by Mara White
“No, honey. I made beef stew and homemade bread. Your father is working on the salad. Do you like red peppers? I forget, is it Carlos who gets an itchy face from those?”
“What did you call for, if you’re gonna see me in fifteen?” Sometimes the two of them were so ridiculous, it was infuriating; good thing they were both endearing.
“Well, a letter, no wait, a postcard came for you in the mail.”
“Who’s it from? Ryan started the ignition, he could at least pull out of the parking lot.”
“I don’t know, dear. You’ll have to read it when you get here.”
“Ma, if you know it’s for me, that means you flipped it over. Who’s it from?”
He didn’t often call his mother out on bullshit, but her phone call made him agitated. Sometimes, going home was just an annoying reiteration of the fact that he was the only one without a girlfriend.
“Your friend from college. The one whose sisters passed away.”
Ryan felt a lump form in his throat. He swallowed hard, smiled and blinked back tears.
“Jackie?”
“I think so, dear.”
“Read the signature, Mom!” His mother was driving him insane and yet he loved her and loved that she knew it was important enough to call him about.
“It’s addressed to “Sport” and the signature says, “Jackie.” I’m not reading it, Son. I’ve got it right here on the counter for you.”
“Thanks, Ma. Sure you don’t need anything? Ice cream?” His heart was imploding. How could a simple post card cause this much elation?
“I made pie, Sweetie. Drive carefully.”
“I will.”
Ryan leaned on the gas and roared back onto the highway toward home.
Sport,
Thinking about all the fun we used to have. I hope life has been kind. Finally doing my own thing, you’d be proud!
All the best,
Jackie
He laughed when he read it, like he could hear her voice coming through the note. He looked up at the ceiling. He thought about the phrase, “the one you let go, or the one who got away,” which people tossed around casually. He didn’t want Jackie to embody that phrase for him.
He didn’t know if he could make it through dinner. Ryan was elated, giddy even. His mother kept smiling at him. If a post card felt this good, then what would a letter do for him. No return address.
Damn.
He ate his stew with his elbow on the table, fist propping up his face. Diane passed him a salad with green beans and white potatoes, there were red peppers, too. He scooped it onto his plate and wiped his mouth with a dinner napkin.
His father coughed and Ryan looked up.
“Was it bad news, Sweetie?” his mother asked.
“Huh? No, not at all. She made it to California. She always wanted to go there.”
“Are you going to write her back?” Cal asked with concern. Elephant in the room. Elephant sitting right on top of them, crushing his chest.
Ryan didn’t like that everyone tiptoed around the subject with him, but he realized that it was his own fault. They were only reading his reactions.
“Leave him alone!” his brother Carlos piped up. Carlos was still in Iowa and both he and Ryan tried to do Sunday dinners with their parents. Sometimes Carlos had them all over to his place. Ryan assumed that the reason Carlos still made regular appearances was because he didn’t love his wife’s cooking as much as his mother’s. But Carlos was a good man and would never let his wife know.
“You want to go get a beer after dinner?” Carlos asked him.
“Yeah,” Ryan said. He leaned back in his chair and brought his arms up behind his head.
“What?” Carlos asked his parents who were both quiet and staring.
“Nothing,” Diane said and picked up her fork to resume eating.
“If she wanted me to write her back, she would have included her return address.” Ryan had to shout over the sound of twelve televisions blaring in the background of the sports bar. He dove his fingers into a bowl of fresh popcorn the bartender had slid in front of them when he served them two pints of beer.
“From everything you’ve ever told me about her, I don’t think that’s true.” Carlos was the most even keeled of all the four brothers, he’d become a medical ethics professor and had published a few books on the subject. Ryan ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t forget all the times she’d pushed him away, even when she needed him the most.
“If I said Jackie was infuriating, it would be an understatement. She pushed me away so many times.”
“If you said you didn’t care about her, that would be the understatement. The postcard is Jackie reaching out to you in the only way she knows how. She’s been through a lot, brother. It’s going to take just as much effort to get those walls to come down. Think wrecking ball, not sledgehammer.”
Ryan and Carlos toasted to women and to Scotty who was currently appearing on the big screen in front of them and running for the fifty yard line.
“Walters sucks!” they both hollered in unison as their brother made a touchdown. Patrons of the Sport’s bar stopped cheering and stared openly at the brothers. They had to give Scotty shit one way or another for turning out to be so successful.
“Amateur! Shitty play!” Carlos shouted to the ones who still hand their necks craned to see who was belittling their favorite star quarterback.
“Walters was drafted for his looks. Can’t play ball for shit!” Ryan hollered.
The brothers looked at one another and laughed. Ryan ordered two more beers and Carlos looked at his watch.
“If you’ve got to get going, I understand,” Ryan said apologetically.
“Naw, I’m happy to hang out for another. I usually try to get home to tuck them in, but it’s good to toughen them up a bit. Ethan is a mama’s boy. We get calls home because he’s such a tattle tale at school.”
“Want me to come over and rough him up a bit? Get a game of tackle football going out back?”
Ryan was smiling.
