Like You Mean It

by Jillian Liota

  I shake my head, though, knowing he didn’t mean anything nasty by it.

  “No, Cole, it’s okay. You’re assumption is right. He didn’t treat us well.” I watch the cheese melt a bit more, then flip the sandwich. “We met in high school. I was enamored and followed him to college, not realizing that the two years gap meant he’d been enjoying himself without me. He was pretty verbally abusive, but I’d gotten pregnant so I stayed, hoping things would get better.”

  “And they didn’t.”

  I shake my head at his conclusion. “They didn’t. He was doing drugs and selling to college students and cheating with the handful of fake friends I had and the women in his office. He made us feel like we were a burden that had ruined his life. And then he got drunk and high and fell overboard in Lake Michigan and drowned.”

  “Oh my god,” Cole says. “I’m so sorry. He may have been a shit person, but still.”

  I nod. “Yeah, it was pretty devastating. Especially when his parents gave me and my bastard child a deadline to get out of the house before they sold it. They wanted nothing to do with us. Said I’d not be getting any financial support and they’d take me to court until I had nothing left if I tried to get anything from them.” I shrug, remembering how horrible Sydney and Pierce had been. “I think they blamed me for his death. I take responsibility for way too much when it comes to our relationship, but that was firmly his own fault. Even if I sound like a bitch to say it. I have no more room to carry anymore weight around on my shoulders.”

  “Fuck. Annie, I can’t imagine.”

  “Yeah well… I guess I’m still sorting through some of it, you know?”

  There’s a silence that hangs between us as I finish up Jones’ sandwich, almost to the point where I can feel him talking to himself in his head before he speaks out loud.

  I hear him take a deep breath, and glance over, seeing his mouth open to speak. But before he can say anything, Jones pops into the kitchen.

  “Is it ready?” he asks.

  “Almost,” I say, flipping it. “Two more minutes. Go put some clothes on and then you can eat.”

  He lets out an exhausted sigh, as if I’ve asked him to do the most unreasonable task, then drags himself dramatically down the hall in the direction of our bedrooms.

  “I have a theory that he’s going to astound the world on Broadway someday,” I say, giving Cole a wink and turning back to the grilled cheese. “He puts on such amazing performances almost every day. He should at least get paid for it.”

  Cole lets out a laugh I don’t hear very often, and I can’t help the huge grin that comes over my face. I feel like we’re the same, he and I. We might not let our happiness overflow very often, but when it does, it really is genuine. And getting a good moment with Cole feels like hitting pay dirt. Every time.

  When Jones comes back out in a pair of pajamas, I hand him his plate, his sandwich cut in an X, from corner to corner, and say “Eat it over the table please” as he wanders back out to the living room without so much as a thank you.

  I roll my eyes and turn back to clean up the mess just as Diana decides to make her presence known with a swift kick against my stomach.

  I let out an oof and bend over, and in less than a second, Cole is at my side, a hand on my back.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I stand back up and give him a smile.

  “Definitely,” I respond. “Just dealing with a dance break.”

  His brow furrows in confusion, but I reach out and grab his hand, which is massive, and place it on my stomach. Nothing happens for about fifteen seconds, and then suddenly my girl decides to start breakdancing and does a windmill.

  Cole’s eyebrows shoot up and he shifts his hand slightly, his fingers widening to cover as much span as they can. His hand is so warm, and I swear Diana can feel him, because she moves around and it feels like she’s snuggled up right where his hand is planted.

  She’s just as eager for his attention as I am.

  “Wow,” he says, his eyes coming to mine. “That’s amazing. How are you not in pain all the time?”

  I let out a little laugh, placing a hand next to his and feeling my baby from both the inside and the out.

  “I am in pain all of the time, although it’s fairly mild. But I think this is one of the things in life where the joy you feel is so mind-numbingly distracting that you don’t notice the pain very often. You’re too focused on all of the other emotions that feel like they’re on full volume all the time.”

  He nods, like he understands. But if I’m honest, men can’t understand this. There’s something special that happens when you carry a child that men will just never be able to experience.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever really get that,” he says, surprising me. “But I think it’s great how you described it. How much you love her. It’s beautiful.”

  Our eyes lock then, his hand still on my stomach, and a sense of peace washes over me that I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. It’s not something I ever felt with Andrew. And maybe that’s because Andrew and I were never friends. We were just convenient lovers and roommates. I was just a person that worshipped the ground he walked on and made him feel good about himself, even though he never managed to do either of those things for me.

  And maybe that’s the difference here. For the first time, I have a relationship with a man who cares about me deeply, to a point where he’s willing to sacrifice things in his own life to make sure I’m safe and happy. And even though it’s a friendship, it’s one of the most amazing things I’ve experienced in my life.

  I close my eyes, just enjoying this moment. And I let myself wish… for something good. And pure. For love and happiness.

  For Cole.

  My eyes fly open and I take a step back, my embarrassment at wishing for my friend to fall for me surely covering my face. I can’t even look at him, so I turn and focus on putting away all of the stuff I used to make Jones his grilled cheese.

