His hand reached up to touch my hair, gently fingering the curls. I knew it must be coated with dust from all the work we had done earlier, but he didn’t seem to care. I felt a little lightheaded with him so close. When he cupped my cheek, my eyes slid closed. As Jackson’s lips touched mine, I was transported back in time to that day before I left - the day when we stepped over the boundary line of friends. The day when his kiss seared my senses and made me rethink all my plans for the future.

  Everything else seemed to stop as I stood at the bottom of the steps kissing Jackson. Breathless euphoria swept over me, followed by a cold bath of guilt that pushed me away from him.

  “Jackson, I’m not the same girl you remember.”

  He stroked my cheek. “I know.”

  “No, you don’t know.” I shook my head and looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “New York changed me. Made me...”

  His lips covered mine once more stopping the protests on the tip of my tongue. And by the time his sultry kisses had worked their power over me, my brain was mush.

  “Life has changed both of us,” his words were warm and gentle against my lips. “But who we are is the same in here.” He placed my palm over his heart and covered it. “This bond that God gave us from when we were kids, that never changed. It’s still here.”

  I wanted to argue with him, to tell him that I had changed too much, but my brain was still recovering from his hypnosis. So, I just nodded.

  “Will you be back tomorrow?” I asked after a long moment.

  He nodded. “Bright and early.”

  He laid another gentle kiss on my lips. Then he walked away and left me more confused than I had ever been in my entire life.

  Chapter 4

  By the time I got into bed that night I had decided that the kiss didn’t mean anything. Jackson and I were just two people caught up in an emotional moment borne from not seeing each other in years. Besides, after tossing and turning all night with that kiss burning my lips, I realized that it could never work with me and Jackson anyway. We lived two separate lives, in two separate worlds. If it came down to it, I would even tell him that. Which was exactly what I told Carrie as we talked early the next morning.

  “We’re just too different, Carrie,” I said as I stared at the ceiling of my old bedroom. “He’s this successful business owner, slash family man, slash man of God and I’m...”

  “A girl who made a few mistakes but turned things around,” Carrie interrupted before I could say something less forgiving. “You have to let go of all this. You went on one job for Cordelia. One. And you were smart enough to not make the same mistake a second time.”

  “Yes, but it was one too many,” I argued. “I am not the sweet innocent Piper from Port Charlotte that he remembers. I’m a hard as nails New York chick.”

  Carrie’s laugh echoed through the phone line as if she was right next door instead of miles away in New York City.

  “I am sorry to break it to you, honey, but you are nowhere near a hard as nails New York chick. You are the sweetest girl I have ever met. That never changed, even with your exposure to Cordelia’s empire. And that’s why I am glad you got out.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. The city has its good points but honestly, I have felt more at home in a day here than I have in 5 years in my New York apartment.”

  Carrie chuckled. “And I am sure that the handsome man dropping kisses on you on your front porch has something to do with it.”

  “Yeah, he has. And he’s just as sweet and kind as I remember.” The smile I had been wearing as I thought of Jackson turned to a frown as the reality of my present life shaded the picture. “If only I were the same. If only I were the same person he remembered. The same person my grandmother remembered. If they knew the truth, they would be so disappointed in me...”

  “Piper, remember when you first came to New York and you tried to get me to go to church with you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. You weren’t having it.”

  “Yes. And you remember why?”

  “Because you said God didn’t have enough burial space for all your skeletons.”

  “And then you told me that once God forgave my past it was gone forever, like it never happened,” Carrie said. “I never forgot that. Never believed it, but also never forgot it.”

  I sigh. “That was a long time ago, Carrie.”

  “So you’re saying it wasn’t true?”

  “No, I’m not saying that...”

  “Then try applying it to yourself,” Carrie said. “Stop carrying around your past like hand luggage at the airport. You made a bad choice. Let it go. God forgave you. And if everything you told me about this Jackson character is true, I think he will too.”

  Carrie’s words were enough to make me acknowledge my neglected relationship with God. Though I knew He had forgiven me in my head, I still felt that I had let Him down and that had kept me away. But the reminder that He had already forgotten my indiscretions reminded me that I needed to let go of them also and hold on to Him. As the sun stole through my bedroom window, I slipped down to my bedside and closed my eyes.

  “I’m sorry for running away, Lord. Lead me back to you. Lead me back to peace. And show me what direction you want my life to go. In the merciful name of Jesus. Amen.”

  I felt lighter as I got up off my knees. But I still wasn’t convinced that Jackson’s affections from the evening before were anything more than a momentary lapse. In fact, by the time I had finished getting dressed for the day, I had convinced myself. Last night was nothing. Even though my lips were still tingling, and I felt my heart jump as Jackson walked up the path, the kisses hadn’t meant anything at all.

