Is he real? He is the one who started this by mentioning Brandon in the first place. “Your little messenger!”
The cab pulls up to the studio gates, and I tip the driver triple the fare for his trouble. The second I am out the door I begin stomping my way across the lot. My phone buzzes again.
“Umm … I think something may have gone wrong.”
Oh, you bet it has.
A guy in a golf cart pulls up and offers me a ride to my trailer. I’m so agitated I want to lash out and bark no at him, but that is not me. Anger is counter productive to anything even remotely constructive. Right now, all it would do is hurt a nice man’s feelings.
I thank him and hop in. As we ride, the cool air whips up my nostrils and helps me clear my head enough to further see I am not being myself. Something is bringing out the worst in me, and I won’t allow it to hurt others.
I also have to question what has me so riled when I have held it together for so long. Two weeks ago I thought I was pregnant. I’ve since struggled with telling Jason, lost a baby, and got devastating news of Jason’s deceit—all of which brought me to see what a disaster he and I were and got me longing for something better. Regardless, I held on even though I knew I shouldn’t. Then he proposed and …
Tears well in my eyes, changing the reason for the burning in my cheeks from anger to hurt. Jason and I were once so in love. Everyone said we were a dream couple, and it seemed they were right. I miss the smiles we shared. When I really think about it, we were never perfect, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy. I miss being happy.
Dammit, I want to believe his proposal was genuine. Any other time and any other way, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. Instead, the moment I dreamt of for so long was a circus. I haven’t let myself think about anything other than the drama because the reality of facing Jason and I ended long ago will shatter me.
The nice man drops me off, and I hide my eyes while wishing him a good day. My tears blur the ground and obscure the stairs leading into my trailer. Opening the door makes me feel I am entering a void. I used to be so grateful for this job. Now I don’t know that I want to be here anymore.
Flipping on the light brings another jab to my heart as I find a bouquet of flowers on my coffee table. For days I felt Jason has been trying to wear me down. As much as I need to be true to my resolve, a part of me is not so sure that caving is very far off. The pain of this situation is exasperating. Everything about it hurts. It also causes me to get drawn to the folded sheet of paper tucked into the bouquet that begs, “Please read me.”
Footsteps race up my stairs. I look to the door and see Jason stop in the threshold. When our eyes meet, the redness in his tosses on another layer of heartache. Being disappointed in someone is one thing, but facing him is another, especially when all you see is pain in his eyes.
He looks to the flowers. Solemnly his words come out, “I guess they made it after all.” I feel him fight the urge to talk about all the things we don’t have time to now. “Please, read the note.” He turns to leave. “I hope we can finish this at home after work.”
Hearing his shoes as they slowly thunk down the steps reminds me that all we have been through in the last few days is nothing compared to the rest of our story. With trepidation, I begin reading.
“I’ve always been a dreamer. Somewhere along the line I forgot the dream I had in you was as important as all the other ones I hold so dear, and I lost sight of how much I love you.”
Foolish as I feel for it, his words deepen the cracks in my breaking heart. It wasn’t all that long ago Jason and I had something worth cherishing.
“I hear you, loud and clear. When we get home, let’s settle this on the best terms possible. I love you, and I am so, so sorry things went the way they did. My heart may be broken, but neither of us can hurt any longer.”
The truth hits—just because we are done doesn’t mean it isn’t going to hurt. I thought the drama Jason put me through erased my pain, but remembering how much we have loved each other and the experiences we have shared tells me I am wrong.
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
The distress brought on by a few days of problems hardly overshadows the pain of breaking up with someone with whom I have shared so much. It’s not a question of if I love Jason, but more a matter of accepting how we fell from grace.
Jason’s key slips into the lock on our front door. When he enters, “Hey,” said with downcast eyes tells me he is resigned to whatever salt I am about to pour in his wounds. The Jason I know would be hopeful of reconciliation. But this guy here … He’s hurting and is as done with this relationship as I am. Where did we go wrong?
