The Starting Line: Friends To Lovers

by Jennifer Hartley

  But married?

  “Wow! This is amazing! I’m so, so happy for you.” Oddly, Hailey is the first to collect her bearings and starts to congratulate her sister, wishing so badly that she could reach through and hug her. Another round of merriment commences, and by the time Hailey crawls into bed, her face hurts from smiling so much, and she’s pretty sure she’s going to have a hangover from all the champagne she ingested.

  After the Friday evening Hailey had, she’s pretty sure the ballet is going to take second place. Of course, as in all things lately, she is off the mark a bit. They catch an early train to New York and arrive at the hotel just in time for her first surprise. Her mom used credit card points to splurge on this getaway escape-type package, which includes massages, facials, and high tea in which they keep their pinkies up the whole time. The stores of New York make a pretty penny, as well as Hailey and Miranda visit their favorite places, racking up plenty of bills.

  By the time the ballet rolls around, Hailey is practically floating from excitement. Glancing over at her mother, who is absolutely luminous (she can’t tell if it’s happiness or the expensive facial) she can’t help but feel, all the way down to her toes, absolutely thrilled. They have a delicious dinner at their favorite restaurant and a fortifying discussion on Hailey’s concerns regarding the project in Uganda. When they arrive at the theater, she’s certain of her plans and at peace with her decisions.

  The first half of Cinderella takes her breath away and leaves her in tears. In a good way, of course. She and her mother spends the intermission from their box seats in the VIP lounge and are waiting for their champagne when lo and behold, she spots Dr. Hackney standing with a very attractive man in his mid-fifties. Uncertain what she should do, her body operates on autopilot and carries her over to Dr. Hackney, who meets her halfway.

  “Ah, Hailey, such a delight to see you! This must be your mother,” Dr. Hackney kisses both Hailey’s cheeks and holds out a beautifully manicured hand to Miranda, who shakes in kind.

  After introductions are made, Hailey inquires after Dr. Hackney’s presence at the ballet.

  “My husband and I are donors to ABT. We attend most functions when we can. I have a daughter a little younger than you who dances in Chicago, as well. Thus we are long-term patrons of the arts.”

  “That’s marvelous,” Miranda replies, and Hailey nods. Her mother inquires further about Dr. Hackney’s daughter as Hailey stands by, nodding. She’s somewhat dumbfounded. How did she not know that Hackney had a daughter? Every time she interacts with this woman, it’s like another layer of intrigue falls away to reveal something equally complex.

  “Look at the time,” Mr. Hackney notes with a thick English accent, before turning to Hailey. “Would you and your mother care to join us after the ballet? There’s always a hoity-toity gala after the premiere, and as donors, we get to interact with the company and schmooze for a bit. Rather uppity, but it’s good for people watching.”

  Hailey immediately takes a shine to this strange man, wondering how two such drastically different people ended up together. Glancing at a bemused Dr. Hackney and then her mother who nods, Hailey smiles brightly in acquiescence. They agree to meet afterward in an adjoining hall and bid each other farewell.

  The next three hours pass by in a daze of exceptional artistry and movement, then euphoria as she meets long-esteemed dancers, musicians, and well-known benefactors of the metropolitan art community. She would be lying if she said her inner fangirl wasn’t doing backflips of excitement while trying to calm her outer self. Hard work.

  Dr. Hackney and her mother seem to get along rather well, which surprises Hailey, if only because there’s a layer to Dr. Hackney that frightens her. She’s not sure why, but to become someone as powerful as her, she had to have developed a certain amount of shrewdness that tends to turn off her mother. Granted, her mother is also one of the most discerning, intelligent people she knows, so Hailey observes it all in contemplative silence.

  Before departing New York, they have brunch at an unfamiliar restaurant, worth it, because the chocolate-filled croissants are amazing. They climb onto the train with two more bags than they came down with, packed to the brim. The ride is quiet and ponderous, but serene.

  Once they arrive at home to an empty house and a note that says ‘at the golf course’ from her father, Hailey prepares for a quick turnaround. Shoving all her newly-acquired belongings into her car, she turns to face her mom and looks at her for a moment.

