by Marilyn Grey
She was too nice. And I planned to buy her something anyway. I noticed she liked chocolate. Always had chocolate on her desk. So chocolate it would be.
I set off into the city. Walked around the block and tried to relax. The store didn't need to open by a set date, but I wanted to get it going as soon as possible to make sure I didn't lose too much money with rent payments. Seriously started to stress me out. I stressed myself out though, constantly. And I annoyed myself because I hate stress.
My phone made the sound for a new text, but I kept it in my purse and tried to enjoy the scenery. Quite different from the suburban neighborhood I grew up in. Busier, dirtier, and prettier all at the same time. I loved it though. Living right in the heart of a biggish city. Those tall buildings reaching toward the clouds made me feel small. And I liked feeling small in a world that likes being big. Something about it made me feel more alive. Kinda like a carefree kid playing in the yard versus a grown adult struggling to pay bills and make ends meet. For kids, their ends aren't hard to meet because they don't want much. At the most maybe a Batman toy. So yeah, it never hurt to have an extra reminder to stay small.
I turned a corner just as a girl—eyes glued to her phone screen—walked right into the street as cars were coming. Some businessy guy screamed, "Hey! Watch yourself!"
Her eyes shot up as a car slammed its brakes. I stood paralyzed on the sidewalk as another girl flung her body into the street and pulled the girl back to the curb. The car grazed her leg and the phone dropped.
"My phone!" the girl yelled, reaching toward the now crushed device.
"That damn phone coulda been yo ass," some guy said. "Best be countin' them lucky charms you ain't dead."
"Yeah," I agreed. "You may want to rethink your level of devotion to that thing."
The guy looked at me and swung his hand out to give me some kind of cool person handshake that—apparently—I wasn't cool enough to figure out.
The girl stared at us, shaking her head in disgust. The person who saved her already disappeared. I did one of those okay-I'll-just-scoot-on-out-of-here faces and kept walking. My phone beeped again and you better believe I kept it inside that purse. Not interested in dying for the sake of a text today.
Not that I would ... I tend to exaggerate for the sake of ... actually I don't know why. I'll get back to you on that one.
The coffee shop a few blocks over welcomed me with the delicious scent of pastries and coffee beans. I walked right into that welcoming embrace and decided since I hadn't eaten at all, maybe I'd just buy everything they had.
"Can I help you?" the woman said.
Then back to reality I went. "I'll take a brownie, one of these raspberry things, um, make that two brownies. Wait—no, three. Three brownies and a raspberry thing." Her forehead crinkled as I walked toward the register. "It's for some friends, but trust me, I could eat this entire store right now, walls and all." She didn't seem amused, so I tapped the counter and continued, "Right, so, also a large latte, a frozen hot chocolate, and an iced mocha." My phone beeped. "Oh and plenty of whipped cream on all three."
Two other employees already began to work on the order as the woman took my credit card and swiped away forty-six dollars. I meandered around while I waited and noticed a tattoo place across the street. Definitely time to get another. I adored my first one.
Alistair's voice whispered in my head and sent a chill down my neck. I shook it off.
"I'm just going to run across the street for a minute," I said to the cafe workers. "I'll be back to get those things."
I—very carefully—crossed the street and went into Dee's Tattoo Place.
"Welcome!" a very tattoo-covered girl said. "I'm Dee! I don't believe we've met."
"No. This is my first time here." I looked around at the fifties diner style decor. "Wow. Pretty retro! I like it."
"Ah." She pointed to a woman with a baby in a wrap thingy. "You can thank Ella for that. She's the queen of all things lovely."
Ella grinned and bounced the baby.
"So," I said. "How much would it cost to get something smallish on my shoulder blade?"
"Depends, but I can work with your budget."
"Oh, I'm totally willing to pay whatever. I was just trying to get an idea. Do you have any openings this week?"
"Can you come back at six?"
"Today?"
"Sure! I'm all about spontaneity. Plus I feel out of it today. Too much work. No play."