  But, he had different plans. Before I could say a word, he walked up the steps and kissed me soundly on the lips. And if the kiss the night before was hot, this one was scorching. How had we managed to stay just friends for so many years?

  “I know what you were planning to say,” he whispered against my lips. “But it wasn’t nothing, and I did feel something, just like you did last night, just like you do right now.”

  I opened and closed my mouth several times, but I was still too breathless from this last kiss to speak. In fact, his hand around my waist was about the only thing that held my trembling frame upright.

  “Piper?” his eyes smiled down at me. “Are you going to say anything?”

  I took a deep breath and somehow found my voice. “We should get started. There’s a lot to do today,” I stepped away from him. It seemed to help clear my head a bit. I took another step back. I saw the frown that creased his features, but I needed to think, and I definitely couldn’t do that with him so close to me.
>
  He nodded without protest, and followed me inside.

  Somehow we managed to finish Grandma’s room and the rest of the house. After a few moments, the awkwardness between us passed, and things were just like the day before. Still, I couldn’t help but notice the tingle that ran through me every time Jackson brushed against me.

  The delivery boy from Patsy’s sent over lunch and we sat in the middle of the living room floor eating burgers and fries.

  “What are we going to do with all this furniture?” I asked as I took a sip of my lemonade and looked around the room. All the odds and ends, books, and small pieces had been boxed up for storage, but the larger furniture pieces still stood in the room like a challenge.

  “You could sell them with the house,” Jackson suggested between bites of his burger. I groaned and fell back on the carpet.

  “Just the thought of selling this house, and having someone else live here is hard enough. I couldn’t bear the thought of having some kid jump up and down on Grandma’s antique sofa with his muddy feet.”

  “Then don’t sell it,” Jackson said. I watched him wipe his mouth with a napkin, and then start on his second burger. If only life were as simple as he made it seem.

  “That’s easy for you to say, Mr. Money-bags.”

  “Look, P’, if the house is that important to you, then keep it. There aren’t many things in life that really find their way into your heart. When you find those things you should hold onto them.”

  I knew Jackson was talking about the house, but somehow his words made me think of how he had found his way into my heart. In the past few days, I had felt things that I thought I would never feel again. All those feelings that I had just chalked up to the exuberance of my teenage years, had somehow resurfaced. Was it possible I could care about someone as much as I cared about Jackson?

  “Life’s not always about what you want to do, Jackson. You have to be practical. Grams raised us to be responsible, to be able to take care of ourselves. Diving headfirst into debt is not being responsible – and that is exactly what keeping this house would do.

  “Besides, its just a house. It won’t bring Grandma back. It won’t make it better.”

  “Maybe not,” Jackson said softly. “But it’s a part of your history. You have so many memories here. It’s a part of you that you will get to pass on to your own children.”

  I hated him for making me think of family, and children, and all those things that seemed so unreachable. I snorted and took a long sip of my lemonade.

  “Yeah. Doesn’t look like I’ll have to worry about that anytime soon.”

  Jackson looked down at the napkin he was using to wipe his hands.

  “So, I guess you’re not dating anyone,” It was more like a statement than a question.

  “No,” I answered reluctantly. I took another sip and watched him over the top of the cup. “You?”

  He looked up at me and smiled a slow smile that heated me to the core. “If last night and this morning hasn’t answered that question, then you really don’t know me as well as you should.”

  How did he always manage to bring the conversation back around to the two of us? I guess we would have to talk about this sooner or later. Since the house was done, it seemed like it was going to be sooner.

  “So what happened between us, that was real for you?” I asked hesitantly.

  “And for you too,” Jackson said knowingly. “We both know it’s always been there.”

  He was right. Again. Why did it seem like he already had this figured out in his head? Couldn’t he see everything I was seeing?

  “It doesn’t matter, Jackson. This – we could never work. Our lives are so different now.” Even I could hear the sadness in my own words. I wished I was wrong but I knew everything I said was the truth.

  “Last night, I asked you if you were happy,” he said. “You never answered me.”

  I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face.

  “I don’t know, Jackson,” I said with a frown. “What does happiness even mean anyway?”

  “You know,” he said in that confident all-knowing way he says everything. “You remember. It’s this place. It’s the peace. Its people who love you like Grams, and your brother, and Patsy, and even crazy old Jeff who bangs his cane against the balcony every time a car passes with a radio on.”

  I laughed, remembering how Jackson and I used to drive by with the radio blaring just to see the wiry old man stomp around on his porch. Without a doubt, he was thinking the same thing too as his laughter joined mine. When his fingers touched my cheek, I couldn’t help but look at him. My laughter died at the sincerity in his eyes.