  “I cannot thank you enough for this entire weekend. Start to finish, I’ve had one of the best times of my life.”

  Miranda wraps Hailey into a tight hug, warm and comforting as all mothers’ hugs are. “Yes, I made sure to engineer two very large pieces of news to occur on the same night, just to make this weekend even more exceptional.”

  Chuckling, Hailey pulls away and gives her mom a kiss then heads to the driver’s side and opens the door. Before getting inside, she turns once more to her mom who is bent over, picking a couple of weeds out of a nearby flowerbed.

  “Hey, mom?”

  She turns and looks at Hailey, expectant. “Yes?”

  “You’re going to be a grandmother.”

  The smile that crosses her face is what men write poems about.

  In ten days, Jude and Hailey will be performing for Jacob, and both are feeling ambivalent about the prospect. They’ve spent weeks developing the programs, but are only able to get feedback as often as their schedules allow them to get down to Durm. In the meantime, they’ve taken to meeting with Jennifer Swann or her partner at the studio, Edgar. He’s loud and opinionated.

  “How am I supposed to be feeling right now?” Calls a dissatisfied Edgar from a random seat in the stands.

  “Sad.” “Conflicted.” They both say at the same time.

  “Exactly. Figure yourselves out,” Edgar barks as he steps toward the benches. “Go… go get food, have a nice chat about the weather, I don’t care. But come back here with an idea of what you’re trying to convey because I’ve seen seven-year-olds with better chemistry.”

  Jude scowls at the back of Edgar’s head, sighing in frustration. He has to admit, they have been off all day, but he’s in a terrible mood and having to spend time with Hailey isn’t making anything better. She’s been quiet, which never bodes well because it means she’s either worried, working through an issue, or finding the courage to tell him something he’s not going to like.

  Slumping into their seats at the diner, they pick up their menus and look through them blindly, even though their orders never change. Their waitress comes over with their drinks, dropping off chocolate milk and ice water for both of them, letting them know their food will be out shortly.

  “Do you really think it’s that bad?” Hailey asks as she sips her chocolate milk through a straw.

  “No. I just think the other dance looks a lot better in comparison.”

  “Yeah, well that one is light and fun, even though it’s crazy technical.”

  Jude smiles, “It is fun. I really like the change we did to that lift in the beginning. Jennifer was right; it makes it look much more professional.”

  “I agree.” Hailey places her glass down and sighs expectantly. “But Eavesdrop…”

  “So it’s over between them, but they don’t want it to be?”

  Hailey drops her gaze as he says this, and Jude feels his cheeks flush. She clears her throat and swallows quickly, then looks back up at him.

  “And so they hold on with all they’ve got?” Her voice curls over the words like smoke, her eyes shrouded with all that’s unspoken. He stares back at her for a beat too long, and they both know that they’re wandering into forbidden territory. Fortunately, their food arrives at that moment, Club Sandwich for him, soup and salad for her.

  She starts picking at her food, which gives a clue to him that she still has something on her mind. “Why are you so quiet? Did something happen in Corden a couple of weeks ago? I mean, I know all your fami
ly things are crazy and wonderful lately, but what else is up?”

  Glancing up at him, she blinks hard and shakes her head, lost in thought. “Yeah, so… I had this meeting with Dr. Bouchard, my benefactor, and the co-founder of the non-profit I worked with in Uganda.”

  “Sounds like a super lame dad joke,” Jude quips as she reaches over and tosses a fry at him.

  “Anyway, earlier in the year, I submitted this rough draft for the integration of a vocational center as part of post-conflict reconstruction. Dr. Bouchard passed it along without my knowledge and now… things are spiraling out of control.”

  “I’m confused,” Jude interrupts. “Which part do you have a problem with?”

  She sighs, looking mildly flustered. “Basically, the co-founder, Jason, wants me to run this whole fund-raising campaign up here and generate the funds in order to put my proposal into action.”

