by H. P. Munro
Freya scowled but took a sip, her furrowed brow turned into a look of surprise, “Mmmm nice.” She licked her lips and handed Jackson the mug before checking the road and pulling off.
Leaning forward Jackson switched the music off so that he could hear the engine better. “When we get back can I have a look under the hood?” he asked, his voice tinged with boyish excitement. Despite being the owner of several auto shops, Jackson still could not stop the mechanic in him from being wound up over engines and how they looked and sounded.
“Sure you can grease monkey.”
Switching the music back on Jackson settled into the ride to Freya’s potential new neighborhood. “So West Hollywood?” he asked sipping his smoothie.
Freya concentrated on the road ahead. “Mmm?” she responded absently.
“Don’t mmm me missy, you know exactly what I’m asking. You’re looking to move into Jordan’s neighborhood,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and accusation.
Turning her head to look at her friend she smiled innocently, “What?” she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a good neighborhood, and big. It’s a big neighborhood, huge almost.”
Jackson gave her a withering look. “Eyes on the road,” he waved his finger towards the windshield. “Seriously, you’re going to do this?” he asked.
“Do what? I need somewhere to live. I became familiar with the area and I like it. Nothing else,” she replied.
Jackson narrowed his eyes still not believing her. They drove the rest of the way to the West Hollywood Hills area in comfortable silence, punctuated by their efforts to sing along with songs from Freya’s iPod. Jackson was in the middle of a particularly impressive, and oddly accurate, impression of Cher when he started to take note of his surroundings. They were driving up Jordan’s street.
“Freya Easter, really?” he asked incredulously as they drove closer to Jordan’s home.
“What? It’s not like it’s next door to her, you just have to drive past to get to it,” she replied defensively. “Seriously Jackson, this is not a big deal.”
Jackson raised a hand and gestured that he gave up. They drove past Jordan’s house and continued for another few minutes before Freya pulled into a drive. Waiting at the door of the property was the realtor. As they were shown around Freya’s excitement grew as she pictured herself living in the house surrounded with her belongings.
Jackson meanwhile was still pondering over Freya’s decision on where to live. After a half hour of walking in and out of the rooms and peppering the real estate agent with questions they walked back to the car. Opening the door Freya looked over the car towards Jackson. “I’m going to take it,” she said decisively.
“I know you are sweetie. I knew you would from the moment you picked me up,” Jackson gave her a smug smile. “Just please promise me that you won’t start hiding in trees outside her home with binoculars.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Not everything I do is related to Jordan,” she huffed flinging herself into the driver’s seat.
Slipping gracefully into the passenger seat he muttered to himself, “No not everything, just most things.”
***
Freya was pleased with herself. She had found somewhere to live, so soon there would be no more living with Anna and the first table read had been a success. Life was good, except that the one person she wanted to tell about her week was still barely speaking to her. It was late on Saturday night and she was sitting in her bedroom in Anna’s guesthouse. Wearing her onesie and slanket, ignoring Jackson’s strict orders that the two items were never to share the same space at the same time. The remnants of a take-out sat on the corner of her bed as she huddled up, studying her script in a vain attempt to learn her lines. Finally, placing her thumb and index finger either side of her nose, she squeezed her eyes closed tightly.
“I give up,” she said aloud to the empty room as she tossed the script onto the bed and grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand. She started absently flicking through channels, holding her thumb down on the scroll button as the images before her changed quickly. Her mind suddenly began processing one of the images that had flashed momentarily on the screen. Selecting the back button she scrolled back through the channels to find what she thought she’d seen.
The TV screen filled with Jordan.
Freya’s breath caught at the image of her ex-girlfriend crying on screen. Turning up the volume, Freya let her head drop as she watched the lifetime movie that Jordan had made during hiatus. She checked the schedule. The movie had started only five minutes before and had an hour to run. Freya gave a small ironic smile, it looked like she would be spending Saturday night with the woman she loved after all.
As the movie finished Freya wiped away the tears that were flowing freely down her face. She plucked a tissue from the box on the nightstand and blew her nose noisily. Jordan’s performance had been flawless. Freya had forgotten just how amazing a talent Jordan had. Her expressive brown eyes could convey every nuance of emotion. Sniffing, Freya was suddenly filled with enormous pride at her girlfriend’s, ex-girlfriend’s, she corrected mentally, work.
She shifted on the bed onto her knees looking for her cell. Locating it under her discarded script, she brushed the back of her hand across her nose and released a short puff of air out of the side of her mouth to shift a stray lock of hair. She quickly typed a message and pressed send before she could talk herself out of it.
Jordan was sitting at her piano, her fingers picking out the melody of the song she had been working on with a co-writer. She had always talked about recording an album and since her split with Freya she had started to take the steps to turn the talk into reality. She had taken Anna’s advice to heart and thrown herself into every creative outlet available to her as a way of coping with the grief at the loss of her relationship. They had laid down the tracks on two of the songs that she was going to release as a taster to see whether there was a market for her songs and voice. The third track was still giving her sleepless nights. She couldn’t get the lyrics quite right, which was why she was sitting humming the melody to herself and every now and again softly singing the lyrics that she had written. The buzz from her phone broke her from her thoughts. She stood up and crossed the room to collect her cell. Her heart stopped as she saw whom she had received a message from.