"What do you do?" the baby bouncing one said.
"I'm trying to start my own fashion line and boutique a few streets over."
"Wow! How old are you?" Dee said. "If you don't mind me asking."
"Eighteen."
"A dreamer." Ella smiled.
"Good for you," Dee said. "I could've never started that young. If you need anything let me know, okay?"
"I don't think I could've done this at my age either, but I've been seriously planning out all the steps and legal work for the last four years," I said. "I should've been paying attention in school, but I was dreaming of this. Anyway, feel free to stop by. It's called Rosalind's. I should have it up within the month. I'm finishing up the last few dresses and then we're waiting on the printer for some graphic tees."
"Sounds awesome," Dee said. "What kind of clothes do you make? Which style?"
I pulled a sample out of my purse and showed her.
Ella peeked over Dee's shoulder. "Those are so beautiful," she said. "So romantic."
"I like classic style mixed with new ideas. Taking what's been done and turning it into something that hasn't been done."
"I'll definitely check it out. I love to sew, but I wish I could make clothes like that," Ella said. "Okay, Dee. I better get going. Teaching a student at four."
"Oh," I said. "What do you teach? Art?"
"What makes you say that?"
I pointed to the paint on her finger nails. It wasn't nail polish.
She laughed. "My husband is an artist. I was just helping him out today. But I teach violin."
"Really?"
She nodded and swayed the baby. I liked these people. Very genuine and kind.
"Well, hey," I said. "How about you teach me the violin and I'll teach you to design clothes?"
"I would love that." She handed me a card. "Here's my info. Call or text whenever." She turned to Dee. "I'm so excited!"
Dee smiled. "Love ya, Ella. Tell Gavin and the kids I said hello. Miss them."
"I will." She gently squeezed my forearm. "So wonderful to meet you. Good luck and we'll talk soon."
She left and I told Dee I'd come back at six. I actually couldn't wait to come back. It was a random twist to my day and I love any kind of twist, but most especially random ones.
I grabbed the snacks and drinks and walked back to my place. Brooke eagerly took her stuff and was about as thankful as it gets.
"Where'd Han go?" I said, already sipping the last of my coffee.
She pointed behind her. "With your brother out back."
"My brother? What's he doing here?"
She shrugged and licked the brownie off of her fingers. "Got this dress finished. Let me go wash my hands and we can check it over."
"I trust you. Both of you do such great work. I'm so thankful." I glanced toward the back door. "I'm gonna go see why Eddie came."
"Eddie?"
"Yeah. Hey, if you need to get home to your husband I'm more than happy with everything you guys did today. Take a break tomorrow and Saturday and let's pick this back up on Monday."
"Sure. I don't have a husband though." She smiled and took a drink of her latte. "Single mom."
"Oh, sorry, I didn't know." I hated assuming things and getting it wrong. Or getting someone's name wrong. The worst. My entire face flushed with heat. Couldn't help it.
"Nothing to be sorry about. I got pregnant when I was seventeen. He wasn't interested in being a dad so ... it's just me and my daughter. Haven't found a guy willing to take us both yet."
&
nbsp; "Guys are so overrated."
She laughed. "You can say that again."
My phone beeped. I finally looked at it. Texts from Autumn, Zoe, Autumn, Donovan, Mom, and another email from ... him.
I put the phone away and gave Brooke a hug. "Thanks for everything. Tell your daughter to come in and see the place some time. I'd love to meet her."
"Thanks, Jane. I appreciate it."
I made my way to the back door and stepped into the blazing summer heat. Always felt twenty degrees warmer out back. No trees. No shade. I looked around and spotted Han blushing at Donovan. No Eddie.
Brooke was just about to leave when I came back in, but I stopped her. "Hey, you said Eddie was here. I don't see him now."
"No, I said your brother."
"He is my brother."
"Oh. I thought Donovan was your brother."
I smiled. "Ah, that makes sense. No. We're close, but not blood. Then again ... well, never mind. Okay, I need to get back to this dress before I lose my stamina. Thanks again, Brooke. Have a good night."
