by Britney King
“My letters. You ignored them.”
He shook his head. “I never received a single letter from you.”
“Well, that explains a lot.” She swallowed. And then she began laughing maniacally, only stopping when she could no longer breathe.
They made love twice more that night. Each time better than the last. No matter how many times or how many men Amelie had sex with, she had yet to find a lover who even came close to Jack. She laid there in the dark, listening to him sleep and tried to put her finger on what it was that made things between the two of them so intense.
The following morning, Amelie ordered room service for breakfast and sat sipping her coffee as she watched Jack sleep. When she’d finished, and he hadn’t woken, she showered and dressed. She exited the bathroom to find him hurriedly ending a phone call.
He didn’t look at her.
“I ordered food,” she said motioning toward the cart.
“Thanks,” he said as he stood and pulled the sheet around him. He headed for the restroom and closed the door.
Amelie sat on the bed and flipped through the hotel brochure. She watched from the corner of her eye as Jack emerged from the bathroom and dressed. She noticed the way he lifted the lid on the hot plate and picked at the food, seemingly uninspired. “Everything ok?” she asked nodding toward his cell phone.
He turned as though for the first time noticing that someone else was in the room. “Oh. Yeah… you know… business B.S.”
He checked his watch and grimaced. It was after nine o’clock. “I haven’t slept this late in years…”
Amelie stood and walked to him. “So… I was thinking… I’m not sure what your schedule is like… but they’re sending me to Iceland for a few days… and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to come along…”
He started to respond then hesitated before finally saying, “I can’t… there’s too much going on at work…”
She placed her finger to his lips. “It’s ok. No need to explain. There’ll be other trips.”
Jack backed away and sighed. The color drained from his face. “Sit down, Amelie. There’s something I need to tell you…”
She didn’t sit. She watched his face and waited.
Jack stared at the floor as he spoke. “I’m engaged. The wedding is in five weeks.”
His words cut like a knife. “Oh. Wow.” She scoffed when she could finally speak.
He glanced at her and held her gaze. “Yeah. I know.”
She looked at the bed and then back at him to further dig in the point she knew was already weighing on him. “When were planning on telling me, Jack? I mean, we could’ve fucked a few more times before you sprang your impending marriage on me, don’t you think?” she hissed.
“It’s not like that. I never meant for it to happen this way.”
She threw her hands up. “Really? What did you think would happen when you decided to show up here like this…?”
He rubbed his jaw and shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see you and tell you in person.”
“Well, you’ve seen me: check. You told me: check. So at least there’s that,” she said, through gritted teeth.
Jack sat on the bed and stared out the window. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Amelie sat down next to him on the bed. His remorse suddenly on full display, and sensing that he saw her as a mistake, she thawed a little. “It’s ok,” she interrupted. “It could be worse. I mean… you’re not married yet, right?” she said, attempting a smile.
He pursed his lips. “It’s not like that. I’m not like that… I love her.”
She turned to him. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she came up with a plan on the spot. “I’m sure you do,” she said, her mouth set in a hard line. “But I really think, Jack… that you should give some thought to coming to Iceland with me. One last trip. Just you and I. We don’t… have to do this.” She motioned toward the bed. “It’s three days. Three days out of the whole rest of your life. That’s all I’m asking. For old times sake. It’ll be our last hurrah—only without the fuckery. Think about it… You’re getting married. When are we ever going to have the chance to travel together again?”
He sighed. “We’re not.”
“Exactly.”
He turned to face her. “Wait a minute… did you just say fuckery?”
She grinned. “I did.”
“Jesus.”
“So you’ll think about it then?” she asked, nudging his arm.
“On one condition: that you’ll come to the wedding.”
Amelie sighed, and before she realized the full implication of what she was agreeing to, she added, “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
SEVENTEEN
Amelie shifted her position, leaned her head back against the seat, and closed her eyes before opening them again. It was turning out to be a bumpy flight, which wasn’t helping her cause to try to get some sleep. She glanced at Jack, who, unlike her, didn’t appear to be having any problems at all. All of a sudden, he reached out and grabbed her arm, startling her so that she let out a loud gasp and practically jumped out of her seat.
“What the hell?” she said, her voice hushed.
He grinned and eyed her suspiciously. “Can’t sleep?”
“No. I’m worried about getting the shots they want. The editors weren’t very specific, which makes it a little more difficult. I don’t even know why they chose me for this job. I hate cold weather. Sometimes, I worry that I’m not cut out for this at all.”
Jack considered her statement before he spoke. “Since when have you ever worried about getting a shot? That’s not the girl I know.”
She sighed. “Since they started paying me a lot of money to get them.”
“So just pretend they aren’t.”
She shrugged and changed the subject. “What did you end up telling her?”
“Who? Elise?”
Amelie cocked her head to the side slightly and studied his expression.