Hi, sorry to text so late, I just watched your movie on cable and had to tell you how amazing you were…are. Freya
Jordan’s lips spread into a slow smile that she could not stop becoming a silly grin. Her thumbs had started to type out a reply when she stopped and dropped the phone onto the table as if it had burned her and started to pace back and forth.
“What are you doing?” she asked herself. “You’ve only just gotten over her and you’re going to let her waltz back into your life, back into your heart, because she sent a cute text. You are better than this,” she argued with herself as she marched back and forth behind her sofa. “Who are you kidding? You’re not over her, you’ll never be over her,” she raged at herself, stopping and looking accusingly at her cell phone lying innocently on the table. “Why, Freya? Why now? Why, when I’m feeling stronger, does seeing you for twenty minutes and then getting a text from you make me melt?” she yelled at the phone. “What do you want from me?” she walked round and collapsed onto the sofa, her forearms shielding her face, when her phone buzzed again.
Your performance was incredible. I’m still crying thinking about it…just had to tell you. Sweet dreams.
Reading the message Jordan felt her stomach flip. After all this time the thought of Freya being upset still triggered a response to comfort her. She let her head fall back and puffed her cheeks up letting the air leave her body slowly. She sat up and rolled her shoulders typing a reply into her phone and pressing send, before returning to the piano to play with her song.
Freya was pacing around her bed, chewing nervously on her thumbnail, her slanket billowing behind her like a cloak as she walked. “I shouldn’t h
ave texted,” she admonished herself aloud. “You’re a fool Freya, a goddammed fool who should know better than texting your ex-girlfriend in the middle of the night when you’re tired and emotional and just watched her on screen for an hour.”
Her phone buzzed from the center of the bed interrupting her diatribe. She launched herself at the bed, her landing causing the take-out box to bounce off the bed and land open on the floor. Grimacing at the mess Freya opened the message, her breath held captive in her lungs as it loaded onto the screen.
Thank you, I’m sorry I made you cry, although you are one of life’s pretty criers, not like me all snot and wailing. Get some sleep it’s late...Pleasant dreams…Jordan.
Freya laughed as she read Jordan’s description of how she looked when crying, which could not have been further from the truth.
She replied that’s got to mean something, Freya thought flipping herself onto her back and allowing herself a moment to consider that there may be hope of them finding each other again and reconnecting. She kicked her legs excitedly against the mattress before getting up to tidy the mess on the floor.
May 2013
The next month was tough for both women. Freya became acutely aware of the difference of being in an ensemble cast and being the main character. Her workload was massive in comparison to what she’d had when she worked on Front Line. She had also moved into her new home, although boxes still lay unpacked, piled up messily in the corners of rooms waiting until she had a break in her schedule to unpack fully. She had not spoken to Jordan since their text conversation but, as usual, she was kept up to date on events through either Dan or Jackson.
Jordan, equally, had been caught up in the maelstrom of her career. She had finally managed to write lyrics for her final song and recorded the number. She was also on a publicity merry-go-round to promote the season’s finale of Front Line. Her character was very much front and center on the episode and as a consequence she had been doing the lion’s share of the publicity interviews. When possible she was also taking opportunity to sing songs from her album. She was happy to be busy though as it meant that she spent less time in a quandary about what to do about Freya and she got to promote her music.
***
Standing on her front step Freya stretched out. She took a deep breath of the morning air, placed her earphone buds into her ears then hopped down the steps and set off on her habitual morning run.
A loud beeping noise woke Jordan and she looked up at her alarm bleary-eyed before silencing it. Her head dropped back down onto her pillow and she lay for a split second before remembering the reason why her alarm was set. She shot upright and leapt from her bed towards the window, pulling the curtain back a fraction to allow her to see out towards the sidewalk. She checked the time on the alarm clock again, before settling into what had been her morning ritual for the past week and a half.
A minute later Freya jogged past in her tight running gear with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Jordan watched, her memory recalling what it was like to feel that body pressed against her own. She knew from experience that she had a half hour before the blonde returned back up the street on her way home. Since learning about Freya’s new abode from Jackson, Jordan had been keeping an eye out for her ex. It was only by chance that she had seen her running ten days earlier at this time and Jordan told herself that it was also just happenstance that she was up, and at her window, at the same time the following morning.
Day ten and Jordan was done pretending.
She was enjoying the view.
Freya reached the point on her playlist when she had to turn around and head back towards home. As she started the slog back up the hill towards Jordan’s she once again told herself that it was the best route for a run. But she wasn’t kidding anyone, let alone herself. She was running past Jordan’s in the hope of seeing her. However, ten days, and there had been no sign, nothing…nada. Maybe today would be the day, she thought, picking up her pace in anticipation. She was literally outside Jordan’s when she noticed that her lace had become undone. She gave up a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of serendipity as she pulled up and bent over to tighten it.