She left and I stood there. Looking at the cars as they zipped by, then glancing at the back door, then staring at the lines in the floor, then back to the door that led to ....
My brother.
Hm.
Not sure why that bothered me.
Chapter 17
I. Loved. My. Tattoo.
So, let me just tell you. Dee was amazing. Wonderful. I mean, the first tattoo artist was cool and all, but Dee? It's like she assessed my entire personality and got me the perfect, most incredible tattoo I could ever get. It's so hard to explain just how beautiful it is. So, here's a picture:
I know what you're thinking. What's so amazing about that?
Thing is ... I didn't even think to consider a Batman tattoo. I was thinking more along the lines of nifty designs and intricate thingies. But this ... this was exactly what I wanted and I just didn't know it.
It really captured what I love about Batman and how it related to my own life. So many times I felt like my own worst enemy and I think the Joker and Batman relationship shows how a hero and a villain are so similar in so many ways, like the Joker says to Batman, "I don't want to kill you. You complete me." That part of me. The villainous side. It completed me as much as I hated it. I was two people—maybe even eleven people—and I wanted to be one.
Although I couldn't see the tattoo way back there on my shoulder, it reminded me not to give in to the other parts of myself, the parts that wanted to ruin me.
It was a good thing I got the tattoo on Friday because I doubt I would've wanted to sew. The healing process isn't that bad, but I needed a break. The boutique thing was wearing me out, plus I seriously feared the grand opening and what people would say. They'd probably hate it all and walk out and all that time and all of those dreams would be a waste.
Anyway, it was now Saturday at noon and Donovan wanted me to meet him at our place. So I drove separately and we sat on the trunk of his car. Like usual. He didn't say anything for a while. We both lay there, looking at the treetops against the blue backdrop. Minutes stacked on top of each other. The sky turned darker and darker until finally he broke the silence.
"Still wanna go to Cali?" he said.
"Is that why you wanted to meet up?"
"Well, no."
"Then what?"
He leaned back and stared into the cloudy summer sky. "I just miss you."
I reclined beside him and watched as black clouds appeared in the distance. Donovan never said that before. I just miss you. Not in that tone. Normally when he dated girls I saw him a little less, but we were still best friends. This scared me. This scared me because I could tell that he felt it too. The inevitable change in our friendship.
I wondered what he'd do if I told him I wanted to be with him. If I actually did want to be with him. Like ... a serious thing. A real thing.
I turned and watched him. Eyes closed. He knew I was looking at him. His eyelids always struggled to stay closed when he knew. But I kept looking anyway.
"Jane," he said, eyes still fighting to stay shut.
"Yeah, Don?" I wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but instead I just stared at it and imagined his fingers with mine. What would it be like? To really be with someone? Was I even capable of real love?
"When we were fifteen I swore I'd open you up one day even if I had to cut you into pieces."
I somewhat laughed. "You were mad that day."
"I was." He turned his face toward me and pierced me with his serious eyes. "It was the last time you rejected me."
I looked away. "Why do you always talk about the past? Why can't we live right now without that stuff always popping up?"
"It's a part of us, Jane. It's got us here."
"Maybe I don't want to be here."
He grazed my arm with his thumb. "Jazzy."
My eyes stung and my nose got that tingly feeling that happened when I refused to let myself cry. I didn't even know why I was being emotional. It's not like I loved him like that. And my period wasn't due for another two weeks.
"Jazzy," he said. "This is exactly what I mean."
Gray clouds. Coming our way. I focused. Intensely focused. Big. Gray. Clouds. In the sky. Over me.
"You have to stop." He tapped my foot with his. "You need to stop avoiding things."
"I'd like to avoid this storm over our heads, but..."
"I promised myself and you that I wouldn't leave you until you found someone you loved more than a friend, some guy who finally won you over, or until you gave in and opened up everything you've been keeping inside." A raindrop landed on his lips. He licked it and smiled. "Jazz, I know you don't believe anything I say about girls, but I like Han."
