Bridge to Fruition

by Laurie Larsen

  “No.” Her mother said the word firmly, before she’d even finished her sentence. Okay. That was decided, then.

  “Tim, whatever it is you want to talk to me about, you can say in front of Jasmine. And I’d appreciate it if you’d make it short because I need to get her back to her apartment and start following these doctor’s orders.” She held up the papers and shook them at him.

  His eyes traveled from Leslie’s to Jasmine’s and back again. He cleared his throat. Hesitated. And then, “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”

  Leslie nodded.

  “You look good.”

  “Beach living agrees with me. Always has.”

  “And you seem happy …?” It was a question because, Jasmine supposed, he hadn’t been close enough to her in the last year to form an opinion for himself about her happiness.

  “Very. And you?” Her mom was keeping it short and succinct. Very cool and calm. Jasmine was mentally taking notes, learning a technique from her mom she’d never seen her use before.

  Jasmine turned her gaze over to her father when he didn’t answer immediately. It would’ve been so easy for him to respond with a flippant, “Yeah, fine.” But he didn’t. Because he wasn’t. And as he worked through his response, she saw his thought pattern race across the expressions on his face. Her dad had never been particularly expressive. He was digging deep and trying to open up. Trying to be honest. Because deceit is what had gotten him to this place, this time. And that obviously hadn’t worked.

  He finally looked up at Leslie and focused directly on her. Jasmine had the weird impression that although she was in the room, she was no longer in the room. The energy circling around them was absorbed by just her mom and her dad.

  “Let’s just say I’m living the life I deserve.” He looked down, gathered his resolve and looked back at her, entrancing her eyes with his own. “I was awful to you, Leslie, and I never took the chance to apologize properly.”

  Her mom broke their stare and she put her free hand up, using it to wave the sentence away, dismissing the notion, even while her other hand gripped Jasmine’s arm even tighter. “No, no. No need.”

  “Leslie, please. I know you don’t need it. You’re happy and settled into your new life. Your new … husband.” He literally had to choke out that last word. “But I need to say it. Please. Just listen.”

  Leslie turned her head, looked at the floor, but gave a slight nod that was only detectable if someone was watching her closely. Which she and her dad were. Go ahead.

  Jasmine looked over at her dad, mentally urging him to go, just get it over with. Speak, man! You may not ever get this chance again.

  And still, her dad, always the slow and steady one, just stood there, forming his thoughts in his head. You woulda thought he’d already come up with the speech. Rehearsed it to pull it out when it was time.

  “Leslie, what you and I had was special. I loved you from the very beginning. We went through a lot together. You sacrificed so much. You put me through med school …”

  Leslie exhaled. “Tim …”

  He nodded, catching her meaning. “I’m sorry. I’ll get to the point. Which is this: I screwed up. Big time. I hate to think I was victim to such a cliché as a mid-life crisis. But that’s it, entirely. I was reaching my mid-forties, my mid-life, and I looked around me and saw things that weren’t there. I was bored, stuck in a rut. I wanted change, excitement.”

  Leslie opened her mouth and turned her head to him, about to speak, then changed her mind and stayed silent. Jasmine understood. She didn’t want to get into a dialogue with him. This was his closure. She’d agreed to let him speak — to get it off his chest. Mom was going to let him do just that.

  “I made the grave error of deciding I couldn’t find that change and excitement with you by my side. I was under the ludicrous opinion that I needed to find another woman to help me accomplish that. And when I did, I broke my marriage vows, and I tore my family apart. For that, I will forever be sorry. Because once it’s torn apart, it doesn’t appear that there’s any way to put that back together.”

  He paused and her mom came to the conclusion that he was done. “Is that all?” she said, an unmistakable chill in her voice.