  “This is where you belong, Piper,” he pulled me closer with his words. “This is our home.”

  When he said the word “our”, I felt my stomach fall into the floor with all the possibilities. The distance between us narrowed. I could almost taste his lips again. A knock at the door shattered the moment.

  “Miss Blake? Are you here?” I hurried to the door where the Realtor waited with a big grin on her face.

  “Good news!” My stomach twisted into knots as I anticipated what she would say.

  “I found you a buyer!”

  Chapter 5

  I wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans as Celia flew threw the details of the buyer’s offer. She was excited that someone had actually offered to pay our asking price for the house – especially since it was pretty old and clearly needed repairs. It didn’t help too that it was located so far out in the middle of nowhere. It was practically a miracle that anyone showed any interest at all. I tried to press her for details on the buyer but she didn’t know anything. She said the offer came anonymously through the buyer’s lawyers. She wasn’t even sure if the interested parties had bothered to view the house.

  “Who knows,” Celia said cheerily. “Maybe they’re planning to tear down the whole thing and build something new.”

  I felt my heart fall into my stomach. I gripped the arm of Grams’ heavy oak framed chair to steady myself. Tear down Grams’ house? I was starting to feel sick. I suddenly wished that Jackson had stayed instead of leaving the moment the Realtor arrived. I could use a friend now. That is if we were even friends anymore. I wasn’t sure we could ever be just friends again.

  I sighed and shook my head. I didn’t have time to think about that. I needed to focus on what Celia was saying about the house.

  “What do you mean no. You don’t want to take the offer?”

  “Huh?” I looked at Celia confused.

  “You just shook your head. Does that mean you don’t want to take this buyer’s offer?” she looked almost distraught at the thought. She was probably already spending her commission.

  “Yes, I mean…no. I need a minute to think.”

  I got up and walked to the kitchen. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to do this. Could I really sell the home that I grew up in?

  I opened the fridge to get some water but hot air and a foul smell hit me instead. I gagged and slammed the door shut, even as the smell lingered in the room. I looked around the back of the fridge. Sure enough the cord was plugged into the wall unit, but for some reason there was no power coming to the fridge. I flicked the oven light on the stove and discovered a similar situation.

  I suddenly realized there was power in the rest of the house, but none in the kitchen. When had that even happened?

  I looked around at the ceiling. My eye caught one corner where naked wires hung down from a hole in the roof. One more thing that was wrong with the house. Add that to the leak in the basement, and the cracks in the parlor wall that the evaluator said might go as far as the foundation, and you had the real reason why I couldn’t keep the house. There was too much work to be done. And I was too broke and too unskilled to do it. I had no choice. I had to let go.

  “I’m sorry, Grams,” I whispered as I took a deep breath and headed back into the living room where Celia nervously played with her nails.

 
“I’ve decided,” I said before she or I could say or think of anything else that might change my mind. “Have the paperwork drawn up. I am going to take the offer.”

  “Excellent!” Celia said. She almost bounced off the sofa.

  “I just have one condition.”

  She froze and looked at me cautiously.

  “I would like to meet the buyer in person.”

  * * *

  At Jackson’s suggestion, we met at the Main Street Steakhouse for dinner. I never told him that I took the offer on the house, but somehow he knew. He didn’t press me for details, however. Instead, we spent the whole evening laughing as Jackson pointed out some of our old school friends who were out that night, and filled me in on what they had been up to since high school.

  “No way! Sheryl Boise married Barry Wicker?” I could barely hold in my laughter. “But he owns a pig farm and she was head cheerleader!”

  “Correction – they own a pig farm,” Jackson said grinning. “And I’ll have you know, there’s no better butcher in town than Mrs. Boise -Wicker.”

  I laughed so hard my sides ached. I had to beg Jackson to stop.

  “Mercy,” I said as I wiped tears from my eyes. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.”

  I smiled at my long-time friend. “Thank you, Jackson.”

  “You’re more than welcome, Piper,” his eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled. I was going to miss him so much. My life in New York seemed like a foggy memory compared to what was happening right at this moment.

  A few minutes later, I let Jackson hold my hand again as we walked back towards Grams’ house. Even though the sale would be finalized in a few days, I still couldn’t wrap my head around this house not belonging to our family anymore. It’s a good thing I was leaving the very same day the keys were handed over. I couldn’t bear to see a stranger living there even for a moment.

  “So you’re leaving in a week, huh?” Jackson rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb.

  “Yup.”

  We were almost home. He waited until we were standing on the porch to speak again. He took both my hands.

  “I have bad news,” his eyes searched mine. “I have to leave tomorrow, to go on a business thing. I wish I could get out of it, but I can’t.”

 

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