"She's Korean. I know she's super sweet and all, but she told me she's concerned about her family's acceptance of you." I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "You're not exactly Korean."
"I don't need to think that far ahead—"
"So the future is off limits, but not the past?"
"Why does it bother you? It's not like it would be any different today. There's a reason—a hell of a lot of reasons—that I forced myself to get over you and you know that. The present is the past."
I pressed my lips together and focused on the looming storm again. I liked storms ... from inside a house. Being caught in the midst of bolts of lightning, tornadoes, or any kind of crazy disastrous weather was a major fear of mine.
"This storm," I said as my entire body seized with tension. "Maybe we should go."
"I guess what I'm saying is I want to make sure you're okay. If things change between us, will you be okay?"
"I'm fine, Donovan."
"I need to know that yo—"
"I said I'm fine."
"Fine." He sat up and swung his legs over the edge. "Just trying to love you, but obviously that's a frickin' waste of my time as usual." He jumped off the car and walked into the woods behind us.
It took me a second, but of course I went after him. I knew exactly where he'd be. Rain drops hit the leaves around me as the wind picked up. I jogged to get there faster and beat those black clouds back to my car. The rain trickled down my face and soaked into my shirt. Then it pelted the trees as their leaves unhooked and tossed to the ground. I ran faster, scared out of my mind. But I had to find him. I ran full speed, jumping over homeless branches and puddles of rain.
Thunder drummed in the background of nature's symphony. A steady, slow beat for now. I slowed down as I approached Donovan's hiding spot, but he wasn't there. Hands on my hips, lungs exhausted, I searched the area.
No Donovan.
Lightning cracked and shot through the sky, hitting a tree maybe fifty yards away from me. I breathed rapidly and froze in place. My fear wasn't irrational. I could die. Thunder rocked the sky. Move legs, move. I closed my eyes and told myself to run the hell out of there. Too many trees. Too many prime targets for a bolt of lightning. Will power, will power. One, two, GO! I spri
nted for my car. Rubber tires. Roof. Just needed to make it to the car.
I tripped and landed on my hands and knees, then grabbed my knee as the wind shoved the rain sideways at my face. I stood and tried to jog, but it looked more like I was bouncing like a cracked up Tigger. I just wanted to get to the rubber tires before another streak of lightning decided to come down and electrocute my head.
But Donovan....
Maybe he was waiting for me back at the car.
I wobbled out of the woods and stopped. Right there in my tracks. A zig-zag of light flashed in the distance, lighting the clouds as it killed the arms of another poor tree. And more thunder. Quicker now. Closer together.
But I couldn't move.
I stared at the tracks the tires made when he left....
When he left me.
In the storm.
Alone.
Hands still at my sides, I walked to my car and saw a note on the window. Ink seeped through the drenched paper, forming blue rivers that poured from each letter.
You said you were fine.
I sighed as I sat in my car and dried the note with the heater. I would save it. Just like I saved everything Donovan ever gave me. Good or bad. Sweet or angry.
I turned my wipers on and waited, hands in my lap. My phone beeped with an email. Then a text. Then another text. I turned the music up. And up. And up. Until the phone could no longer be heard. Then I drove away, over the same mud tracks Donovan's car created when he left.
Nicholas Sparks, my ass.
All of his girls get kissed in the rain.
Jane Austen?
She gets abandoned.
Chapter 18
I sat on the floor in the corner of my room. In one hand I held the letter Donovan put on my car, in the other I held the shoe box filled with stuff he'd given or written me over the years. I hadn't moved from that position since I got home. Three hours ago.
I hurt him so many times and he was the last person I wanted to hurt. Something told me I hurt him again, but I didn't understand why. He didn't love me anymore. That's what he said over and over. He got over me years ago. I remember when it happened. Things between us became more natural and comfortable. When he had a thing for me he was a little more shy and way more protective of me. If a guy so much as looked in my direction, Donovan was poised and ready for action. Not that I'd give them the time of day either.