My heart sours as it comes to accept more of the truth. “You were actually serious about the proposal, weren’t you?”
Finally, I get eye contact—his red and burning ones to my sad ones—and I wish his eyes had stayed hidden. “Yes.”
My hands flick out—a muted tossing them up in bewilderment. “How could you possibly think the way you did it was acceptable?”
How he looks lost over what to say has my body feeling weighted. Giving up isn’t something Jason Day does lightly. “I did it for us,” he utters. His sincerity stabs my heart. “For so long, you wanted to get married and start a family. I kept promising it would happen, yet every time we talked about it I found myself pushing the date back. When I leveled with you, I was forced to accept what I did wasn’t some career-minded game like everything else I do. I hurt a person I love because I was selfish. I should have known better.”
“And yet you expected me to say yes?”
He sighs and tosses his keys onto the stand by the door. “Yeah, power of positive thinking and all.”
I don’t get him. “Why were you suddenly so eager to get a ring on my finger if it wasn’t a stunt?”
Jason scrapes his hand across his face as if slipping from wallowing in sorrow into fighting back frustration. “Because I had to jump in or risk losing you. We both said so many times us getting married was a sure deal that I never expected a proposal to backfire. Besides, after all those years of me pushing back, taking advantage of the opportunity for some publicity seemed the only way to make it up to you.”
“Me?” Is he kidding?
“Yes,” he says with his tone growing firm, “it was the best of both worlds—move forward with the life we dreamed of while getting some attention. Remember, the plan to put our careers first was your idea.”
“Oh, please! I never said that.” This man needs to look in a mirror.
Jason’s eyes go aflutter with disbelief. “Are you kidding? When we first got serious about our relationship, we set up a plan. You said you— Never mind.”
“Never mind what?”
“You know,” he states strongly, “and I don’t think you want me to say it.”
My hands fly out as I hope to grab understanding of what the hell he is talking about. “Know what?”
“Really, Katherine, who are you? You said you owed it to someone to have a successful career. Only then could you move on with your life. So yeah, when that wasn’t happening, I pushed the date back, but you were the one who came up with the plan.”
Whose idea it was isn’t the issue. “Yes, but I had a time frame.”
Jason steps toward me, and although his approach is physically non-threatening, emotionally I feel he is about to put me in my place. “No, I gave it a timeframe. When the goal didn’t get met I extended it so you wouldn’t freak out. There are three reasons behind everything I do. One, we have to strike while we are hot. Two, we don’t want to be stuck in the shadow of this show for the rest of our lives. Three, you, as you often remind me, don’t exactly have forever. When everything came to the surface about me, not only was I afraid you would bail, I was also afraid you would lose it over how far you still were from your goals. Since we planned to marry anyway, I tried to get some publicity in hopes of boosting your career. Face reality, Katherine. All that stuff I said a moment ag
o, when it sounded as if I were blaming myself, was me, again, sheltering you from who you are and the decision you made.”
I stare straight at him yet miss all in my sight. In some distorted way, Jason thinks he has been protecting me and uses that as a reason to justify his deceit. What kind of depraved relationship do we have? Have I been dodging reality and don’t see it, or is he cowering from his actions? “If you are looking out for me so much, not to mention the fear of my having a meltdown, why are you bailing on the show?”
He shakes his head at me and then sucks in his bottom lip and eyes the room. Whatever comes out next is going to be a doozy. “You’ve just proved my point by not stepping back and seeing the full picture again. Stop to think how my leaving puts you in the spotlight. The show’s focus is on a love triangle in which my character provides the tension. Take away me and you have a boring love story. The logical thing is to kill that whole love element while strengthening the pivotal character—meaning you. Bam! I’m on the A-list, and you are now the true star of the show.”
Why won’t he admit quitting is what is best for him? “This isn’t the same story you tried to sell me the other day.”
“Do you really want to hear I am setting you up so the career boost you get is not the one you want?”