  “No, it isn’t. I want you to know that I wronged you, and I realize it. You didn’t deserve any of this. You didn’t do anything wrong, Leslie, it was all me and my crazy ideas that what I had with you wasn’t enough, somehow. But now that it’s all gone, I’d give anything — anything I own — to get back what I had before. Your love, your respect, our partnership.” He looked frantically around the small room, raising his hands to try to drive his point home. Jasmine’s heart went out to him. “I’m alone, Leslie. I don’t say that so you’ll feel sorry for me. I deserve the lonely state of my life right now. I know that. I look at you with … him … and all the changes you made in your life to be able to make your lives together work. You gave up your life in Pittsburgh, your stable teaching job, your lifestyle. You moved to another state. And it gives me hope that someday I’ll heal and recover and find love again.”

  Mom wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the floor but she was listening. Jasmine could tell that from the single tear that trailed down her cheek and dropped to the floor. Leslie raised her free hand and wiped the moisture from her face, cleared her throat and lifted her head to look at him. “You broke my heart, Tim. You ripped it apart. I thought I had true love with you. But you threw it away as if it meant nothing. Our lives together. It meant nothing to you.”

  He took two steps closer to her, reached out for her hands, but she pulled them away. “I’m sorry. I was careless with our love, with your heart, and I’m very sorry. It took me this long to know the huge mistake I made. I’ll pay for that mistake for the rest of my life. But please, don’t ever think that I didn’t love you, or that our lives together meant nothing. You were my life, my universe, for a long time. Don’t doubt that.”

  Leslie took a long inhale of air into her lungs, held it there and sighed it out. She met eyes with Tim and shrugged. “Okay, what now? You’ve finally come to your senses. You’ve apologized. I’ve moved on, but you still broke my heart.”

  “Can you forgive me?” Unable to touch her, he leaned in closer with his upper body so their faces were only inches apart. Jasmine realized he was putting himself out there, serving up his heart on a platter to her.

  “No.” Leslie looked away.

  “No?” Her dad deflated. “But why? You’ve moved on, you said it yourself. You’re happy. You’ve won, Leslie. I’m miserable, I admit it. So why can’t I have your forgiveness?”

  “It’s not a competition, Tim. I haven’t won because I’m happy, and you haven’t lost because you’re not happy. Do you think I want that for you? No. We’ve all lost. All three of us, because of what you did to us. Hank is a wonderful man.” Jasmine couldn’t help noticing her dad’s flinch at those words but her mom soldiered on. “I’m madly in love with him, and he with me. We’re meant to be together. I love our simple life at the beach. But. I wouldn’t be there if you hadn’t done what you did. I was perfectly happy with our life too, Tim. You destroyed that.”

  Her dad’s head lowered, his gaze fixed on the white tile floor at his feet.

  “So although I’ve landed on my feet, no, I don’t forgive you for what you did. I can’t, without God’s help. I’m going to have to pray about this, asking God to get my heart to a place where I can forgive you. Because I know I should. Jesus said it in the Bible to forgive your enemies. But frankly, I haven’t spent prayers on that particular request, because I’ve had a lot of other things to pray about in the last year.”

  His words were spoken so softly, Jasmine barely heard them. “Am I your enemy, Leslie?”

  But her mom heard them because she responded quickly. “No, Tim. Not anymore.”

  And then, Leslie turned to her, plastered a big, intentional, albeit fake smile on her face and said, “Now, we need to get this
injured beauty home, and take care of her.” They took a few tentative steps toward the curtain. “Tim, we’ll see you at dinner at six thirty at the restaurant. Reservation is under Malone.”

  * * *

  Dax’s feet were starting to hurt — an occupational hazard for a licensed massage therapist who stood for hours at a time, working on loosening the muscles and joints of his clients. But add on top of that, the time he stood in the corner of Jasmine’s ER cubicle while her various parents paraded in, and now, the extended moments he’d stood in the waiting room with her stepdad, waiting for her and her mom, when they both thought they were following right behind them.

  The fact that her dad had also held back, and was missing from the waiting room as well, seemed to point to the conclusion that he had delayed the women and was probably engaging them in an uncomfortable conversation at this very moment.

