Like You Mean It

by Jillian Liota

  That’s what I want. To love someone with every bone and cell and atom in my body. With every part of my mind and heart. Like I fucking mean it.

  But the real question is how to move forward from here. Will I feel that way about Jess if I give it time? Or should I let us both have a chance at finding something better?

  And if I do that, is it me trying to find greener grass when I would have been happy where I am? Or is it me trying to find love like what my parents have.

  I let out a sigh and watch as the sun finishes that last dip behind the trees.

  Tomorrow will definitely be a new dawn. I’m just not so sure what that will mean for me.

  «««« »»»»

  That night, I keep replaying things over and over in my mind as I sit in the living room watching a movie on TV with Callie and Ted. I feel like I’m going crazy as I try to sort through the pieces of my life, the pieces of my heart, that are keeping my mind moving at a million miles an hour.

  “Are you even watching the movie?”

  Callie’s voice rips me from my thoughts and I look over to where she’s snuggled in next to Ted, who’s passed out on the long part of my L-shaped couch.

  I shake my head at her. “I’m sorry, Cal. I’m just… I have a lot on my mind.”

  She gives me a sympathetic look. She was around earlier when Jess stormed out and I followed, and then likely saw that Jess left instead of sticking around. But I haven’t talked with anyone about what actually happened or where Jess and I go from here.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  I’m fully prepared to say no, to tell Callie that I’m fine and just get back to the movie. Or at least pretend I’m watching it.

  But then I remember what I told Annie a few weeks ago. The good thing about talking to someone else is that you have someone to help carry the burden that worry puts on your shoulders.

  “Well,” I clear my throat. “Things with Jess are strained. We’ve been snippy and argumentative for… well, probably for about 6 months now. And it has only gotten worse since Annie moved in next door.”

  I pause, unsure how to continue.

  “Does Jess have a reason to be upset about Annie?”

  When I look at Callie, I see her glaring at me, one eyebrow raised.

  “I haven’t cheated on her, if that’s what you mean. I’d never do that.” I sigh. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge how much I’ve… come to care for Annie. And her son Jones. It really bothers Jess and I don’t blame her.”

  “So you’re into two women?”

  She says it so bluntly it actually hurts my heart.

  For Jess.

  Because I’m not into two women.

  Just one.

  And it isn’t her.

  Part of me wants to blame Jess for that. And there’s plenty of shit I could use to make my point. She’s been a bitch to Annie. She’s been bitter and resentful towards me. She’s pushed for things I’m not ready for and tried to manipulate things in ways that are cruel and kind of twisted. I flat out don’t like the Jess that has been coming around for the past few months. At all.

  But if I’m completely honest, I can’t blame Jess. And I can’t blame Annie either. I’m a fucking 34-year-old man, and I shouldn’t be blaming anyone for anything. I pushed my way into Annie’s life, and Jones’. I barreled in and made myself a mainstay without her complete consent, and that is absolutely my own fault.

  Were things with Jess perfect before Annie showed up? No. Jess was hinting at moving in and I was completely turned off by that idea. She was bringing up hanging out with that Tom guy from work, and using it to try and manipulate me into doing what she wanted.

  But those things could have been solved with a little communication. Which I seem to be just fine at with Annie – talking about feelings, apologizing, sharing about life – but which seems to be more like swallowing a really big pill with Jess. It just doesn’t sit right.

  I run my fingers through my hair and look back at Callie.

  “I’m not into two women.”

  Callie gives me a sympathetic look.

  “Well then. It sounds like you don’t need my advice on this. Do you?”

  «««« »»»»

  I’m getting out of the shower when I hear it. Splashing in the pool. At first, I wonder if it’s raining. Then I think maybe Callie got up early for a swim. I almost brush it off and keep getting ready. I’m already running late, but I finish toweling off and wrap the towel around my waist, wandering out to the kitchen to peer out into the backyard.

  And what I see has me sprinting through the sliding door, practically ripping it off the track as I shove it aside.

  “Jones!” I scream. “Jones!”

  I’m in the water before I can take another breath. Another thought. My only concern is getting to the little body that is flailing around and struggling to keep above the surface. To the wide eyes that look at me in fear and desperation.

  I grip him by the shirt and rip him out of the water, nearly throwing him onto the grass around the back perimeter. I launch myself out behind him, scrambling up and over him, holding him on his side and giving firm swats to his back as he coughs up water and tries to catch his breath.

  “Oh my god!” I hear from behind me, but I don’t even take a look at Annie, focusing instead on the little man in front of me, his lips an off color, but his eyes open and focused on me.

  “He’s okay,” I call to her, rubbing his back as he continues to cough.

  She drops to her knees next to me, her hands reaching for him, his face, pushing the hair on his head out of the way, looking him in the eyes.

  “Oh my god,” she says, her voice a mixture of relief and despair, whispering out between sobs. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t find him. I didn’t know where…” But she trails off and lets out a heart-wrenching sob.

