by Lisa Shelby
Finally, I try to come to his rescue, and mine.
“Baby girl, let’s give Jonathan a break. Tell him thank you for bringing our things over for Uncle Mick, but he probably needs to get going now.”
He looks up at me, and I feel the blush flooding my cheeks. I hope that he can’t read my mind, and that he didn’t hear the sharpness that came out in my tone. It wasn’t intentional, but I heard it. I just hope he didn’t.
While they were having the chat of their life, my mom came home and has just walked back into the room when Jonathan stands form the couch and addresses her.
“Hey Cheryl, do you mind if I borrow Emily for a little bit?”
“I don’t mind a bit, Jonathan,” mom replies.
“Is it okay if we leave Ireland with you while we go for a walk?”
“Of course not, you two take your time. Ireland and I are gonna have a little snack and start a movie.”
He turns his attention to me and asks. “Do you mind if I steal you for a little bit?”
Suddenly I feel scared to death but in a totally different way. I can tell he wants to talk, but after he basically just sat here and ignored me I’m wondering what he wants to talk about. I want nothing more than to be alone with him, but I’m afraid to hear what he has to say.
“Sure, let me go grab my coat and we can go for a walk?”
“Sounds good.”
I walk over to Ireland, give her a high-five and tell her to listen to her grandmother. Jonathan is right behind me and helps me slip my hoodie on. Always the gentleman, he opens the door for me.
The moment we’re outside and the door is shut, he pulls me into a huge hug and he holds me so tight I can barely breathe. After several minutes of holding each other without speaking, he releases me and then cups my face like he always does before a kiss. As I am preparing to feel his lips on mine, he surprises me when he says, “I want nothing more than to kiss you until you can’t breathe, but we need to talk first. I have some things I need to say.”
He lets go of my cheeks, takes me by the hand and we start walking. We don’t say anything for quite some time. He leads us across the street to a little park, and we find a somewhat private picnic table to stop at. We both sit on the top of the table and Jonathan takes my hand in his. We turn to face each other and I give him my full attention. I don’t speak because I can tell this is something that he feels he needs to do, and so I let him guide us through this.
He looks to the side and exhales a big breath before returning his eyes to mine. Even with the uncertainty that is on his face, he is still the most beautiful man I have ever encountered, and I cannot believe I’m fortunate enough to have him in my life. He gives my hand a squeeze and begins.
“Emily, I am so sorry. I am so sorry for pushing you away. I was a mess. Hell, I probably still am, but I thought I was doing what was best for you and Ireland. When I found out that Bob was killed on that call, everything that happened with Matt came rushing back, and with that came all the feelings about not being there for my mom. Bob was yet another person that I let down. Knowing I was going to have to face his wife and look into her eyes knowing that she knew it was my fault that her husband wasn’t here anymore, was more than I could handle. I was drowning in guilt and self-pity. I kept telling myself that I didn’t deserve you in my life, and that if I let you in I clearly wouldn’t be able to take care of you like you deserved to be. I seem to let down everybody I care about.”
I try to step in and speak, but he doesn’t give me the chance before he continues.
“I know I was wrong to push you away without an explanation, but I was a mess. You had finally made all my dreams come true, told me you loved me, and what do I do to thank you? I push you away and then drink myself into oblivion. I told myself that if I truly loved you I would remove myself from your life. I would do anything for you, even if that meant walking away from you. I was wrong. I can’t walk away from you. The thought that I wasn’t with you when you were being terrorized by this scumbag is something I will never forgive myself for. I would give my life for you and Ireland. I hope you know that? I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I know I was wrong. I also know that when I’m without you, I’m miserable. You are it for me, Emily, I just want you. I don’t care about anything else but you and Ireland. I love you so much and I am so sorry.”
By the time he’s done talking he’s no longer looking at me. He’s looking down at our joined hands. I can tell he feels almost worthless over all of this, and it is breaking my heart. It’s my turn to make sure things are clear from my end for a change.
“Are you done?” I say with all the confidence I can muster. His eyes pop up to mine, clearly surprised by my reaction. With a nod of his head he tells me he’s done talking, but he looks a little scared to hear what I have to say.
“Good, it’s my turn now.” I say locking eyes with him. I want to be sure he hears what I have to say. “These last couple of weeks you may have been a mess, but guess what, Jonathan? You’re my mess. Isn’t that what we said? I am yours and you are mine. You are my mess and it’s my job to help you get through the tough times. You have been helping me get through all of this crap going on with me, and it’s my job to do the same for you. You have made me see myself for the very first time, and to realize that I do deserve to be loved and cared for. By you. You have made me trust somebody besides myself for the first time in a very long time, baby. You say you’re a mess but I think you are a kind, amazing, funny mess that makes me and my little girl feel safe, cared for and most of all happy.” With a wink and a careful smile, I add. “You aren’t too bad to look at either.”
I see the first smile I’ve seen since our words of love in the hospital, and I can see some of that weight lift off of his shoulders as I continue.
