“You don’t have to leave.”
“What good will my staying do? Maybe you’re right. Maybe we both need some space. My staying here tonight wouldn’t be right.”
She wanted him to take it all back. She wanted him to say that it was all a joke. He didn’t. He looked at her with a sad expression on his face.
She gathered her belongings and went to the door. She opened it and walked out without saying anything more.
When she closed the door behind her, her knees buckled. She held on to the wall for support. It was over! She and Jackson were finished. The tears she held back fell freely now.
When she got into her car, she rested her head on the steering wheel and cried. She cried for herself, for what she had, and for what she had lost. After about fifteen minutes, she started the car and began the drive home. As she drove, she played and replayed the past couple of weeks in her mind. What if she had done this differently? What if she had done that differently? What if? What if?
Her tears were all gone when she reached her house. All she had now was a heart that felt as if it weighed two tons. She walked into the house. She missed him already. She saw him in every room. She dreaded going into the bedroom, but she finally decided to get it over with. She walked in and flipped on the light. Jackson’s jacket was lying at the foot of the bed. She smiled. He could never decide which jacket to wear. If they’d spent weekdays here, her bed would probably be full of jackets. She picked up the jacket and held it close. It smelled of him. Chastising herself, she took the jacket and hung it up in the closet, their closet. His clothes were now mingled in with hers. It was amazing how quickly and completely their two lives had become intertwined.
She lay down on the bed. It, too, smelled of him. She remembered the nights they’d slept together in this bed. She remembered the night she had worn the purple teddy for him. God, it had been so good then. She lay there thinking of him until the tears came again. She was asleep before they stopped.
***
Jackson lay alone in his bed and missed her. Though their relationship hadn’t been too good the last few weeks, he preferred being with her to being without her. He replayed tonight’s conversation. He couldn’t think of any other way he could have handled it.
He loved her. There was no doubt about it. He just couldn’t handle the new emotions he was feeling. He didn’t like the way he felt when Christina chose Liza’s judgment over his. It felt like a slap in the face. They had disagreed before Liza had come on board. But it was one thing for your woman to disagree with you when it was just the two of you. It was a whole other thing for her to do it in front of a friend. Liza probably went home and told Robert about it, too.
Jackson turned over onto his stomach. He missed her softness pressed against him. He knew he had no one to blame but himself, but he couldn’t talk to her about it. How could he tell her that it made him feel less a man when she overruled him on a matter? How could he tell her that he needed her to respect his opinion?
He had told her that he could handle her being the boss. He had even joked about it. It was no joking matter. How did a man resolve his need to protect and care for his woman with the reality that his woman didn’t need or want his protection? He rolled over onto his back.
He had changed a lot since he’d met Christina. He thought he wanted an independent woman. Maybe he did, but he also wanted a woman who looked up to him, a woman who knew she could look to him for help. Christina didn’t need him. She might not know it now, but she would come to that conclusion sooner or later, and then she would leave. Just as his mother had left, she would leave.
***
When Christina awoke she didn’t know where she was. Then she remembered. She was home. Alone. She lay there looking at the ceiling for a while. She knew thoughts of Jackson would come. She couldn’t stop them and she wouldn’t try. She turned, opened the top drawer of her nightstand, and pulled out her small black notebook. She rubbed her hands up and down the cover, then opened it and turned to the page labeled, “Personal Goals.” She read numbers 4, 5, and 6: fall in love, get married, and have three children. She had certainly fallen in love. She closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer.
She closed her eyes and let the tears come. She opened them when the phone rang. She considered not answering, but she did.
“Hello,” she said.
“I called to see how you’re doing.” It was Jackson.
Maybe he’s calling to say it’s all a big mistake. “I’m doing fine. How about you?”
I’ve been better, he thought. “I’m fine. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Strangers. They were talking like strangers. She was pissed at herself for getting her hopes up. “I’m a big girl, Jackson. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“That what I thought,” he said sadly, and then hung up.
Christina held the phone in her hand. The nerve of that man. Was that sadness she heard in his voice? What did he have to be sad about? I’m the one who’s been wronged here. Men!
Christina didn’t feel like going to work today. She dreaded the staff meeting with Jackson and Liza, but she’d be damned if she’d let him think she was home crying over him. She got up and dressed for work.
She arrived in her office later than usual. Penny was not at her desk. When she walked into the office, she saw a bouquet of red roses on her desk. Her heartbeat sped up. Maybe he wants to make up. She rushed to the desk to read the card. She held it to her heart and wished. Then, she opened it and dropped down in her chair. “Not again,” she said aloud. “Not again.”
***
Christina couldn’t bear to see Jackson today. She told Penny to tell him and Liza that the status meeting was cancelled and left the office.
When she arrived at her house, she went straight to the kitchen. She needed something cold to drink. She placed her briefcase on the counter, took a glass from the cabinet, and went to the refrigerator. She stood with her back to the counter as she drank. From her position, she could see her front porch. And something on the porch caught her eye. She went to the front door. “Oh, my God,” she said.