No, not at all, but much like how I know he was hedging his bets when he tried to work an angle with the producers, I also know in this business one person’s loss is another’s gain. That’s just the way it works. Besides, I am convinced the show will tank when he leaves. His being a guest star could give us a saving boost.
“Right or wrong,” he continues, “I did it for us.” He hangs his head and shakes it. “I really thought I was doing the right thing, which is why I tried to get Bailey to side with me. When I couldn’t, I knew all hope was lost. I should have called the press then and there, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” He quickly adds in, “I swear Katherine, I absolutely swear I did not contact the producers. They called me when the story broke.”
I want to believe him, and I would if it were not for one thing. “What about your messenger?”
He snickers, but there is no sign of amusement anywhere near him. “The flowers? I needed something to act on my behalf. I couldn’t admit we were done to your face, so I had to find another way to let you know I backed off.”
Backed off? The bouquet was the messenger? Oh no. “You didn’t send someone?” Oh, that poor man in the cab. I don’t think I’ll ever get his expression of shock out of my mind. In my defense, kicking him out was probably for the best. Towards the end, he really was sounding a little off.
Jason looks oddly at me. “No, I put them in your trailer when I got in. From the sound of your text, I thought you were upset about it, so I came running as soon as I could get away.” He now looks as if he fears he has offended me and races to plead his case. “I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing by going into your trailer, but it was bad enough I had to say those things in a note. I couldn’t let someone else deliver it.” Jason gives himself just enough of a moment to beef up his resolve. “Anyway, your messages made it clear you are done. After seeing the big picture, I am more than ready for that myself. I’m going to grab a few things and get out of here.”
Maybe I am a fool, but now I truly believe Jason thought his reasons were legitimate. How could I ever think he would send someone into the cab like that? Jason knows when to play cards, and he may stack the deck, but he would never show his hand or intentionally do anything to hurt someone. The fact I would think he would stoop so low shows we have no business being together.
After clearing all the drama and sifting through mind games, the truth of our situation sinks in. What hurts most about saying goodbye to the man I once thought I would spend my life with is that, in light of my revelations over what a mess we are, breaking up doesn’t hurt much at all. “Take your time,” I tell him while I head for the door.
I always knew I was driven, but I thought that between the two of us, Jason was the bulldozer. While I question the validity of much of what he has said, he is right; I’m just as bad.
I reach for the knob, and Jason’s gentle touch to my arm finally conveys the deep understanding I have always longed for. “Hey, we are not bad people. We just have our priorities wrong.”
Jason has made a lot of decisions involving me based on personal assumptions—so many that I can no longer venture to guess who is right. All I know is I don’t like how Jason sees me, and if that is how I really am, I need to make changes. Our problems are a two way street. When you blend toxins, the effects of the fumes can sneak up on you. I don’t want to be toxic any more.
We show solidarity in knowing it is time to move on—me by stepping out the door, him by closing it behind me, and both of us by quoting the words I posted on Facebook about our situation. “I wish you the very best.”
Strength To Endure
I don’t get it. I still just don’t get it.
Yesterday, everything came together, and I shared everyday small talk with Katherine while my heart fluttered all over the place. I watched my every move to make sure I didn’t say anything stupid. Hell, I was even upset at myself for not having the foresight to polish my boots. Then, completely out of the blue, she thrust her phone in my face and got indignant, all while babbling about Jason.
I park my car in Endeara’s lot, shut it off, and fall back into the seat. She had to have me confused with someone else. Regardless, I didn’t help matters any. All I could think to do was spew out clues I hoped would resonate. Given her tone when she told me to go away, I’m surprised she didn’t call me a freak. I can only begin to imagine what she would have called me if I told her I had been hearing her. Besides, that cabbie probably would have beaten the crap out of me.