Jack sucked a deep breath in and exhaled. “I told her I had some business that I needed to wrap up.” He shrugged and continued. “No further explanation was required. Our relationship isn’t really like that… we don’t question one another.”
She looked deep into his eyes, searching. “Well, I guess you didn’t really lie then, did you?”
“No, I didn’t,” he stated, matter of factly.
“Does she know about me? I mean… does she know I exist?”
“She does.”
Amelie nodded and closed her eyes. The next time she opened them they were making their descent into Keflavik. Noticing she was awake, Jack set down the newspaper he’d been reading, smiled, and pushed a small cup in her direction. “Coffee?”
She stretched and took the cup from his hands. He turned his attention back to the newspaper. “So what’s the plan?”
Amelie rubbed her eyes, and then cocked her head to the side. “Plan?”
“Photographers don’t have plans?” he said, not looking up from the newspaper as he answered.
“Oh. You meant plan,” she remarked sarcastically. “Well… we don’t meet with our guide until tomorrow morning. So I figured that we could scout out a few locations today. Since they haven’t really given specific instructions as to what they want… I figure I’ll just take a bunch of shots and see what sticks.”
Jack reached for her hand. She eyed her hand in his but didn’t move to pull away. “Sometimes… I pretend she’s you. I know… that sounds crazy… and I don’t mean it in a sick way or anything… I mean, it’s not like I do it when we’re having sex or anything, but it happens, just in general, you know.”
Amelie stared straight past him into the aisle across from them and then out the window. “I’m no expert, Jack… but that doesn’t sound very healthy.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I think a lot of people probably reminisce about their first love.”
She looked back at him and held his gaze. “If you say so.”
On the thirty-minute drive from the airport to their hotel in Rejinevik, Amelie stared out the window, mesmerized by the land around her. It was like nothing she had ever seen. There was dreariness to it, but hopefulness, as well. It was full of life, and it spoke to her, as though it made her feel every feeling she had welled up within. There was a paradox between its beauty and a sadness she couldn’t put her finger on, something she couldn’t yet touch. Shifting in her seat, she closed her eyes as she let it wash over her. Suddenly, everything hit her at once. The shock of seeing Jack again, of learning that he was getting married, and the gravity of what this trip meant. Jack seemed to sense her unease and placed his hand on her thigh. The heat of his touch, the weight of it practically burned a hole right through her. She decided then and there she needed to figure something out and quick.
Once they checked into their hotel where Jack made sure, asking the clerk three times, that they be placed in separate rooms, they’d agreed to freshen up, unpack, and then meet in the restaurant downstairs. Amelie stepped out of the shower and was surprised to hear someone knocking at her door. Dripping wet, she wrapped the hotel robe around her, went to the door, and peered out through the peephole. On the other side stood Jack, looking off down the hall, his hands shoved into his pockets. Amelie opened the door and stepped aside.
“I can’t do this!” he belted out.
Amelie didn’t say anything in response.
“I don’t know how to pretend we’re just friends. It’s been a long time since we were just fucking friends.”
She laughed against her better judgment. “Fucking friends… that’s a good one.”
“Amelie. This isn’t a goddamned joke.” He raised his voice as she watched the chiseled muscles in his jaw tighten, and then release. Finally, he threw up his hands. “We’re here for three days, right?”
She narrowed her gaze, confused. “Three days, yes.”
He nodded. “Then I have a proposal…”
Amelie rolled her eyes. “Proposing is what landed you in this mess in the first place, don’t you think…” she said, cutting him off.
“Are you finished yet?” Jack asked, his voice stern and direct.
She shrugged.
He waited, and when she didn’t retort, he added, “Good. Then I want to suggest that, for the next three days, we’re just… us. No pretenses. Whatever happens, happens.”
She wrung out her hair. “Ok.”
The corners of his mouth turned up slowly. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“What is it you want me to say?”
Jack inhaled sharply. “I want to know that you’re going to be ok. That we’ll spend this time together, and then go back to our lives…”
“Like nothing happened,” she said, cutting him off.
“Well, when you put it like that…”
Amelie crossed the room and stood directly in front of him. She took his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. “Oh, Jack. There isn’t any other way to put it. This is what it is. And if you’re worried about me… well, don’t be. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”
Jack slipped his hands underneath her robe, his hands running along her breasts, finally cupping them. He squeezed gently as she watched his facial expression change, a mixture of relief and something else written across it. He let go, removed his hands, untied her robe, and watched it fall to the floor. Amelie took his hand and led him to the bed where they would stay for the next six hours.
When they finally did make it down to the restaurant where they ate dinner instead of lunch, Amelie accused Jack of wasting her shower. “I reek of sex and… something else.”
He laughed. “Whatever it is, it suits you.”
“I’m starving,” she said, glancing at her plate.
His eyes followed. “Clearly.”
Amelie took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. “How’s your sex life?”
