by Phoebe Lane
"You got me on that."
"So what's up with you? Why were you pacing?" Aislynn asked and watched Ellie take a deep breath in.
"I'm flying to Chicago tomorrow morning to meet with my boss and tell her I'm moving here. I really don't want to quit my job, so I want to get her to let me work primarily from the west coast. I was trying to run through ideas on how to best pitch it to her."
"Want some help? I can help you brainstorm, and you can practice your delivery with me," Aislynn said, sitting back up.
"Oh, yay! That would be great."
They spent the rest of the morning drafting an oral and written proposal for her boss, and then Ellie went out to meet Evan for an early dinner at the bar. Jace had left town earlier that day for a conference in Portland, and Aislynn finally found herself alone at home.
She took a long hot shower, trying to relax and prepare her mind for a night of writing. She was way behind on the goals she had set for herself the last time she had met with Lana, and it was making her nervous.
She sat at the computer and read over the last few pages she had written. She reviewed her outline and started writing. It only took her a few minutes and about five hundred words before she felt like throwing her laptop against the wall and deleting everything she had written so far—not just the last few paragraphs, but the whole damn thing. Instead, she closed her eyes, took several deep breaths and opened up a new document. She started writing about the things that were weighing on her mind, thinking that once she put them down on paper, she would be able to let them go and concentrate on her novel.
She first wrote about what had happened with Pam that weekend and, like a free-fall, she wasn't able to stop after that. She went back in time and wrote about her childhood: her dad, New York, Ellie, her parents' divorce, and Christopher. She eventually lost track of time and her only clues that she had been at it for a while were the half dozen empty bottles of water on her desk, her battery-drained cell phone, and a concerned Ellie calling out her name over and over from behind her.
"Aislynn…Aislynn!" Ellie nearly shouted.
"Hey, Ellie. Where are you off to?" she asked casually, unable to look up from her computer screen.
"The airport," she said, somewhat exasperated.
"I thought you said you were leaving tomorrow."
"It is tomorrow already."
Aislynn looked up and noticed Ellie was wearing different clothes than what she had worn to dinner with Evan, and her hair…
"Your hair is brown!" Aislynn half-screamed, then looked around the apartment, feeling disoriented and lightheaded. "When did that happen?"
"Yesterday, before—oh, never mind," Ellie said with a roll of her eyes. She moved toward Aislynn with caution, the way you would approach a scared wild animal to prevent it from attacking. "Aislynn, sweetie, you've been up all night. You've been writing for over twelve hours now."
"Wait…what time is it?" Aislynn asked, looking down at her computer clock, and gasped.
On the other corner of the screen she saw the word count on the document she was working on and almost fell out of her chair. She had written over thirty thousand words, and she couldn't explain how it had happened. It had all spilled out without rhyme or reason, almost instinctively.
"Whatever you have there, save it and send it to your editor right now," Ellie said, looking over her at her screen.
"What? No! This isn't part of the novel," Aislynn said, pressing her palms into her eyes, all of a sudden feeling the exhaustion overtake her. "I had some things I needed to get off my chest. I guess it got out of control."
"It may not be part of the novel you've got planned out in your head, but it's obviously important. Send it to Lana, just in case," Ellie said and stared at Aislynn, expecting some kind of rebuttal but getting nothing. "It may be therapeutic to let someone else read it. I would be more than happy to do it, but I must warn you that if this is about your mom, I absolutely refuse to be objective about it."
Aislynn opened her mouth several times to answer, but her brain couldn't form any coherent words. "I swear I have a witty, smart-ass response to your comment, but I'm running on fumes and it's not coming out."
"Great. Now, send the email and go to sleep."
"Argh. You're…you're…infuriating," Aislynn snapped.
"That's it? That's the best you can come up with? God, you are exhausted," Ellie said with a chuckle, and wheeled her luggage toward the door. "Please remind Jace that the guestroom furniture is being delivered this afternoon."
"Oh, damn it. I forgot about that," Aislynn said, standing up from the table. "He's going to be in Portland until tomorrow night. He asked me to be there to receive it. I got it; don't worry."
"All right, then. But get some sleep before you drive there."
"Yes, Mom," Aislynn quipped.
"I'm sincerely offended."
"Sorry, it's all I could come up with," Aislynn said and hugged her. "Have a safe flight, and good luck with your meeting. Call me as soon as you get an answer back from your boss."
"Okay, I will."
Aislynn made some coffee and ate a piece of toast before texting Jace to check in and tell him about her all-nighter. She took a shower and got ready for bed, all the while thinking about Ellie's suggestion to send her latest work to Lana.
On impulse and without even taking time to edit, she emailed a five thousand word excerpt to her editor. Fifteen minutes later, she received a text back.
I'm halfway through. Send me more. We need to meet and talk ASAP.
Oh, no. What have I done?
"So how much were you able to sleep?" Jace asked on the phone.
"I think I got about four hours. My editor kept texting and calling me insistently, and I finally got up to take her phone call. She wants to meet with me next week when she comes into town again," Aislynn said as she walked into Jace's house, wishing she would find him sitting at the breakfast bar or lounging in the living room, preferably without a shirt on.