Dammit, I just want to be happy again. I’m a nice guy with at least half a brain. I have a well-paying job, and I don’t think I am the ugliest guy who ever existed. Even if I were, I only want to be the person who makes someone smile when life goes haywire. Tell me, God, how is that too much to ask?
I look up for answers and get the same silence I always do. Yet again, the insanity I have found myself in leaves me to fend alone. However, I am damn grateful that I haven’t heard a peep out of Katherine. If I thought I was being driven crazy before …
But there was so much more to it. Every bit of madness, every visit to Jennifer, every time I looked at that damn cheese, brought me hope. Reality sucked, and if a fantasy was all I could have, I subconsciously embraced it. Although there was at least some truth behind my experience, I have no choice but to think of it as a dream, else I will forever know what I have lost. I’m not only saying goodbye to another person my heart longs for, I am burying the part of myself that created my perfect love.
I pull the rock I found at the beach out of my pocket and rub its jagged edges. My throat squeezes as I force myself to face it is time to reinvent part of me again. It is also time to walk through Endeara’s doors and brave my inescapable reality as it slaps me in the face.
I don’t let myself form another thought before bolting into work. Knowing what to expect only grants a small amount of comfort. Behind the reception desk sits a woman I have never met yet I once saw in a vision. If Darla hadn’t told me that Bailey worked with Katherine, my mind would melt from the madness of her appearing before me.
Whatever. Katherine rolled her eyes at the mention of Bailey, telling me that I probably value Bailey more than she does based on her association to Darla.
I’m two steps into the lobby when Darla slips up from behind and links arms with me. “Welcome back!” she blurts out. She then whispers, “You okay?”
I lean in and whisper a lie, “Yes, I’m much better,” and then look her dead in the eyes to tell her the truth. “Thank you for being concerned. I appreciate it.”
Without letting myself think about it, I spin around and extend my jittery hand to Bailey. Even though all has crashed and burned, she knows the woman who inva
ded my dreams and made my heart sing. That makes her similar to royalty. “Hi, Bailey. I’m Brandon.”
I have a zillion things I want to ask her. There are even a few I should, such as if she is exhausted from flying in last night after working yesterday, and is there anything I can do to help her get settled. Instead, I stand like a fool—a smart fool who can’t get in trouble if he doesn’t open his mouth.
Bailey returns the greeting. My eyes lock on our hands as they shake. If Bailey saw Katherine after the run-in we had, does it mean she knows about the freak in the cab? Man, I wish I could comprehend how one tiny misunderstanding could appear from nowhere and shatter so much.
A chill creeps up my spine. That reminds me of how Amber’s life was taken in an instant no one saw coming. Life is a delicate chain of events leading to fate. One broken link and all of the pretty trinkets fall off.
But what happens if two chains break and different halves are seared together? Would they transform into a new path? Maybe I should ask Bailey about her old job, and that will somehow lead to fixing things with Katherine.
No, because Darla already knows about my Vampires Undercover marathon. If she starts putting all this together and the freak in the cab, who also happens to be named Brandon, comes up in conversation, I’m screwed. There are far better things it would be wiser to do, such as try to scale Mount Everest while relying on the strength of a spool of thread. Regardless, I can’t stand here like an idiot.
A crust and dust covered binder bearing the Endeara Candies logo sits on the sign-in counter and catches my eyes. The thing looks as if it is about fifty years old, if it’s a day. “What’s this?”
“Our formula book,” Darla says as if it is as common as the Yellow Pages.
“Formula book?” I ask. “That sounds valuable. Why is it sitting on the sign-in counter?”
Darla bows to Bailey in a signal for her to take over. How Bailey rolls her eyes tells me she is already in disbelief over this place. “The plant manager left it there yesterday afternoon and told Darla not to move it. Apparently, he needs to do some research and things on his desk get ignored. Thus, he asked her to ‘tell the new girl’ to give it to him first thing this morning.”
Voices Carry: A Rock and Roll Fantasy (The Rock And Roll Fantasy Collection) Page 18