  “That’s great! Right?” Jude cheers, holding his hand up for a high-five, which she gives him. “Are they going to give you their assets and contacts?”

  “Sort of, but…”

  “And then they’re going to use the money you raise to create something you’re planning? All in the name of the country? That’s amazing! Seriously. Wow, Hailey. That’s… awesome.”

  Hailey gives him a weak smile, shaking her head. “That’s not the point though. I just… I never wanted to be in the spotlight on this. I just wanted to engineer a conceptual model that could be applied to many different countries post-conflict, not use Uganda as my guinea pig. Besides, I have law school starting in the Fall. This is… it’s a lot.”

  “I don’t know; it sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me,” Jude replies. “It’s not like we haven’t sold ourselves in the past to get the things we want. From how much you’ve been talking about it in the past few months, some part of you really wants this project to come to fruition, so unless you plan on bankrolling it yourself, you’re going to have to bend somewhere.”

  Hailey chews the corner of her lip, thinking. “I know, I just… wish I didn’t have to do all the speaking. Posing for a couple of pictures is one thing. Standing in front of thousands of people is completely different.”

  “And yet you do it with me all the time.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a bit different when I’m riding solo.”

  Jude wipes his mouth with his napkin and shrugs. “Tell you what, if I’m available, I’ll come to help you out. Just because I’m not getting some doctorate in the UN or whatever doesn’t mean I can’t support the cause, right?”

  The way Hailey’s face lights up at his unexpected offer makes Jude’s heart pound against his chest. “That’s… that’s very generous,” her smile starts to fall, “but I can’t let you do that. I don’t want you to feel obligated -”

  “Hailey, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to do it. I agree with you; this is a worthwhile cause. I want to do my part to help.”

  She smiles sweetly, causing his thumping heart to start fluttering excitedly. When she starts talking again about the project and some photoshoot in Freemon, he feels his mood lifting and that stupid grin reemerges on his face.

  When they return to the studio, Edgar has yet to return, so they run through the program again, this time fully understanding what they’re trying to convey.

  “Why’d you say ‘conflicted’ earlier when Edgar asked about this piece?” Jude asks.

  “For the same reason you said it was sad. Except I think it works out for them,” she replies as they edge close to the benches. When they move, their faces are so close he can feel her breath on his lips, just the way they like it.

  “Why’s that?” Jude whispers as the music ramps up into the climax. Hailey doesn’t reply, just offers him an enigmatic smile. He pulls her into their last lift as she pushes off his shoulder, spinning rapidly in a precarious hold, then she maneuvers her body around his, gripping him tightly at the designated areas until she’s resting on one foot in their final pose.

  Foreheads together, their lips are almost touching, and their breaths are heavy and quick. Jude isn’t sure how long he holds her to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He just knows that he could maintain this position until the end of time.

  “Finally! You two look like you know what you’re doing!” Edgar calls as he moves out onto the floor, causing them to pull apart. “I nearly wept, you two. That was beautiful, wasn’t it?”

  Jude nods mutely, not trusting his voice. It feels like his body is humming, vibrating even. A glance at Hailey, who’s cool as a cucumber as Edgar offers up a critique, makes Jude feel ridiculous for the feelings she generates. If only he looked a little longer, a little harder, he’d see that she can hardly focus her gaze and that her hands are shaking.

  “Okay! This time, run through the top half, there were a couple of areas that need polish…”

  By the time Jude and Hailey leave the studio, they’re sore and tired. All Jude wants is his bed, maybe a beer or two before that. Hailey remains quiet beside him as they walk to their cars, most likely as exhausted as he. Possibly a little unsettled, but he’s certainly not going to ask.

  “See you stupid early tomorrow for lessons with the kiddos,” Hailey says as she waves casually.

  “Yeah. I can’t believe we double stacked our days like this. What, do we think we’re athletes or something?”

  Hailey smirks as she unlocks her car. “Or something. Night Jude.”