Jordan stood at the window, watching as Freya stopped outside her home; directly outside her home. For a moment, Jordan thought that perhaps Freya was going to come up the path and her heart started to beat frantically in her chest. However, when she saw Freya bend down to tie her lace, a wave of disappointment came over her, replaced by outright lust, as she bit her bottom lip enraptured with the vision of Freya. She was so captivated that she forgot to remain out of sight as she parted the curtains wider and stood on her tiptoes to get a better view.
Tying her lace tightly, Freya stood up and placed her hands onto her hips, stretching out her lower back. Her gaze drifted up towards Jordan’s house and more specifically Jordan’s bedroom window as she thought about her ex-girlfriend lying sleeping in the room. Her forehead furrowed as the curtains twitched and, for a split second, Freya could have sworn that there had been a figure at the window. She hoped that Dan and Jackson had been telling the truth to her and that Jordan wasn’t seeing anyone, which meant that there was a distinct possibility that the figure had belonged to Jordan. She smiled to herself and set off to complete her run with an added spring in her step.
Lying crouched beneath her window, her knees up at her chin, Jordan started to chuckle to herself at the ridiculousness of the situation. She let out a long, deep, frustrated growl then stood and set off for a cold morning shower.
***
Freya picked up her phone, her face was wet with tears after watching Front Line’s finale. She had enjoyed a rare evening when she was home before nine and had taken the opportunity to unpack some boxes before pouring herself a glass of wine and settling down to watch Jordan’s big moment.
She never doubted Jordan’s abilities. Even before she had met Jordan, she had watched her perform on stage and on Front Line. Freya was blown away at the sheer emotional rollercoaster she had been taken on. She knew that that Georgia had moved from the base hospital in Germany to the combat support hospital on the show, which put her literally on the Front Line for the first time. What she was not expecting was for Georgia to become a victim of an explosive device. She watched as Georgia ignored her own injuries as she struggled to help fellow soldiers. When rescued, nothing could have prepared Freya for the experience of seeing Jordan, as Georgia, code on the table. She had ended up on the edge of her seat shouting at the TV for them to get her back. In some irrational part of her brain it was not Georgia lying injured and dying it was Jordan. Jordan’s performance of Georgia had been immaculate.
Jordan had invited a selection of friends, from the show and other areas of her life, around to watch the episode with her. However the person that she really wanted to be there was probably still working somewhere at the studio. From what she had gathered from Dan, Freya’s workload was giving her little free time for anything apart from sleeping and her morning run. She had contemplated asking Freya round, but wasn’t sure how it might be interpreted. She wasn’t entirely sure how she wanted it interpreted either so in the end she had opted not to mention it as, if you disregarded their morning jogging dates, where Jordan was still observing her ex on her morning run from behind her bedroom curtains, there had been no communication between them since their meeting at Dan’s.
The phone had rung constantly since the show finished and Jordan had not stopped grinning as her family and friends called to congratulate her. She was talking with Jackson and Dan when Sabrina thrust her house phone towards her, one hand covering the mouthpiece.
“You’re gonna want to take this one,” Sabrina grinned passing the handset.
Frowning Jordan accepted the phone and raised the hand still holding her glass of champagne in order to place her finger in her ear to block out the sound from her living room, “Hello?”
“You’re alive!”
Jordan could hear the smile in Freya’s voice. She gav
e Sabrina a quick scowl as she stood grinning cheesily towards her, making swooning motions. Kicking open the door to the kitchen Jordan stepped into the quieter room and started to make her way towards her patio.
“Yeah I am,” she said smiling as she slipped out into her yard. “You watched then. I thought you would have been working. Dan said that you’ve been pulling long hours.”
Freya stretched out on the sofa, “I have but tonight we wrapped early. It sounds like you’ve a full house, I should let you go. I just wanted to let you know how amazing I thought you were.”
Jordan’s breath caught as she sat down on the stone bench that she had sat on with Freya during her birthday party. She looked out across the pool remembering how she had looked in her costume that night, “No, it’s okay, I…” She paused, wanting to tell Freya that she didn’t want to speak to anyone else but settled on, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, you should be the focus point every week on the show.”
Laughing Jordan shook her head, “Oooh noo, the workload for that was immense, no thanks. Besides I think Eleanor would have a heart attack.”
“I’ll speak to her, she owes me,” Freya said jokingly, screwing up her face and thumping her head back against the cushion as she realized what she’d just alluded to.
Jordan swallowed hard, trying not to dwell on why Eleanor owed Freya. “She does. Both of us actually,” she added quietly.
Freya bit her top lip, her brain and heart fighting a battle. “I miss you,” she whispered, her heart having won the fight. She heard Jordan take a sharp intake of breath, the moment seemed to extend for hours before Jordan spoke.
“I...”
“Hey Jordan, Sabrina is about to make cocktails and is looking for your blender,” Grant’s voice drifted out from the house.
Hesitantly Jordan waved a hand towards him to let him know she was coming. “I’m sorry I have to go Freya. I,” Jordan closed her eyes. “Thank you for calling, it really means a lot,” she added before ending the call.