“God, yes. Please. Although that strategy might have worked on you and Scott, I’m still the guy who runs away from the ball.”
They sipped their beers and Carlos ordered a coffee. That was his ritual. Never any more than two beers while he was out and he always drank a coffee before getting back into his vehicle. Ryan wasn’t much of a drinker anymore either. He wondered if Jackie still kept up her ways or if she’d settled with age. He hoped for the latter.
“So, Bro, how you going to find her? Did you try social media or looking up her name to see if an address came up?”
“Not yet. Suppose I could.”
“I think, at this point, you have to.”
“Why would you say that?” Ryan grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed one in the air, caught it with his mouth. He tossed a piece at Carlos who just let it bounce off his cheek.
“Nobody hits you as hard as she does. Nobody ever has. I think you’re in love with her.”
“It’s been years!” Ryan said defensively. “I just haven’t gotten serious with anyone.”
“Because of her. You don’t let anyone else in because you’ve only got room in your heart for her. You’re the guy who could have any chick you wanted and I’m not just saying that because you’re my brother. Any chick. But you don’t want them. You only want her.”
“Dude, come on. I’ve dated other girls.” Ryan felt nervous, like his body was flushed through with heat.
Ryan picked up some beer nuts and cracked the shells into the bowl, he threw a handful into his mouth and washed them down with a swig of his beer.
“What are ‘beer nuts,’ they taste like pistachios.”
“Pistachios,” Carlos answered a haughty smile appearing on his lips.
“I’m seeing someone right now,” Ryan said in a weak defense.
“I’m not criticizing you, Ry. I’m just calling it as I see it and as your brother, I’m telling you to
pay attention to this. Grab onto it. Sometimes you only get one chance.”
“You think so?”
“I love you, man. You’re my favorite brother.”
It was something they all said to one another no matter which brother they were speaking with.
Ryan exhaled, making sure to push out every last little bit of air in his lungs. Sometimes he thought it was just the sex. Sometimes he thought Jackie was so addicting because it was a game of cat and mouse and she never let him win—he kept coming back for more.
“Okay, okay. I’ll find her address, write her back.”
Carlos smiled and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him back and forth. Ryan was almost twice the size of his older brother, but Carlos beat him in the size of his heart. All of his brothers were great men, good people. He felt lucky to have grown up with them. And he realized how deeply it would tear him apart if he lost any of them, how thick and stubborn those scars would be. His heart ached for Jackie. Of course, she pushed him away. A postcard without a return address from her was like a cry for help. She needed Ryan and this was her way of telling him, the only way she could. He swore at that moment he’d be there for her, come thick or thin, Ryan had to interpret the only signals she was capable of giving. He’d respond. He’d offer himself in any way he could.
Carlos was right. Of course, he was right. But how could he reach out without looking like a stalker. He stayed away from social media in general but maybe he could find her on there. Or not. He could use the address he had for the farm in Wisconsin, but he was pretty sure neither she nor her father were there anymore. How many Jackie Bowens could there be?
An hour later, his mind was in a downward spiral with just how many Jackie Bowens there were in the world and just how many of them were not his Jackie Bowen, just other girls sharing her name. He put his head down on his desk and almost gave up. Then he remembered Deanna. He was pretty sure they were friends on social media. In fact, he remembered seeing cute pictures of her drooling toddlers in diapers, swimming in a kiddy pool, a tight t-shirt stretched over Deanna’s again pregnant belly. Her procreative productivity rate had alarmed him and made him feel like a slacker. Thank God he had sent her a Happy Birthday message once in the last ten years because he felt like a poser contacting her just for Jackie’s information. Maybe they kept in touch. Maybe they didn’t. He scrolled through her friends list and didn’t see any familiar brown eyes peeking out through the thumbnail sized images.
“Hey, Deanna! How are you? Great pictures of the kids!”
“Ryan Walters?! NO WAY!!! No fucking way, dude! I’m great! How the hell are you?”
“Fine! Wait, did you marry Frampton?”
“YESSSSSSS! I thought you knew?” Ryan remembered Frampton as the linebacker from their team who failed a test for anabolic steroids and tried to cover it up by taking a bunch of prescription drugs to throw the screening and ended up in hospital, almost overdosing on cough medicine.
“Small world! What’s Frampton up to these days?”
“He’s a real estate agent. We’re in Milwaukee! You?”
“Still in Des Moines. Hey, you ever hear from Jackie?”
“Yes!!! She’s in Cali now! Working and just being Jackie. Free spirit, no shoes, no hair brush, you know the deal!” Ryan detected a note of bitterness or maybe jealousy. Deanna certainly was tethered, while Jackie, even married and with kids, would probably be unstoppable.
“Do you have her address by any chance? I saw something that reminded me of her and wanted to send it, but I have no way of tracking her down.”
“What are you up to Walters? Bad breakup? Walk down memory lane?”
Jeeze! Deanna was proving more difficult than he’d imagined. Maybe he ought to go another route.
“An old inside joke. Just wanted to catch up with her and make sure she was doing okay!” Deanna softened after the mention of Jackie’s difficulty. They’d both born witness to the huge crater of grief she had to cross and neither of them could easily forget her pain.