"Did she say any more about what she wants from you?"
"Not really, but I suspect she wants me to focus on writing this and not the novel for a while. I really don't know if I can commit to that, though. I mean, it's my life—it's just so personal and revealing."
"You can always change the names of the characters, and use a pen name," he suggested, but failed to get a response back. "Aislynn…Aislynn? Are you still there?"
"Yeah, sorry. I just walked by your dining room table and got lost in thought. Between the birthday celebration and what we did there Sunday morning, I think I've fallen in love with that thing," she said and heard Jace bust out in laughter. "I kind of lost control of myself there that night, didn't I? I remember being very, umm, vocal."
"Yes, you were. And for the record, I like the no-control-and-vocal Aislynn," he said, his voice smooth and tantalizing.
"All right! Don't you get me started, Mr. I-want-to-hear-you-scream," she quipped back.
"I always want to hear you scream with pleasure. That's one of my favorite parts."
Aislynn could hear the smile in his voice and felt her inner muscles involuntarily contract and her heart rate accelerate. The doorbell rang before she could come up with a proper answer.
"The furniture people are here. Let's continue this later?" she asked.
"I have to go to a meeting here in a few minutes, and I'll probably be busy until late tonight. If I don't catch you later, I'll call you tomorrow morning."
"Okay. I love you," she whispered, sadness falling over her. She seriously missed him terribly when he was gone.
"I love you, babydoc. See you in a few days."
Aislynn let the delivery guys in and showed them to the guest room. Ellie had sent her detailed emails with instructions on where the different pieces of furniture needed to go. They came complete with angles and measurements.
And here I thought OCD wasn't contagious.
Aislynn stayed in Jace's house for a few hours, some of the things sh
e had been writing about refusing to leave her head. She hated that most of the memories she had brought back up to consciousness were mostly colored with sorrow and heartbreak. She realized exhaustion was probably contributing to her rapidly declining mood, so she decided to go home and sleep through the rest of the evening, needing to clear her head and shake off the darkness that had suddenly taken over her.
As Aislynn walked toward her apartment door, she suddenly felt the pressure in the air drop, and her ears started ringing. She felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach that bordered on nausea.
Oh, no, no, no. Hell, no.
"No, no, no," she said out loud, searching for her keys in the bottom of her purse and trying to ignore the person sitting on her porch.
"I need to talk to you," he said softly, getting up from the floor and wiping the back of his pants with his hands.
"No, no, no."
"I really need to talk to you," he insisted.
"Go away, Christopher."
"Please, Aislynn," he said with a little more attitude than what he should've been using, considering he was trying to beg for her time.
"You know what, Christopher? I've been cleaning house lately and telling people that don't bring anything good into my life to go to hell. So, please, don't tempt me, 'cause I won't hesitate to add you to the list," Aislynn snapped as she opened her door. She tried to slam it closed behind her, but Christopher snuck into the apartment before she had a chance to do so.
"Are you kidding? Get out," Aislynn warned him.
"You've really got to turn down the anger switch. It's not good for you," Christopher said, and Aislynn's insides flamed once again into a roaring fire.
"You know what's not good for me? Having you follow me around everywhere. How do you know where I live? Why are you back here? What the hell do you want from me now? Haven't you screwed with me up enough? Do you really need to come back to push the dagger in even deeper? Newsflash—it can't go in any deeper, so stop trying."
By this point, Aislynn was screaming and holding back the urge to throw something at him. She had never felt so out of control in her life, and she didn't like it one bit.
"What the hell is the matter with you? This isn't you. Have you completely lost it? You don't scream at people, you don't tell people off, you don't abandon your mother and send her packing back home without an explanation, and you don't screw guys out in balconies for the whole world to see!" he yelled.
I was wrong. There was space for the dagger to go in deeper, after all.
"Fuck you, Christopher!"
"Do you really think you're in love with him, huh? That what you feel for him is true love?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets and walking around the living room like he owned it. "I know how your mind works, love. You've always wondered if you really know what true, unconditional love is, because Pam never gave you that kind of love and she never taught you how to give it back.
"Well, you know what? You're just like her—all wrapped up in your own inner world, no idea about what the hell is going on around you half the time. No wonder you had to quit your job. I mean, how can you do your job adequately if you can't even understand what's going on with the people you're closest to?"
That was the moment Aislynn's mind disconnected from her body. The last thing she registered was the sound of breaking glass seconds after she threw a vase at Christopher that landed square in the middle of the living room wall.
Jace walked out of the airport and to his car, happy that he had made it back home a whole day early. He had told Aislynn he would be busy with meetings, but he had caught an earlier flight home instead. He planned to surprise her the next morning with breakfast and a trip up the coast.
Once home, he checked out the new furniture in the guest room and then started undressing to get into the shower. He was very surprised to hear the doorbell ring, followed by a persistent knock.
It's one in the morning. What the hell?
Nothing could have prepared him for who was waiting for him on his doorstep.