  Dax looked over to Hank, and saw that he had most likely come to the same conclusion himself, and was in all likelihood, running the options through his mind. A) Let his new wife talk to her ex-husband by herself, give her the privacy she might need to try to resolve whatever outstanding issues the ex wanted to discuss. Or B) wander back to the cubicle under the guise of finding out what was holding them up, and provide the support needed by his wife to deal with a potentially awkward and uncomfortable conversation with her ex.

  So far, Hank had gone with Plan A. But from the looks of his furtive glances in the direction they had walked from, he was moments away from ditching it and executing Plan B.

  In fact, it appeared his mind was made up when he turned and took three intentional steps in that direction — just as Leslie and Jasmine entered the waiting room, lagged by Tim.

  Jasmine’s mom was all business and took over as the coordinator of the next steps. “Okay, we’re ready! Dax and Jasmine will ride in Hank’s and my car. We’ll take Jasmine back to the salon to pick up her car. Dax, do you have a car there as well?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. We’ll drop you off there. We’ll take Jasmine back to her apartment to rest. Are you feeling up to dinner, sweetie?”

  Jasmine nodded. “I think so.”

  “Okay. Reservations are at 6:30 at a place called Maxie’s Supper Club. Dax, I’ll call and increase the reservation to five if you’d like to join us.”

  Despite the family dynamic and the thought that maybe the four of them needed to be together without an outsider present, he still wanted to go. Really wanted to go. His brain knew that Jasmine only had a few days left in Ithaca before she moved away, but in his heart he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay. It’s all set.” Business done, Leslie and Hank headed for the door to the parking lot. Dax turned to Jasmine and held out a hand. She looked at it and smiled, then gripped it in her own, wrapping her fingers tightly between his.

  They reached the car and Dax opened the back door, waited for Jasmine to climb in, then scooted in after her. He reached for her hand again since it was so comfortable holding it. But then he pulled his hand back, hoping she hadn’t seen. He had a good reason for offering her a steady arm to hold onto while they walked across the parking lot. Not so much while she was seated in the car, strapped in by her seat belt. He barely knew this girl. But there was something about her that attracted him.

  Well, duh. Of course she attracted him, with her long brown hair, her healthy and happy face, her petite body, with just the right amount of curves in the right places. She was adorable. She was beautiful. He’d have to be blind not to notice.

  And yes, he’d had his chance to explore that body first hand when he’d massaged it earlier in the day. But he was professional and he’d purposely turned off the part of his mind — his libido — that recognized the intimacy with which he had been touching her. She wasn’t his to touch in that way. She had been his client — paying him for a service which he’d trained and studied and practiced for. Which just so happened to involve running his hands all over her bare body, over that soft skin, those perfect curves.

  Again, he turned off the switch in his brain that would continue going down that line of thought. Because the last thing he needed, or wanted, while he sat in the back seat with the girl, was a perfectly natural, but unwanted, physical reaction to those thoughts.

  He cleared his throat and looked down at his leg. It was so close to hers that if he moved it just a half inch to the left, their limbs would collide. He wondered how she would react. His curiosity took over and he did — moved his leg so gently and slowly that it brushed against hers. And although his was covered with the soft cotton of his uniform, hers was bare since she was wearing shorts. At his touch, she looked down at the spot of contact and then looked at him with a smile.

  And reached for his hand and pulled it into both of her own, resting them on their joined legs. He was amazed by the surge of blood his heart pumped at that moment, making him feel lightheaded. And happy.

  Why? he pondered. Why did the simple act of this particular girl holding his hand make him go almost giddy with happiness? He’d had no shortage of women in his life. In fact, his phone contacts list contained at least a dozen women’s phone numbers he could call up if he needed a date to an event, or just someone to spend a lonely evening with.

  He forced the elation out of his face, settling it into a casually happy expression and looked over at Jasmine’s face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired. Headache. But other than that, okay.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened outside the salon.”