  Jude nods as he climbs into the driver’s seat and heads home, surprised to find Cynthia’s car parked out front. He sits in his truck for a moment, trying to clear his mind and calm his nerves. It’s starting to take longer and longer to set himself right after he spends time with Hailey. Not only that, but he can smell her on his clothes, something he’s sure Cynthia has noticed but never commented on.

  He has genuine feelings for Cynthia; he truly does. But when he’s with her, it feels like any other relationship he’s had, one that’s waiting for deeper feelings to form and grow. He’s not sure how he did it before, spend all his time with Hailey, then keep a part of himself for someone else. Perhaps he was redirecting his feelings for her onto other women.

  No, that cheapens those relationships. There were legitimate feelings on both sides. But, like he said to Luke that one time, a lot of factors had to do with the dissolution of those relationships.

  This time around, he’s putting a concerted effort into things with Cynthia, but it’s like one step forward, two steps back every time he’s with Hailey. A while back, he made a lame joke that they were unwilling soul-mates. Now, he’s made comments in the past where he believes in other halves and such, but he’s not so sure anymore. How can a relationship with someone create a whole… entity? What he does know is that he’s never experienced nor seen the kind of connection he has with Hailey. Anywhere.

  It’s hard to describe what he feels for her because no words encompass the enormity of emotion and depth of knowledge. Love, sure, but it’s different than the burgeoning flicker in his heart for Cynthia. Devotion? Yeah, okay. No, nothing does them justice.

  One thing is becoming clear though: when he saw her daily, he never had the chance to contrast ‘normal’ life to ‘Hailey’ life. But now, her presence is something like a drug to him: dangerous and all-consuming. Perhaps he never realized before how much she permeated his life. Maybe he didn’t want to.

  Because really? Who meets the person they’re supposed to be with for the rest of their life when they’re nine? He’s spent his whole life being told he and Hailey are perfect for each other, but it can never happen because of a multitude of reasons and excuses.

  He lets out a loud sigh and shakes his head. No thanks, he thinks, I’ll do my best to stick with something a little more traditional than unfulfilled childhood dreams that have grown out of proportion with reality. Cynthia is the safest bet he’s got, so he’s going to do his best to make it work.

  When he walks inside his place, only a couple of lights are on with t
he sound of a video game being played coming from his living room. Dropping his bag in the room with his football gear, he pads barefoot into the living room and watches Cynthia absolutely demolish the enemy. She does this thing with her body when she plays, where she dodges out of the way of bullets and obstacles. It’s utterly endearing.

  He watches her for a few minutes until she pauses the game and turns to him, a sleepy grin on her face. He smiles in kind, happy to see her after such a grueling day.

  “Hey you,” she says brightly as she rises from the couch. “I stopped by the store on the way home and picked up some beer and those weird chips you like.”

  “Don’t knock my love for wasabi chips.” Jude grins in gratitude as she walks up to him slowly, stretching like a cat along the way. She gives him a kiss then grabs his hand and pulls him into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she hands him a beer and pulls one out for herself, then slides across from him at his breakfast table.

  “Good day at work?” Jude asks as she settles in.

  “The best!” She replies, beaming. “We had this trauma earlier; it was insane. Blood and bones and guts everywhere. But you know what? Everything went great, start to finish. It was textbook perfect. This place can’t hold a candle to the traumas I saw in Atlanta, but it has its moments.”

  “Oh, I bet. So everyone lived? Did you save a life?” It’s a thing they always say to each other, half-joking, half-serious. Working in the business of life and death creates a morbid type of humor.

  “Ha yeah, I sure did. A few, actually. You look tired,” she observes as she reaches over and brushes back some of his hair. “How’s everything going?” Jude watches her for a moment, trying to discern if her interest is genuine or if she’s just fishing.

  “It’s good.” Jude takes a swig. “We both started out really tired, and we were having problems emoting or something like that. Our choreographer made us take a break and figure it all out. So it’s good now.” Jude pauses to reflect, “I think.”

  Cynthia nods as she folds a leg beneath her. “I don’t quite get how this all works. So you pick your music, choreograph your program, then perform, right? And you still have coaches to make sure it looks okay? You used to, right?”