Next to Me

by AnnaLisa Grant

  There’s a Latin class in progress when I walk in. I hadn’t paid attention to the time and only now realize that I’m terribly late.

  “Mi amor!” Marco shouts when he turns around and sees me. “We have missed you so much!” He stops the class and rushes to me, hugging me tightly.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Marco,” I tell him.

  “Where have you been?” Carina asks, making Marco move so she can hug me too.

  “Well, there was this crazy woman who came into the hospital early last week. She kind of stabbed me,” I tell them.

  “No! Oh, my God, are you ok?” Carina asks. Her eyes are wide and I can see that she’s very concerned about me.

  “It sounds much worse than it is. The wound wasn’t too deep, but it did knick some muscle. I laid off it for 24-hours, and it’s been healing fine since. It’s still a little sore, so just don’t make me dance with Marco,” I tell Carina, trying to calm her.

  “If you say so,” she says. Marco kisses my cheek and excuses himself to continue the class. “So…are you still seeing Landon?” Carina raises her eyebrows in anticipation of a wonderfully juicy story about how Landon and I are madly in love and are going to spend the rest of our lives together. Only the first part of that is true, but I can’t tell her that and explain why the second half of that statement is never going to happen.

  “Well…he has to travel constantly for work, and I have obligations here…it’d be great if it could work out, but it just isn’t going to happen." I give her a sad smile and hope she reads it as me just being disappointed and doesn’t see that I’m absolutely devastated at the reality of how things have played out.

  “In due time,” she says. “In due time you will have the love your heart longs for.” She doesn’t say anything else, which is strange for Carina. In the past she’s been more than vocal about my love life. When I haven’t connected with someone she’s set me up with, she’s been quick to move on to the next guy in her attempts to fill my life with love. For her to leave it as she has is new.

  I move to the back of the room and spend the rest of the class moving my body to the musical therapy and let the stress and anxiety sweat out as much as possible. I don’t move like I normally do when I let the beat and soul of the music consume me and I would dance almost involuntarily. It’s a successful session, though, as I feel a bit lighter. With all that is weighing me down, even the smallest amount of relief is more than welcome.

  Spring meets me at the door as I hobble into the apartment. “What are you doing home?” I ask her.

  “I’m taking a few days off. I wanted to be here for you,” she says. She helps me to the couch, putting a pillow under my knee to make my sore leg more comfortable. “Had I been awake when you were leaving I would have told you not to go to dance today. It’s still too early, Jenna. But, it looks like you figured that out on your own, huh.”

  “I had to go, Spring. I’m so full of tension and anxiety…it was the only thing I know that would relieve some of that,” I tell her.

  “Why didn’t you tell Mercy what you told me before you left for Paris?” she asks, sitting on the coffee table and facing me. I shake my head in an effort to keep the thoughts of Paris out of my head, but it doesn’t work.

  “I knew she would react protectively, emotionally,” I say. “Not that I thought you wouldn’t want to protect me…it’s just…I knew you’d be rational about it, whereas Mercy’s first instinct is to go all mother bear. She takes a long time to get to rational thought, and I didn’t have that kind of time. Was she as upset as I think she was?”

  “Do you think she was pissed beyond measure because she thought you had run off to get married in Paris without your best friends there?” I nod at her sarcastic question. “Then, yes.”

  “Well, it’s all over now, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “So…now that you’re back, and still alive, you have to fill in the blanks. You promised you’d tell me everything when you got back.” Spring puts her elbows on her knees and rests her chin on her fists, ready to hear my story.

  I take a deep breath, calming myself. I suppose, now that things are the way they are, it won’t hurt to tell her the truth of my past, so I begin.

  “When I was 19 I left my father under a tree in Washington, DC to die. I

  thought he had been shot by a very powerful man, a Senator, who he had been coerced into working for. And by working for, I mean he was paid to steal antique and heirloom collectables. My father has a very special set of skills that enables him to break into some unbreakable places almost completely undetected.” I pause for a moment and raise my eyebrows at Spring to ensure she’s following me.

  “Go on,” she says.

  “My father taught me these special skills when I was younger. I had been curious when he would be in his work room…practicing…and he took that as his cue that perhaps I could be as skillful as him. He was right. I took to it. Well, because my father had bragged to the Senator that he taught me everything he knew, and that I was a chip off the old block, my father made arrangements for me to leave DC and start a new life with a new name. He told me that he had ratted out the Senator and that he’d be coming after me to fill my father’s shoes.”

  “What was your name before?” Spring asks. She moves a pillow to the floor and makes herself more comfortable.