“Let me be there for you like you’re always there for me. Next time don’t walk away from us. You and me, remember? Life is always going to throw us curve balls, and it will be hard, but you can’t walk away. Honey, what you have been through is more than any one person should have to deal with, but let me help you when you feel it’s all too much. I love you, Jonathan, like I have never loved anybody else. I need to know that you aren’t going to walk away. That is something that I can’t live in fear of. I have always built up my walls to avoid being left because I have always thought that I wasn’t enough. You make me feel like I’m enough, Georgia. We can get through anything as long as we walk through it together. Promise me that if we do this you aren’t going to walk away again.”
I can tell that this isn’t what he was expecting. Was he expecting my rejection? I hate that he really thought I would quit on him or us. I can see in his eyes that he really didn’t expect the words that I have just given him. I see my words slowly sink in and his face starts to relax.
“Gracie, I need to kiss you . . . now.”
With the words on his lips he leans forward, and in the way he knows I love, he gently strokes his thumb over my cheek. With his big hands engulfing my face, he finally kisses me! He starts gentle, but within seconds the gentle is gone. We are both kissing each other with a fierceness that is unlike anything we’ve experienced before. Without even realizing it, my legs are wrapped around his waist and I am in his lap. After a while we both need to come up for air, and while we gather ourselves he places small kisses on the corners of my mouth, my forehead, my chin, my nose and both cheeks. I have never felt so cherished.
“Baby, I promise you I will never walk away again. I will never hurt you again as long as I live. I don’t know if I am worthy of your love or your forgiveness, but it makes me feel like more of a man than I have ever felt to know that you are giving me both. I love you so damn much, Gracie. I love you so much it scares the shit out of me. I don’t ever want to let go of us.”
“Don’t let go then.”
And there it is . . . one of those precious dimples pops out and I feel like all is right in the world again.
“I don’t plan on i
t.”
We sit on our bench and watch the October sun set. We lean on each other like we should have been doing these last couple of weeks.
We continue to talk, and Jonathan says that he finally realizes that he needs to see somebody about losing his mom and Matt, and also about this recent shooting. He plans on making an appointment to talk to somebody in the morning. He also says that he thinks he should apologize to Ireland for being MIA these last couple weeks, but I tell him to stop beating himself up and that she’s four. She knew he had been hurt and was recovering. Although it does mean a lot that he would think to offer this to her, but there is no need to confuse her when she really had no idea that there was anything wrong to begin with.
We finally head back to my mom’s once the moon is shining above us and we get home in time for Ireland’s bedtime routine. We have both agreed that we have to take things slow and not jump right into sleep-overs again. We need to show respect to my mom and then Mick once we’re back at his place. It’s something that I know is important, but it’s hard when all I want is to fall asleep in his arms every night. But knowing he’s out there, that he’s mine, and if all goes well he will never walk away again, is enough for now.
After Ireland is in bed and Jonathan has gone for the night, I finally take the time to unzip the bag that Jonathan brought me from Mick’s. As I unzip the bag, I catch a glimpse of colorful ribbon. I reach in to find that there are several little gift bags with what looks to be a card on the very top. I take the envelope out and it isn’t a card but a handwritten note from Jonathan that says . . .
Gracie, I am so sorry that I missed your birthday.
I just want you to know that you are perfect to me.
I know you don’t need a man by your side to make you strong, but I sure hope to have you by my side so you can make me stronger.
You are the smartest person I have ever met.
You have a compassionate heart.
You are independent and capable.
Your smile lights up every room and you make everybody around you feel better just by being in your presence.
You have a grace about you that I cannot explain in words.
You are such a good momma and such a great friend.
You are beautiful inside and out.
You are perfect.
Happy birthday to the most perfect woman I know.
All my love,
Georgia
Once I gather myself and wipe away the tears, I reach into the bag and pull out the first of many gift bags.
Wrapped in plastic, to keep them fresh, is a bouquet of a dozen birthday cake cake pops! They’re put together like a bouquet of flowers with ribbon tying them together. He had to have gone to multiple Starbucks to find all of these. I love it! The next bag has the most beautiful mug with a dragonfly on it. Next is an assortment of every kind of sticky note that you can even imagine. Every shape, size and color. It seems silly, but all of these little things just shows how well he knows me and that he gets me.
There is also a Portland Police Department t-shirt with a note that says he would rather I wear his shirt instead of my brother’s, and that now I have a shirt to alternate with the USMC shirt I ’stole’ from him way back when. He also gifts me a bag of fishies, because everybody needs fishies in their life. It’s kind of adorable that he has adopted Ireland’s name for his favorite snack food.
The final gift is a framed picture of myself and Ireland at the zoo. It was from the moment where we took a break and sat in the grass to watch the hawk demonstration on the main stage. Ireland is in my lap, and she’s kissing my cheek. The smile on my face has to be one of the biggest I have ever smiled, and I am so thankful that he captured the moment. He isn’t in the picture, but part of the reason I was so happy that day was because he was with us. Even though it’s only the two of us in this picture, I can’t help but think of him when I look at it. This was the day my world starting coming together and I started to love and live again. This picture makes me realize how thankful I am to have him in my life. How did I get so lucky?