"What the hell are you doing here, Chloe?" he asked, holding the door ajar.
"Jace, finally! I needed to see you," she said with a noticeable slur and a heavy smell of alcohol on her breath.
"Please, just go away. You're drunk," he said, and motioned to close the door when he noticed her car was parked behind his. The back of it was sticking halfway out into the street, and the headlights were still on. "You drove here like this? Are you crazy?" he snapped and pulled her keys forcefully from her hands.
"Please let me talk to you. Please, Jace," she begged. She tried to touch his face with her hand, but only managed to stumble forward and almost fall as he pulled back to avoid her touch.
"Damn it!" he said under his breath. "Sit down, and don't move," he ordered, and watched her clumsily sit down on the floor and take off her shoes. Jace walked over to her car, parked it on the curb, and walked back to his doorstep. "You're not driving home like this. I'm calling you a cab."
He walked her into the house and got his phone to find the number for a cab company. Chloe threw herself down on the sofa and started crying.
Oh, hell.
He walked over to the living room and sat on the coffee table in front of her. "Please stop crying," he whispered.
"I'm so sorry, Jace," she wailed. "I'm sorry for showing up like this. I'm sorry for showing up at that party…and I'm so sorry for leaving you when you needed me."
"Stop it, Chloe. I don't need any of this from you anymore. I don't want any more blocked calls in the middle of the night, no more texts, no showing up at the office. Just stop it all."
"But I need to tell you this. I realize now what I did to you, and I hate myself for it. I see it now. I see it," she said, tears rolling down her face, her makeup smeared down her cheeks and on her dress.
"What happened to you? Why are you coming to these conclusions all of a sudden?" he pressed, not ashamed of being suspicious of her intentions.
"I…My dad…He's dying. He had a stroke. He's been in the hospital for months, trying to learn how to talk, and how to walk, and how to do everything he knew how to do before," she said, and grabbed his hands. "It's killing me. I wasn't there for you when you needed my help, my support. I see it now," she repeated, and lowered her head. "He had another stroke a few days ago. He's in a coma, and we're going to let him go."
Jace took a deep breath and turned their hands around so that he ended up holding hers. "I'm sorry for what your dad's going through, and for what this is doing to you and your family, but don't you see how wrong this is? You're not here for me; you're here because of him."
"No…no! I still love you. I'm here because I still love you, and I want to ask for your forgiveness for what I did to you," she said, her eyes swollen from crying and halfway closed. Her speech had gotten heavier and harder to understand.
"We can't do this right now," he said with an exhale, and stood up.
This whole course of events was frustrating him to no end. Chloe fell back on the sofa, her eyes closed, and her body curled up around one of the cushions. By the time Jace decided that calling a cab at this hour and trying to get her home under these conditions wasn't proper, she had passed out on the sofa.
He went back to his room and texted Aislynn to let her know what had happened, asked her to please call him in the morning, and promised to explain everything else then. He didn't really expect an answer back as he realized she must be sleeping, but he wanted to make sure she was aware of what was going on.
It was hard for him to find his own sleep that night. Dreams about his time in the hospital and the horrible days he would have post chemo kept waking him up. At around five thirty in the morning, he finally gave up on sleep, and went to take a shower. He checked his phone and found a text from Aislynn with a simple "okay" that had come in at about four.
He walked out into the living room, his hair still wet from the shower, hoping Chloe was up and sober enough to go home. He w
anted her out of his house and out of his life as soon as possible. The scene he found before him paralyzed him on his tracks.
He first noticed Chloe, standing in the kitchen, wearing one of his button-down shirts, her hair wet and pulled back into a ponytail. She had a glass of water in her hand, her eyes focused on the person standing by the door.
Aislynn.
Her face was pale white, her body still as a rock, and her eyes locked in on Chloe's face. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, the dark circles under her eyes visible even from where he was standing. The only things she held in her hands were her car keys, and they were trembling softly.
"Hey," he said, confused about what was happening before him.
"What's going on?" Aislynn asked, her voice hoarse and strained.
"I thought you were gonna call me," Jace said, worried now about the expression on her face.
Aislynn glanced over at Chloe and watched her pull out a stool from the breakfast bar. Chloe sat directly across from her, her legs slowly crossing and revealing she was only wearing panties underneath her shirt.
"You clearly have some things going on here. I'm gonna go," Aislynn said, walking backward toward the door.
"Wait! Let me explain," Jace said, his feet planted solidly in place, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening.
"You don't have to explain. It's fine. We're good. I'll see you later, Jace," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She slammed the door behind her before he could reach it.
He ran after her, and stopped her before she was able to open her car door. He let out a deep breath and pulled at his hair in frustration.
"What the hell is going on with you?" he asked, his tone harsher than what he intended. He regretted it the moment he saw the anger set in Aislynn's eyes.
"Nothing's going on with me. I just…I have to go," she said, getting into her car and speeding off.
What the hell is going on?
Jace rushed back into the house and found Chloe drinking her water comfortably in the kitchen, not a hair out of place, not a worry line in her face.