  She shrugged. “Wasn’t your fault.”

  In a way, it was, and he’d never get over feeling that way. If he’d just let her pay her bill and leave the salon, like he did with every other client he’d ever worked on, he wouldn’t have followed her out the door, he wouldn’t have distracted her by calling her name, and she wouldn’t have gotten slammed by a passing biker.

  “Is that why you’ve stuck by my side all afternoon? Because you think this injury was your fault?”

  He froze. Tough question to answer. A variation of the one he’d been asking himself all afternoon. Why had he spent his whole afternoon at the hospital, skipping out on scheduled appointments, risking getting fired for missing his shift? Was it just because of a sense of duty? Because of guilt? Or was there more to it?

  Of course there was more to it. But how could he possibly tell her about his growing attraction to her without sounding like an idiot? Or scaring her away with the intensity of his feelings.

  “No,” he said simply. “That’s part of it, but not the only reason.”

  “You do know that I’m leaving town for good the day after tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah, you told me.”

  Her thumb rubbed back and forth over the skin between his own thumb and index finger. His gaze darted to her face, but she was looking down at their hands. He made a joke out of it. “You’ve got some skills. I could teach you how to do massage with a technique like that.”

  She laughed, and stopped the rubbing. Darn.

  They arrived at the salon way too soon for his liking, and they climbed out of the backseat. He thanked her mom and stepdad and stepped away. Jasmine followed him.

  “Thanks for everything, Dax. The massage, for calling the ambulance, and for staying with me at the hospital. It means a lot.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Please. “I’m looking forward to seeing you at dinner tonight.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah, with the crazy Malone/Harrison combined parental group.”

  He smiled. Little did she know. She may think her family was dysfunctional or a pain, or whatever. Most everyone he knew in his age group who had family members, felt that way. But it sure as heck beat not having one at all, like him. There wasn’t a single person in this world he could truly call family, other than a few people he’d stayed in touch with from his childhood in the foster care system who had made a difference, and still cared enough
to pick up the phone when he called. People complaining about their families had never made sense to him — not that Jasmine had done that. But, whoever said families were perfect? Whoever led people to believe that a group of individuals, connected by blood, would get along swimmingly without an occasional reality TV-drama moment? But it was worth it in the end to have relationships with family members.

  At least, he imagined it would be.

  “I like your parents. All of them.” He smiled. And I like you. He almost said it, but didn’t get it out before she replied.

  “Even my dad? Who tried to pay you off for helping me today? I hope you weren’t insulted by that.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. It’s obvious he loves you. He wanted to reward anyone who helped you. He wasn’t exactly sure who I was or what my relationship to you is.” What was his relationship to her, he wondered, then forged on. “That’s probably just his way, I’m guessing. Letting his money speak for him.”

  She stared at him. “You’re very perceptive. I’d never thought of it that way before but that’s exactly his way.”

  “Compared to Hank and your mom, who use love and affection instead of money to get results.”

  She grinned. “Yep. Wow. You’re going to fit right in.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Fit right in … to what?

  “Dinner tonight,” she added as if she could read his mind. Or maybe she just read his expression brought on by her words.

  “Okay,” he said, wrapping it up before he said or did anything else to embarrass himself in front of this girl, “I’ll meet you at the restaurant. If you want me to give you a ride home afterward, I’d be happy to.”

  “Thanks.”

  He waved at Leslie and Hank, turned and went into the salon. Melinda was behind the receptionist desk, her hair hanging in clumps around her face, like she’d been pulling at her locks.

  “Dax, oh my gosh, it’s about time. I had to take care of three of your appointments. Two I was able to fill with another therapist, but they were late, and had to back up their own appointments. One I couldn’t fill so I had to cancel, and she wasn’t very happy, believe me. I rescheduled her for next week. If she shows. If she doesn’t drop us and go somewhere else.” She blew a lock of hair out of her face and looked up at him. “I know you had a medical emergency with a client, Dax, but you put us in a real bind.”