  “Jones?” I say, trying to stay focused. “Jones, look at me.” His little eyes look away from his mom and back at me. “Can you say something to me? What’s my name?” He just stares at me as he takes huge gasping breaths. “Does your chest hurt?” I ask. When he nods, I pick him up off the ground and cradle him against my chest.

  “What are you doing?” Annie asks, her voice panicked.

  “He could have dry drowning. We need to get him to a hospital so they can check his lungs.” I place him in her arms then take off back towards my house and into my bedroom.

  I just realized I was naked, and going to the hospital without clothes on is probably frowned upon, even if not unheard of.

  “What?!” Her shriek stops me in my tracks.

  I turn to look at her where she stands, her face ghost white and etched with terror, Jones cradled snuggly against her.

  “Annie,” I say, taking a step towards her. “He’s going to be fine. But we need to get him to the hospital so a doctor can make sure.”

  She continues to stand frozen, but her eyes slide to Jones in her arms. He’s stopped coughing and looks really tired. We need to get him there quickly.

  “Can you get him loaded in your car? I’m gonna throw on some pants be ten seconds behind you.”

  She nods at me then turns and heads towards the front door.

  After throwing on the first pair of pants and shirt I can find, I sprint out of the house and over to where Annie is buckling Jones into his car seat.

  “Gimme your keys. I’m driving.”

  I know my tone is bossy and gruff, but Annie is too shell-shocked to be safe behind the wheel. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to care, throwing her keys at me and climbing into the back next to Jones.

  I make quick work of getting us to the hospital, thankful that we only live two miles from an Emergency Room. I pull straight into the ambulance bay and tell Annie I’m gonna go inside and get help.

  The double doors open for me and I shout at the woman behind the desk.

  “I need immediate help. Possible dry drowning.”

  Two people run out past me and then come back i
n with Jones a few seconds later, Annie moving as fast as she can at their heels.

  “Where are they taking him?” she cries out to me as the doctors or nurses or whoever they are – you can never really tell in a crisis since they all look to be wearing the same thing – place Jones on a gurney and go barreling through a set of double doors that close behind them.

  She breaks down into tears, and I walk towards her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. Her hands come up and grip my back, holding snug and tight, her face pressing into my chest.

  “He is going to be just fine,” I say to her, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of her head. “They’re just probably going to take some X-rays and make sure his lungs are clear of water. They just have to do it quickly.”

  I don’t know that for sure, but it seems the most likely, along with a good thing to say to a terrified mom. Hell, I’m terrified too. But my priority right now, now that Jones is with people who can check him out, is reassuring Annie. Because this girl doesn’t need to go through any more trauma.

  Her sobs begin to subside as I rock her, standing in the middle of the ER, with people moving around us.

  “He’s going to be fine,” I whisper into her ear, leaning my cheek against her head, breathing in her subtle perfume. Just holding her like this is reassuring me too.

  She gives me a squeeze, then takes a step back, out of my arms. And oh do they feel the loss of her. It’s startling, really, but I push that thought back. We have more important things to focus on.

  “Ma’am.” We turn and see the woman behind the desk waving to us. “Can you come fill out some paperwork?”

  I can’t help it, but I let out a laugh. Annie glances up at me questioningly, and I just shrug. “It’s like, the absolute last thing any person bringing someone into the ER wants to do, and it’s always the first thing they make you do.”

  She gives me a small smile, which makes me feel like she’s going to be okay, then turns and walks over to reception.

  And as I watch her walk away, I feel the bottom of my stomach drop to my feet.

  If I had slapped my alarm and gone back to sleep. If I had taken any longer in the shower. If I had assumed it was Callie or Ted in the pool and just continued getting ready. If I had moved any fucking slower.

  Jones could be dead right now.

  I reach out and brace myself against the nearest wall as the room shifts focus.

  I was in sprint mode. Reacting only to the necessity presented to me. From the house to the pool to the car to the hospital. It’s like coming to the end of a race and looking back only to realize that the road behind you was catching fire, that you were literally running for your life.

  And that’s when I make the heart busting realization that that’s exactly what I was doing. I was sprinting for my life.

  When Jones and Annie became that for me, I have no idea.

  «««« »»»»

  Two hours later, we are seated in a hospital room with the kid, who has all of his color back and is bouncing around like he was given an adrenaline shot.

  “I know I should be telling him to behave, but I feel so thankful he’s okay that I’d probably let him go to Disneyland today if he brought it up again.”

  Annie’s sweet voice has me looking at her profile. She’s sitting just a few inches from me on a chair next to Jones’ bed, my chair placed right next to hers.

  I’ve been trying not to look at her too much, afraid she’ll see that something shifted. Because it did. It’s like the world tilted and now I’m seeing everything through a new lens. But from this vantage point, all I can see are Annie and Jones.

  “He’s been bringing it up since the day he found out we were moving to California. I told him we’d go soon, but I kept putting it off for some reason.”

  “It’s because of Andrew.”

  My voice slices through the room, and Annie looks at me, clearly startled. It’s the first thing I’ve said since we sat down in here over an hour ago.