***
She was still seated at the kitchen counter when Jackson let himself into the house a few hours later. “I was worried when you canceled the meeting this afternoon,” he said. “I called. When nobody answered I came to check on you. Is everything all right?”
She looked at him and wondered who this man was. “Thanks for the roses,” she said dryly. “There was no need to send two bouquets.”
“What are you talking about?” Jackson asked.
She pointed toward the dining room. “See for yourself.” Jackson saw the roses through the open dining room door. “When did you get these?”
“They were here to greet me when I got in from work.”
“Where’s the card?”
It was on the counter. She pushed it in his direction. He read it, then asked, “Have you called the police?”
She shook her head. “I got more roses today at work. I called security.”
“What did they say?”
“They came to a dead end in the last investigation, but they did come up with one bit of information that you might find interesting.”
“And what’s that?” he asked.
“The last bouquet came from Wall’s Flower Shop in the Midtown Terrace apartment building.” That bit of news had sent her home early. Security should have given her this news as soon as they found out.
“My building? The roses came from my building?”
“You sound as surprised as I was to get that piece of information.”
Jackson looked at her then. The look in her eyes was one he had never seen before. “Christina, you can’t think…” he began.
“I don’t know what to think. Maybe you can help me.” Christina knew her voice was calm. She was falling apart inside, but her voice was calm.
“You can’t think I sent
them,” he said.
There was something in his tone that made her want to go to him and wrap him in her arms. She didn’t give in to the feeling. “Who do you think sent them?”
“I don’t know. What would I gain by sending them?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question.”
“And what answer do you come up with?”
“I don’t have an answer. I just have a lot of pieces that make a real ugly picture.”
“What pieces? What are you talking about?”
“When I thought about it, I began to see a pattern. The roses started after our fiasco in Boston the first time. I stopped getting them after our weekend together at Liza’s wedding. They started coming again after our first real fight. What do you conclude from that, Jackson?”
“There’s no need for me to say anything. You’ve figured it all out yourself.”
“You don’t have anything to say?” she asked. She wanted him to deny it, to explain.
“You’re a smart woman. You’ve figured it all out. What more could I possibly add?”
She didn’t answer.
“I didn’t think so,” he said, and turned to leave.
“Leave my key on the table on your way out,” she said.
He turned back to look at her.
She saw the plea in his eyes, but she chose to ignore it. He turned, put the key on the table, and left the house.
Christina remained seated at the counter after he had gone. She waited for the tears to come, but they didn’t. She waited for the overwhelming sense of hurt and pain to come, but it didn’t. She finally realized that she was numb. She felt nothing. She didn’t know if she would ever feel anything again.
***
Jackson made it to his car. He drove out of the driveway and down the street. He made it about one mile before he had to pull over in a Denny’s parking lot.
He shook with anger. How could she think that I would do something like that? he asked himself. What kind of man does she think I am?
Jackson leaned his head back against the headrest. Memories of times he and Christina had shared passed through his thoughts. He saw her face the first time they’d made love. He heard her voice when he’d told her he loved her the first time. He remembered her anxiety the day of their first party. He felt the same emotions he had felt when the events had occurred. He patted his face because it felt funny. When he looked at his hands, they were wet.
***
Christina needed to talk to someone. She considered calling Liza, but Liza was too close to Jackson. She picked up the phone and dialed. “It’s me,” she said. “Are you going to be home this weekend?”
“Yes,” her mother said.
“I should be there in four hours,” Christina said.
“Is something wrong? Did you and Jackson have a fight?”
“I don’t want to talk about it now, Mom,” Christina said. “I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”
***
It was dark when Jackson opened his eyes. He looked at his watch. He’d been sitting in the Denny’s lot for more than three hours. He felt his face. It was dry. He looked in the rearview mirror and couldn’t believe what he saw. Though his heart was crushed, he looked the same. Shaking his head, he started the car.
He considered stopping by Ellis’s house, but decided against it. He and Betty were too close to him and Christina, and Robert was out of the question. Then Jackson had an idea. Instead of taking the Interstate downtown to his apartment, he made a detour.
Eighteen
Jackson arrived at the Oklahoma City Airport at 2 A.M. He rented a car and took a room at a nearby hotel. He admitted that he may have been a bit rash in taking the flight out, but now that he was here, he was going to make the best of it. He had no clean clothes and no sleepwear. “What the hell.” He pulled off his clothes and went to bed nude.
The light streaming through the hotel room window greeted him when he awoke. He sat up in bed and wondered again that he had decided to fly out to Oklahoma without any clothes and without telling anyone that he was coming. He looked at the clock. It wasn’t too early, he decided. He walked over to where his pants hung on the chair and pulled his wallet out of the pocket. He sat back on the bed, shuffled through the wallet, and found the number. Jackson weighed the decision. What were the chances he’d be there? It didn’t matter. He needed to talk and the Stevens were the closest thing to a real family that he had. He picked up the phone and dialed.