  “Veronica Matthews,” I smile softly.

  “I like it. But, I like Jenna Rockwell better.” She pats my leg and smiles back at me.

  “I like Jenna Rockwell better, too.”

  “So where does Landon come in?”

  “The Senator told Landon that I was his estranged daughter. That we had a falling out and he wanted me found so we could make amends. He showed Landon things I had left in my home the night I essentially escaped. My laptop, pictures of me, dance medals…things a father would have of his daughter’s. So, Landon did his job and found me,” I tell her. It’s hard talking about Landon. I’ve got to work toward forgetting about him somehow, and this is not helping.

  “And Paris?”

  “There’s a particular thing that the Senator has been after for years, a rare coin. Later, when I knew about my father working for this man, Dad would tell me about leads he had on where this coin was. So, with my father gone, the Senator wanted me to follow the lead in Paris and get it for him. There ended up being two problems with this.”

  “Only two?” Spring jokes and we both give a light laugh.

  “Well, only two to start with. First, I’d already had the coin for eight years. My father discovered it during one of his other jobs and gave it to me for safe keeping. We thought we might need to use it one day as leverage. Second, it turned out that my father wasn’t dead. He set me up to bring the coin to Paris so he could get it from me and sell it to someone who would pay him much more than he would have gotten from the Senator…and then he disappeared. My father left me to come home to the Senator empty-handed. So now the Senator is going to track the coin down and send me after it,” I explain.

  “Why can’t you just tell him that you’re not going to do it? Or, why don’t you threaten to tell the authorities?” She asks.

  “Because he threatened the people I love. He threatened you and Mercy directly. I couldn’t live with myself if anything ever happened to you, especially if it was because of me.” I feel tears filling my eyes and will them to stop. I’ve cried enough, and no amount of tears is going to change the situation.

  “Jenna, he’s not going to hurt us. He’s just trying to scare you, manipulate you in doing his dirty work,” she says, taking my hand in hers.

  “You’re right. He’s not going to hurt you or anyone I love. I was going to wait until Demi has the baby, but since she and Jack are getting married in a few weeks…I’m leaving Chicago.”

  “What do you mean you’re leaving Chicago? You can’t leave! Where will you go? What are you going to do?” Spring sits up straight, shocked by my statement.

  “It’s for
the best, Spring. If I’m not here then he can’t use you and the others to manipulate me. He knows I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you all safe.” I move the pillow out from under my leg and shift my body so I can get up. Spring sits up on her knees and blocks me.

  “You aren’t going anywhere, Jenna. I think you need to be patient and see what happens. You don’t know for a fact that the Senator is going to come after you,” she says with bright, hopeful eyes.

  Oh, Spring…always so optimistic, even in the most hopeless of situations.

  “Promise me you won’t say anything to the others about any of this…even after I leave,” I say as we stand, choosing not to respond to her hopefulness. She looks at me, unsure of how to respond. Spring wants to be supportive, but she knows that by doing so she’ll have to lie to our friends. That’s not easy for her to do. “Promise me.”

  “Ok,” she says reluctantly. “But I still think it’s going work out.” I take Spring in my arms and hold her close. I know that, no matter where I go, what lie of a life I live anywhere else, I’ll never have another friend like her.

  *****

  As suspected, my boss was extremely disappointed that my fairytale, happily-ever-after wedding did not take place. I explained the same story to her as I did the others and she completely understood. I told her that my plan was to throw myself into my work and try to forget about him as best I could. So I suppose I’ve given myself another apologetic letter to write when I drop off the face of the earth.

  Thankfully it’s been an uneventful first night back to work. Everyone’s meds are in stock and have been delivered as needed, and I don’t have any comatose patients on the brink of death. Mercy has avoided talking about Landon and Paris at all. I can see she’s working hard to not verbally murder him, which is helpful. I don’t think I’m ready for any conversation about

  him…or that I ever will be.

  “I feel like you’re keeping something from me,” Mercy says quietly as she sits next to me at the nurse’s station.

  “I’m sorry. It probably just seems that way since I’m not really interested in talking about what happened in Paris. I don’t mean to make you feel like I’m keeping something from you,” I tell her. I look down and fidget with the pen in my hand. The absolute worst part about this whole thing isn’t the fact that I’ll be abandoning the people I love, but that every moment until that day, I will tell lie after lie to them.

  “I just want you to be ok. I understand why you didn’t tell me about going to Paris yourself. I suppose you knew I would have gone crazy, which is what I did when Spring told me. It was just so unlike you to do something like that. I mean, you went from being a serial dater to falling in love with Landon. It all happened so fast. I guess I was taken off guard by it.”