  “You wish he could have gone with his dad and you, and now he can’t. So you hold off trying to figure out how to give him the right experience with his family, when really, he only needs you to be happy. Maybe Mimi. Would it have been better if Andrew could be around to experience all of these firsts with him? Absolutely.” I look at Jones, who is coloring happily on the hospital bed tray. “But he’s going to have a lot of firsts in life, plenty of which won’t involve you. So make sure you don’t miss out on them as they’re happening just because you have some idea about what they should be like. If you focus too hard on how something should be, you miss out on what it could be.”

  When I glance over at her again, her face is inches from mine, her eyes full of tears.

  “How does a mechanic who looks like Charlie Hunnam’s half-brother get so philosophical?” she asks.

  Even though her question is innocent, it still burns a little bit. I’ve been stereotyped as kind of a dummy my whole life because of my interest in cars and motorcycles, and my background in fighting. People assume a whole lot about you when you tick a few boxes that are considered low class. No one cares that I bought and grew a struggling business, or that I’ve managed to create a really healthy living for myself. That I bought a house in my twenties when we live in a world now where most people will rent their entire lives. If I didn’t go to college, I must not have the smarts to really make it in life at anything respectable.

  All they see are my dirty hands.

  I think I always assumed Annie didn’t see it that way. But maybe I was wrong.

  I try to mask it, but something must show on my face because Annie chokes a little bit on her own words.

  “Shit, Cole, I’m so sorry. That… I didn’t mean it like…” And then she just stops and sets her face in her hands. “I think you’re amazing, Cole. I just fell back on the whole hot guys don’t have to work as hard thing that you learn about in high school, and that isn’t fair to you.” She pulls her face up and glances over at me. “Seriously. I’m so sorry.”

  I give her a little grin, then wrap my arm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t worry about it, kid. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.”

  She only shakes her head and stares at me. “But that’s not fair! And I don’t want to add to it!”

  My smile just grows and I tug her in tighter.

  “Life isn’t fair. You know that for yourself.”

  She rolls her eyes but relents just slightly, relaxing into my embrace for just a moment. But then her whole body stiffens and she shoots out of her chair.

  “Jones, do you want me to read to you?” she asks. The kid nods and settles back into the hospital bed where he’s been hopping around like a frog.

  Annie pulls out a copy of Harry Potter from her purse and sets it on the bed, then crawls under the blanket with Jones, her pregnant tummy getting in her way.

  “You just carry that thing around with you everywhere?” I ask, picking the book up off the bed and flipping it over to scan the back.

  “Duh,” she replies. “You never know when you’ll have free time during the day to read. You should always keep a book handy.”

  I laugh and sit back in my chair to listen as she begins reading to Jones.

  Sometimes, when she rolls her eyes at me or she uses words like duh, I feel like there is a pretty big age gap between us. She’s, what, 24? 25, maybe? I’m turning 35 soon. There’s quite a number of years between us.

  But then I see her snuggled on that hospital bed, a book in one hand, her free arm wrapped around her kid, and I see what I want in the future.

  I think the only part of it that really scares me is it isn’t that I want something like that. It’s that I want exactly that. Annie and Jones and whoever that little guppy baby becomes.

  And that’s when my stomach swoops again, a feeling I initially thought was panic. Panic or anxiety or stress or fear.

  I’m certain now that what gripped my soul as I stood braced again
st a wall in the ER entrance was not panic, but desire. Not lust, but longing. It’s like my radar has been searching for 34 years and finally found the right frequency.

  People say when you know, you know. And I always thought that was bullshit.

  But looking at Annie and Jones, tucked in together, whispering and reading and smiling with silly little faces, I know.

  Without a word to either of them, I stand up and walk out of the room, down the hall, and out to the parking lot, flicking off a text to Annie as I go.

  Cole: Sorry to leave so abruptly. Will explain later.

  Then I put the phone to my ear and make a call.

  «««« »»»»

  Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into my driveway when Jess finally calls me back.

  “Hey, Jessie.”

  “Hey. I’m just on my way back to your house. I think we need to talk. Where are you?” Her voice is pretty high pitched, which means one of two things. Either she’s nervous or she’s hiding something. Or both.

  “I’m just walking in the front door at the house. I thought you were going to your mom’s?”

  I chuck my keys on the counter and take a seat on one of the bar stools.

  “I am. Or, I was. But… well I’ll talk to you when I get there. Should be there in a few.” There’s a pause. “Is everything okay? You sound like you’ve had a shitty day.”

  My eyes mist up as I remember seeing Jones struggling in my pool.

  “Yeah, uhm… Jones fell into the pool and was drowning. I just got back from the hospital.”

  She gasps. “Oh my god! Is he okay?”

  I nod, then realize she can’t see me. “Yeah. He’s fine.”

  “Well, that’s good. I’m so glad. I’ll be home in a few minutes and we can talk about it.”

  I don’t like how she says she’ll be home. I know I’m a dick. I know I’ve allowed her to have space here and basically put rules in place that dictate our relationship would only happen in my home, but it’s still mine. Not her’s.