“Stevens residence,” a young male voice answered.
“Hello, this is Jackson Duncan. Is Mr. or Mrs. Stevens around?”
He heard the phone drop and the young voice yell, “Grandma, telephone.”
“Hello,” a familiar voice said.
Hearing her voice made him feel better. “Hello, Mrs. Stevens. This is Jackson.”
“Jackson?” she asked.
“You’ve forgotten me that quickly? I’m crushed. It’s Jackie Duncan.”
“Jackie? Is that you, Jackie? How are you doing, boy? Where are you calling from?”
She was the only person who called him Jackie. Hearing the enthusiasm in her voice, Jackson was transported back to his college days. “I see you still ask a lot of questions,” he said. “I’m doing fine and I’m here in Oklahoma City.”
“You’re here in Oklahoma City,” she repeated. “What are you doing here? Where are you staying? You’re welcome to stay with us, you know.”
Jackson was relieved she hadn’t changed. Her home was still open to him. “I’m at a hotel now, but I’d like to come visit.”
“What are you doing in a hotel? You should have stayed with us.”
“My flight got in late last night. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You wouldn’t have been a bother. George stays up all hours of the night, anyway.”
“How is Mr. Stevens, by the way?”
“George is fine. He retired last year. He’s been around here worrying me to death, but he’s doing fine.”
“I can’t wait to see you both again. Do you still live in the same place?”
She laughed a rich, full laugh. “You know better than to ask that. Where would we go? All our kids grew up here, and now the grandkids. This is home for the rest of our days. Now, when are you going to get over here?”
“I should be there in the next couple of hours. I have a few errands to run first.”
“Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.”
***
The shopping took longer than he’d expected, and he arrived at the Stevens home an hour later than planned.
“We were beginning to wonder if you’d gotten lost,” Mr. Stevens said, after he and Mrs. Stevens had given Jackson big hugs.
“I had no problem at all getting here. It was like being on automatic pilot. I got in the car and it brought me here.”
“It sure is good to see you again, son,” Mr. Stevens said. “Reggie told us that he saw you when he was in Atlanta. How long have you been there?”
“Almost eight months,” Jackson answered. But it felt like a lifetime. “My job transferred me there.”
“How do you like it?” Mrs. Stevens asked. “I’ve never been to Atlanta. Always wanted to go, but I never got around to it.”
A month ago he would have given an enthusiastic, “I love it,” but now . . . “It’s a good city. It grows on you.”
“Reggie liked it, too. He was dropping hints about moving there for a while,” Mr. Stevens said.
Jackson knew the reason for that. “Is Reggie around this weekend?” he asked cautiously.
Mrs. Stevens shook her head. “He’s out of town today, but he’ll be back tomorrow. I hope you get to see him.”
“Me, too,” Jackson lied. Reggie was the last person he wanted to see. “How’s William? Reggie told me married life was treating him well.”
“He and the wife and kids are fine,” Mrs. Stevens sai
d. “They’re out of town this weekend, though, and won’t be back until Wednesday.”
“I hate that I won’t get to see them.”
“Their oldest answered the phone when you called. He left about a half-hour ago to spend the weekend with one of his friends,” Mrs. Stevens said.
“You missed out all the way ’round,” Mr. Stevens added.
Jackson looked from Mr. Stevens to Mrs. Stevens. He was glad they were still the same happy family. “I didn’t miss out at all. I have the two of you to myself this weekend.”
Mr. and Mrs. Stevens laughed, and then Mrs. Stevens stood up. “Do you still have a good appetite, Jackie?”
Jackson smiled and patted his stomach.
“Good. Let me go see what I can rustle up for you.”
***
Jackson stood in the garage of the Stevens home with Mr. Stevens. He watched from a seat on the workbench as Mr. Stevens tinkered with his lawn mower.
“What really brings you out here, Jackson?” Mr. Stevens asked casually.
Jackson stood up at that question and walked the length of the garage. He didn’t know how to get started. “You don’t buy that I’m just in the area?”
Mr. Stevens looked up and Jackson saw the concern in his eyes. “I have three boys of my own. I know when a man needs to talk.”
Jackson sat back down and clasped his hands in front of him. “I don’t even know where to start, Mr. Stevens.”
Mr. Stevens stopped working on the lawnmower and sat next to Jackson. “It helps to start at the beginning.”
When Jackson didn’t say anything, Mr. Stevens added, “You can start with her name.”
Jackson looked up at him. “How did you know it was a woman?”
Mr. Stevens eyes gleamed. “I might be old, Jackson, but I’m not dead.”
Jackson gave a half smile at that, then looked back at his hands. “Christina.” From Mr. Stevens’s response, or lack thereof, Jackson assumed that Reggie hadn’t mentioned Christina before.
Giving him more help, Mr. Stevens asked, “Do you love her?”
“Very much.” There was no doubt in Jackson’s mind about his feelings for her.
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