  “Annie?” His voice holds a hint of a question, likely due to my completely overdramatic pulling away from him.

  But I can’t deal with it right now. I am suddenly, and overwhelmingly crushed with the reality I face. Whether Cole is single or not, I have proven time and again that I’m a big fat crazy mess. And even if he was attracted to me, which I can hardly imagine considering how disgusting and huge I feel all the time – I mean, really, I’m just a gassy, bloated, queasy ball of gross pretty much 24/7 – he deserves someone a lot more put together than I am.

  He is this kind, warm, thoughtful, gorgeous man with so much ahead of him and I’m just… me.

  “I’m just tired,” I finally say, “from today. I mean, it was a lot.”

  There’s a beat of silence behind me where I wonder if he believes what I said. But then I let out a silent breath of relief when he answers.

  “Well, I’ll just get out of here, then. Give you and Jones time to rest and recuperate.”

  I glance over my shoulder at him, planning to give him a friendly wave and a thank you, but I freeze when I see the way he’s looking at me.

  It’s… serious. Not like, angry serious. Just very, very focused. Like he’s a robot that can only focus on one thing at a time and he’s been assigned to look at me.

  “I’m gonna be a little busy this weekend. My sister is going to be here until Monday with her husband and we have a bunch of plans.”

  I nod my head a few times.

  “Well, Jones and I will be getting a Christmas tree this weekend to decorate. You’re welcome to join. If you have free time.”

  He gives me a warm smile.

  “I’ll see you soon, Annie.”

  And then he turns and gives Jones a high five before walking out the front door.

  “Cole!” I shout, right before he closes it. He pops his head back in. “Thank you,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears again as I remember how close I was to losing my Jonesie. “Again. I know I say it all the time but… Jones is my
life. You didn’t just save him today. You saved me, too. So thank you. For everything.”

  His face gives way to a soft smile that does nothing to take away from how focused in on me he is.

  “You’re welcome, Annie girl.”

  «««« »»»»

  On Sunday, we buy a Christmas tree and I have it delivered to the house. I know Cole would have helped if I’d asked, but I don’t want to take advantage of that. Especially since I know he’s hanging out with his sister this weekend.

  I’ve spent the last six Christmases in Illinois, where we had to deal with snow and shit weather. Now that I’m trying to hoist around boxes of Christmas ornaments with a very pregnant body in 85-degree weather, I’m missing the seasons a little bit more.

  “And this is one that I bought the year you were born,” I tell Jones, pulling out a reindeer that says ‘Jones, Christmas 2014’ in script at the bottom.

  He smiles. “Will we make one this year for the princess?”

  I like that he’s reverted from ‘the guppy’ and is now calling Diana ‘the princess’. I hope he grows out of that at some point, or it’s going to give her a superiority complex.

  “We’ll see.” I hang the reindeer on the tree. “It depends when she gets here. She might be here in two weeks, or three, or even come after Christmas.”

  Jones pouts. “She better get here by Christmas. I told Santa last year that I wanted a baby sister. So this year, he better deliver.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “Where did you even learn that? He better deliver.” And then I just keep laughing.

  Jones loses interest in decorating the tree pretty quickly and wanders off to play in his room. But I persevere. This has been tradition in my family as long as I can remember. You buy a Christmas tree to set up as you take down the Thanksgiving decorations. You decorate it with Christmas music playing, too. Lots of people refuse to play Christmas music until December 1st, but I like the ‘right after Thanksgiving’ thing. You have to give Thanksgiving it’s full due, but as soon as it’s over, it’s time for the Christmas season.

  I bounce around, feeling light on my feet for the first time in months, singing to my baby girl and adding ornaments to the tree for another hour. Just as I finish, there’s a knock at the door. And when I open it, I sigh internally at the sight of Cole at my doorstep, a warm smile on his face.

  “Hey Annie,’ he says. “How’s the tree decorating?”

  I step back and motion for him to come in. “It’s going good. I just finished, actually. So you got to skip out on helping.”

  He laughs. “I saw you a little while ago through the front window. I didn’t want to interrupt your time with Jones.”

  At that I can’t help but laugh too. “Dude, Jones ditched me an hour ago. This fine masterpiece is all moi.” I walk over to the wall. “And now it’s time to turn it on.”

  I bend over, incredibly awkwardly, and grab the plug for the tree lights, then plug it in. Just as the tree lights up, Cole flicks the living room lights off so we are just in the glow of the twinkling fairy lights.

  “Nice,” I say, grinning at Cole, then stepping over to where he stands so I can get a good view of how the tree looks.

  “You did good, kid,” he says.

  I wince. He might be… how much older than me? 12 years? I think he said he was 34. But I don’t like when he calls me kid. It just makes me feel like he thinks I’m some ridiculous naïve thing he’s responsible for.

  “What’s that face for?” he asks.

  I turn to look at him and shake my head. “It’s stupid.”

  But Cole won’t accept that as an answer. “It’s not. What just happened?”

  I sigh, then turn and look at him in the eye. “I don’t like when you call me kid. I’m almost 25 and I have two kids of my own. It just… it makes me feel like you don’t take me seriously. Like I’m just someone you have to look after because she can’t do it herself.”