He seemed surprised, to say the least. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Jack sipped his water and placed the glass back on the table. “It’s fine. I mean… you know. We’ve been together for a while now, and we live together, so all of that stuff… it kind of changes.”
She deadpanned. “Sounds thrilling.”
“I don’t mean it like that, really. It’s good. Everything is good. But she and I… well, let’s just say it’s not like it is with us.”
Amelie bit her lip. “How so?”
“Our relationship is different. Let’s just leave it at that.”
And leave it at that they did, finishing their dinner in silence. After dinner, they headed out on foot exploring the local shops surrounding the hotel and picking up much needed supplies Jack hadn’t brought along. As they made their way back to the hotel to deposit the wares they’d purchased, Amelie broached the topic she’d been avoiding. “So… you never told me… is the wedding in Austin?”
Jack shook his head. “Hawaii. Her family has a place there.”
“Nice.”
“You know… your mom wrote you a letter for your wedding day. Have you read that one yet?”
“No.”
“Yeah. Me, neither.”
Jack stopped walking. “Wait… you’ve read them, recently?”
She faced him and dropped his hand. “Yeah. I have copies… and I read them from time to time.”
He reached for her hand and led her to a grassy area just across from the shops. He sat and pulled her down, too. They watched a group of teenagers as one teenager grabbed another ones hat and played keep away within their group of friends. After several minutes, he looked at her and asked, “So, what do you think… of the letters? I guess I never considered that you might still have them, that you read them, too.”
“I think they’re beautiful.” She smiled slightly. “There are a few I still have never read, though. The one for your wedding day and the one written for the day your first child is born, for example. I’m not sure why… I just never have. Maybe… it’s because those seem more personal. Like they’re a part of you that I’ll never know. They’ve always seemed too far off, too far into the future.”
After another stretch of silence, and more people watching, Jack spoke. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing marrying her. I keep looking for a sign as though something’s just going to materialize and wash away all of my doubts. I realize that I should be sure.” His mouth formed a hard line. “Shouldn’t I?” He finally asked his voice simultaneously pleading and forceful.
Amelie thought long and hard about how to answer, finally inhaling sharply. “I can’t say for sure, Jack. I mean, yes, you do need to be sure. You absolutely do. But I think most people probably go into it a little nervous. Hence the term cold feet.”
He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes “Yeah, speaking of cold feet…” He stood, reached for her hands, and pulled her up.
Amelie leaned in, threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him with all of the strength she could muster. When she pulled back, she chuckled. “Who are you, anyway? The Jack I knew has always been so sure of himself.” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little. “Must be love, if it’s got you, of all people, feeling like this.”
He searched her face as though he were trying to dig out every lie she had ever told. If it hadn’t been so cold, and had they spent a moment longer standing there in that spot with him looking down at her like that, he might have just succeeded, she realized. A few seconds later, and she may have let slip what it was she really wanted to say.
That night, Jack called Amelie into the bathroom where he’d run a bubble bath. She eyed him suggestively when he motioned toward the tub.
“I’m probably going to go to hell for this, you know,” he remarked as he slowly peeled her clothes off, took her by the hand, and lead her to the tub.
“For other things, I’m sure. But probably not for this…” s
he retorted.
He smiled, and walked to the vanity, placed his hands on the counter, and pressed his weight into them. He stood watching her reflection in the mirror. “Why didn’t we ever get together? For real, I mean,” he finally asked.
“You really want me to answer that?”
His eyes found hers in the mirror. “Yes. I do.”
Amelie let herself sink further into the water until she was submerged up to her chin. “I don’t know. I would guess it has to do with timing, mostly.”
Jack unbuttoned his shirt, slipped out of his jeans, and climbed in the bathtub. He positioned himself behind her and leaned back, resting the back of her head on his chest. They sat there like that for a long time until their bodies were shriveled.
“If I didn’t go through with it… if I don’t marry her… do you think it could ever work between the two of us?”
Amelie knew exactly how she wanted to respond, but she wasn’t sure whether to say it or not. “I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s a fair question, really.”
“Why not?” he asked.
She turned over and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Because your wedding is next month, Jack. Because you are marrying her.”
“And if I didn’t?”
“Don’t,” she said, pushing herself up abruptly. She grabbed a towel and wrapped herself in it. Jack stood and followed.
“Don’t what?” he demanded. “So… we just aren’t going to talk about it? How very typical of you, Amelie. Let’s just pretend there isn’t a hundred pound gorilla in the room,” Jack spat.
Amelie sat on the edge of the bed and put her face in her hands. “Don’t do this, Jack. Do not put this on me. It’s bullshit, and you know it. Why did you come to New Orleans? Honestly, why? I mean… to me, a man who is about to happily walk down the aisle doesn’t just look up an old girlfriend and fly out to surprise her…”
Jack paced the length of the hotel room. “I told you the reason why, already. I wanted to see you.”
“Then why not do it sooner? Why now?”