He logged off with an address scribbled on a post-it note, his heart beat in his throat with the potential to finally say the things to Jackie that he’d never been able to say. Now all he needed was to act like an adult if Jackie turned out to be unavailable. The address didn’t come with a time machine and he had to prepare himself for the idea that she had moved on and only contacted him casually, a platonic gesture to an old friend, not an old flame to rekindle.
When he finally finished composing the letter, he had poured out his whole heart. Better to shock her now, than draw it out and end up looking like some creepy stalker. He’d put all of his cards on the table and told her how he felt. The exercise was in and of itself therapeutic. Jackie or not, Ryan felt ready to move on.
Chapter 27
Jackie
Jackie turned the envelope over in her hand. A neighbor walked by and offered a greeting but she had ignored it. Ryan’s handwriting did something funny to her belly. She traced the letters that made up her name. He had written it. Had it really been years since she’d been in contact with him? Holding the envelope, it didn’t feel like years. She wanted to toss it without reading it but she knew she couldn’t. Anxiety crippled her as she pushed her key in the lock. She had plans tonight with some friends. A concert in the park. She hadn’t expected to come home from Buck’s to a letter from him. Subconsciously, she knew sending that postcard had been a rotten idea. Sure to open old wounds, but she hadn’t been able to control the impulse. Occasionally, she stalked his social media accounts—just to see his smiling face.
She dropped her purse, kicked off her shoes and set the envelope on the counter top. Pinching her phone between her ear and shoulder she waited.
“Good Lord, woman, you won’t believe what the little monster did today,” Rose greeted. Jackie smiled.
“I have a letter from Ryan here.”
Rose’s gasp came through the receiver loud and clear. “What does it say?”
“I haven’t opened it.”
“What is wrong with you? Open it.”
“Rose.” Jackie didn’t need to say more than that. Rose knew everything Jackie was feeling. All the thoughts that raced through her head.
“I will stay on the phone with you. You can read it aloud. It won’t be so scary if you pretend I’m right there in the room with you.”
“What did Lola do today?”
“Oh, hell no,” Rose said, “you are not getting any Lola intel until you read that letter to me.”
“You’re the worst,” Jackie mumbled. She snatched the letter from the counter and tucked herself on the couch. Rose moaned in her ear.
“Ice cream?” Jackie asked.
Rose giggled. “Dr. Coralis,” she said. “He’s fixing the porch. Shirtless. Swinging a hammer. I might combust.” Jackie chuckled and hooked her index finger under the flap of the envelope. “I heard that! Paper. You’re opening it,” Rose squealed. Jackie almost hung up. She wasn’t sure she could do this with Rose on the phone. “So . . . what does it say?”
Jackie couldn’t quell the shaking of her hands which made it hard to read the words before her.
“Sorry to be a brat, but I’m going to have to call you back,” she said. Rose protested into the phone but Jackie ended the call.
Dear Jackie,
I’ve thought about you every single day since I last saw you. Maybe I should be embarrassed to say that, maybe it’s coming on too strong and will only push you away. It’s been a while since I last saw you and yet a day doesn’t go by without something reminding me of you. Every single day, Jackie. Maybe the smart move would be to keep these feelings to myself. I don’t know if you’re married, in a committed relationship, in love with someone else. If you are, you should probably grab a match or a lighter and burn this letter up now.
Still reading? I meant everything I said, including the marriage pact. Did you? Don’t worry, this isn’t a proposal, it’s still just a letter. That postcard you sent was like the
union scab running across the picket line. I’ve been holding back for a long time and all hell just broke loose. Fuck it, I’m storming the blockade.
Truth is, I’ve only got one life and I don’t want to live it without you. So, this is me, Ryan, reaching out to let you know how much I still care about you. You haunt my dreams. Your smile still lives in my heart. I compare every other woman to you, even when I tell myself not to. (I sound like a complete psychopath, I know.)
I’m not talking about fond memories, what we had was the real thing. You changed my life and you changed how I see the world. I tried moving on. And I did, in a lot of ways. I dated, got a great job, traveled—learned a lot and got perspective, but despite all that, I still want you to be my girl. Who knew, but as it turns out, my heart is a peculiar shape and the only other shape that complements it is your own. What would you say if I said, let’s meet up and see if we still fit? Even if we only end up as friends, at least we can say we tried.
I got your address from Deanna, I promise, I’m not a stalker. I can’t believe you made it all the way to California, no scratch that, I totally fucking can, you are as badass as they come.
Your devoted friend and backup failsafe husband option,
Ryan
Jackie’s face was wet with tears and her cheeks hurt from the smile plastered to her face. All this time and yet the distance did nothing to lessen the feelings she had for him. Reading his letter, it was if not a day had passed. She could hear his voice. See his expressions. Time supposedly healed all wounds but nothing healed the spot she held dear for Ryan. She set the letter on the coffee table and dialed Rose.
“What in the ever living hell was that nonsense,” Rose yelled in her ear. “Hoes before bros, bitch! If there was ever a time to not leave your girl hanging, that was it.”
Jackie laughed.
Chapter 28
Ryan