  “That is not…” he lets out a quick laugh, almost like he’s irritated. “That’s the last thing I think about you, Annie. Seriously. I say kid because… well, I don’t know why. Because you are so much younger than me, maybe.” He pauses. “Or maybe just to remind myself.”

  I turn back to look at the Christmas tree, the twinkling lights shifting the light around the room. If we were dating, this could be a romantic moment. But I guess that’s a little naïve of me, huh?

  “Truth is, Annie, I don’t think you’re ready,” he says, and when I glance over at him, I see he has his eyes trained on the tree in front of him.

  My throat closes up, then. Because I can tell that this moment is going to matter. Whatever happens next.

  “For what?” I ask, my voice a whisper. I’m surprised I’m even able to say anything.

  There’s a long pause, and then I feel his hand reach for mine. But he doesn’t hold my hand or intertwine our fingers. He just flirts them along my palm, lightly touching my skin.

  Then his head finally turns, his eyes meeting my gaze, which is looking at him with naked surprise.

  “For how I feel about you.”

  I pant out a single breath, the tingling in my fingers and toes flushing like snow in a windstorm, sneaking quickly throughout my body and hitting me in every vital organ. My stomach, my lungs, my heart, before creating a prickling behind my eyes.

  “I know you feel something for me,” he adds, not looking away, but turning and stepping closer to me. “I’ve known for… a while.”

  My face flushes red as I wonder how stupidly obvious I’ve been with my feelings. If he’s known for a while when I was trying to respect his relationship with Jess.

  “But we both need time.”

  “Time for what?” I ask, nearly choking on my words.

  He gives me a small smile. “Just… time.” He looks back at the tree. “I broke up with Jess because I’m crazy about you.”

  My stomach swoops at his declaration.

  What?

  “But I don’t want that to put pressure on you to be with me when you’re still figuring things out for you and Jones. Dealing with how you feel about Andrew.”

  I sour instantly at the mention of him.

  “He was a huge part of your life, and while I only know the barebones about what happened between you, I know he was important to you. And I’m pretty sure you still love him, in some way, even if he doesn’t deserve it. So it makes sense to give you time to process that. To really grieve. To let go.”

  He pauses.

  “But I’ll still be here. I’ll still be your friend while you figure that out. All you need to do is call or text me, or come by the house.”

  It’s all happening so fast. He has feelings for me. He knows I have feelings for him. But we have to wait. I close my eyes for a second, trying to process it all but feeling like I’m walking through a fog, like my brain is this sludgy mess that can’t see everything at once.

  “And what do you need time for?” I finally ask. He said we both need time, but he’s only talking about me. What does he need to figure out?

  He gives me another smile.

  “I need time to plant my own grass.”

  My brow furrows at what he says, but he doesn’t explain further. He just steps right up next to me, and wraps his arms around my shoulders, holding me tight.

  I return the embrace, allowing myself to soak him in. His warmth, his scent, his kindness. Maybe even his love.

  He kisses me softly at the temple, and then steps back.

  “See you, Annie girl.”

  And then he walks out the door, closing it behind him.

  I continue staring at the Christmas tree, at the twinkling lights, for at least another twenty minutes. Until the ebb and flow of lights is surely going to make me feel like I’m going blind once I finally turn it off.

  But I can’t step away from this spot just yet.

  Because once I leave where I’m standing, this moment is truly over. This moment when Cole and I just
might have begun something beautiful.

  That’s not a moment you step out of without giving it it’s due.

  «««« »»»»

  I lay in bed that night staring at the ceiling for at least an hour before going to make some tea. I feel like my mind is falling to bits and I just can’t seem to focus on anything but Cole.

  And it makes me feel like a monster.

  Andrew has only been gone for a few months. Not even five, actually. 142 days. That’s no time at all in the grand scheme of things. Barely a drop in the pool of how long our relationship was.

  How can I be feeling how I feel for Cole? How can I be feeling how I feel this deeply, when I’d thought for so long that Andrew was going to be the person I spent my life with?

  I wrap my arms around my stomach. My sweet princess will never know her father. And it kills me to know that her life might be better off that way.

  I see Jones changing every day. He’s less cautious. Less afraid. Less controlled by the rules that Andrew placed on our house. His open heart is growing. And that thrills me. It sends me over the moon.

  And it’s without his dad.

  But because of Cole.

  Well, maybe not just Cole. Jones also has me and his Mimi.

  But Cole has been a pretty big part of him coming out of his shell. Of him feeling like he’s allowed to feel and have opinions and that he can do and be what he wants.

  I don’t want to be thankful that Jones won’t really remember his father, or that Diana won’t know him at all. But I am. If they’re lucky enough to have just his good parts, just the good stories and happy old memories, that’s enough. It’s all they need.

  But for me, it’s a different story.

  I have a decade of life and love and fights and anger and disappointment and happiness to reflect on. I will probably always remember the way he looked at me when he loved me.

  And the way he looked at me when he didn’t.

  I will always remember the words he said that soothed, and the ones that cut. The things he did that healed, and the things that hurt.