Parachute
Jonathan
With our album playing through my ear buds, I’m running for my life on this damn treadmill. My eyes are burning as the sweat pours off of my head and down my face. I look down and see I’ve already run seven miles on today’s penance run. I’m sure I am pushing harder than the doctors would like, but I don’t even realize how long I’ve been at it. My mind is going a million miles an hour as I think about everything that Emily and I talked about last night. I’m still in shock at the way things went and the unwavering support she gave me even after my bullshit behavior.
Promising to never walk away from her again was the easiest promise I’ve ever made to another person or myself. My time apart from her was a misery I don’t ever want to experience again. I should have let her in. I didn’t, yet she still never quit on me. She texted and called every day . . . she left fishies on my front porch . . . she never gave up on me. I will spend the rest of my life doing the same for her, and proving to her that her trust and support was worth it.
I’ve known for a long time that I needed to talk to somebody about all the nightmares that still tend take over from time to time since losing Shell and Mom. I was in such a dark place. My nightmares didn’t only come while I slept, they were always on my mind. Finding Emily again gave me such light that I was foolish enough to think that she was the salve to all my problems; that life would be perfect just because she was in it. It’s true that it’s pretty damn close to perfect. But I still have shit to work through, and if it means going to a shrink so that life with Emily and Ireland can be that much better, then that’s what I’ll do. I could tell when I offered to go talk to somebody that she was relieved that she didn’t have to ask me to go herself. I think it’s been clear to everybody but me that I needed some help.
First thing this morning, I called Noah Caldwell to get the name of his shrink. I know it’s helped him deal with his shooting from last year. I already have an appointment for tomorrow morning. I haven’t been medically cleared to go back to work yet, and I really shouldn’t have anything to do with Emily’s case, but I can’t not try to help figure this shit out. No more sitting on my ass. Getting to the gym today was step two in getting my shit back together. I got my girl back, and now I need to make sure I keep her.
Offering to talk to somebody was hard, but not as hard as agreeing to slowing things down and not having ‘sleep overs’. I get it, I really do, but now that I have her in my life I hate to be away from her for even five minutes. I miss her when she’s only in the next room so agreeing to not spend my nights with her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I get that she lives with her brother and she’s trying to be respectful. I really do get it. It sucks, but I get it. Right now she’s at her mom’s and she wants to be respectful to her as well. I know she doesn’t want to confuse Ireland, but what is there to confuse her about? I love her momma, and I’m not going anywhere, so she might as well get used to me being around. We will have to have a sleep over at my place soon or I may go bat-shit crazy. It’s not about the sex, I just sleep so much better with her there. I didn’t have a nightmare at all the week Mick was gone. I can’t say the same since the night of the wedding.
Between the sound of Kings of Leon in my ears, the pounding of my feet on the treadmill and my mind that won’t shut off, I almost don’t notice the sound of the call coming in. I look down and see that it’s from an unknown number. I almost don’t answer, but my gut tells me I should.
“Hello?”
“Officer Kelly?” says the scared voice on the other end of the line.
I instantly hit the STOP button on the treadmill, and hop off the machine and make my way to the front doors of the building. I have no idea who this is, or what they are going to say, but I know it’s about my girls. I just know it is.
“Yes, this is Officer Kelly, who’s this?”
“Uh
sir, this is Jesse Miller. You came by my house a few weeks back. You said you were friends with Miss Jacobs?”
My heart drops to my stomach because I know this is the call we’ve been waiting for. I can’t let him know how important it is to me so I try my best to play it cool.
“Hi Jesse, how’s it going?” I try to ask casually and not like my sanity hangs on his every word.
“Uh . . . Officer Kelly?”
“I’m right here, Jesse, and please call me Jonathan.”
“Oh okay.”
“You okay, Jesse? Is everything okay with you and your brother? Miss Jacobs was real excited to see you in class yesterday. Glad you made it back to school, Jesse. That’s really great news.”
“Yeah, it’s great to be back, sir. Things are fine for me and my brother. I . . . uh . . . I called to talk about Miss Jacobs.”
I think my heart might actually burst through my rib cage any second as I wait to hear what he has to say. I want to pull the information out of this kid’s head, but I know I need to let him go at his pace.
“Okay, what’s up?”
“Well, I heard that she’s been getting some threats and that maybe somebody might have broken into her house?”
“Who told you that, Jesse?”
“Well, the person who says they’ve been doing it. Is it true?”
“It is, Jesse.”
“Shit.”
“Jesse, please tell me who’s doing this to her,” I plead to him as calmly as I can.
“I was really hoping it wasn’t true. Poor Miss Jacobs.”
“Jesse . . .”
“Sir . . . it’s my cousin . . . Kayla . . . Kayla Simmons.”