  “I was taken off guard, too. I never expected to fall in love with Landon…certainly not so quickly. But, don’t worry. Landon and me...we’re definitely done,” I say. I begin to flip through the charts in front of me, intent on moving on from this conversation.

  “That’s just it. I don’t know what happened in Paris, but I think you’re walking away too quickly here. Yes, at first I was really pissed that you were in Paris to get married without me. But the more I ranted to Jerry, the more he reminded me of all the times I told him how much I wish you would find someone who would make you happy. How I wanted you to find the kind of greatness he and I have. And I couldn’t deny that when I looked at you and Landon together, I saw that you had found everything I had ever hoped you’d find.” Mercy puts her hand down on the files I’m still flipping through, forcing me to look up at her. “So what, you couldn’t go through with an impetuous move like getting married in Paris on a moment’s notice. You love him, and he’s insanely in love with you. Don’t push him away because you’re scared. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  I spend the rest of my shift grateful that all of my patients are sleeping through the night without incident. Mercy and I don’t really talk, and since none of the other girls ask me about it, I’m sure Mercy has told them that Paris was a disaster.

  The train ride home is as crappy as they come. Usually rush hour passengers don’t bother me, but the guy talking loudly on his douchebag ear piece this morning made me want to punch him in the throat. I still haven’t heard from Dellinger and it’s making me on edge. I can only imagine he’s discovered that Dad has taken off and is working to track him, and the coin, down. He’ll send me after the coin…and someone dangerous after Dad.

  I round the corner and eye the bakery. I consider going inside for my favorite croissants, but I can’t. The thought is just a sad domino effect of reminding me of Landon and Paris and all that I’m giving up.

  Adjusting my bag on my shoulder I continue walking toward the entrance to my building. All I want to do is get upstairs and crawl into bed. I take four steps past the bakery and that’s when I see him, sitting there just like he did the morning I knew my life would never be the same.

  “Jenna,” Landon says as he stands, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “Why are you here, Landon?” I try not to look into his eyes, but it’s nearly impossible to resist them. It’s nearly impossible to resist Landon, period.

  “It took me a while to pick myself up off the floor after I read your letter. It’s a pretty shitty way to break up with someone. Add the fact that we were in Paris, France, and it rises in competition with breaking up via text message,” he says.

  “Landon…” I try.

  “I’m not done.” He takes in a deep breath and pulls his hands out of his pocket. “I don’t care. I know you’re only saying goodbye because you think you have to. The truth is, you don’t. If you really believe you have to run, then I’m coming with you.” Landon takes the back of my neck in his hand and presses our foreheads together. “I love you, Jenna, and I’m not letting you go.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” I say. “I won’t let you do that. You still haven’t found your mother. You can’t abandon your search for her just to follow me to God knows where. And I can’t guarantee that Dellinger isn’t going to find a new you to find me.” The idea of Landon giving up looking for his mother is heartbreaking.

  “You’re not asking me. I’m telling you. And, the truth is, if my mom wanted me to find her, she would have made sure I could. I have to let her go…because I think that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to stop taking care of her. She wanted me to have a better life than what we had with my father. I have that better life with you,” he tells me. My chest tightens as Landon talks about his mom. I can see that this conclusion is still painful for him.

  “It won’t be some romantic adventure, Landon. It’ll be a life of constant lies and deception…so much that we’ll forget what we’ve even told ourselves. That was my life for the first two years of being here in Chicago. I may have to live that life again, but I won’t let you. I love you, too, and that’s why I’m doing this alone.” I force my body to pull away from Landon’s and walk toward the door to my building.

  Landon grabs my arm as I start to move past him. “I found you when it was just my job. How much harder do you think I’m going to work to find you again now that I’m in love with you? Let me help you. Let me take care of you.”

  “You can’t just swoop in here like you’re going to rescue me. Until you fell for Dellinger’s lies and found me, I was doing just fine taking care of myself.” I jerk my arm away from him, trying a new approach to getting rid of him: bitch. Being honest about wanting to keep him safe obviously isn’t working. He’s clearly going to have to hate me in order to walk away. “Your own mom doesn’t even want you coming after her because she’s tired of you thinking it’s your job to take care of her. Get the clue, Landon. She doesn’t need you to save her and neither do I!”

  I leave Landon standing on the sidewalk, stunned and clutching his gut from my hurtful and insensitive words, and walk into my building. Saying those words to him were harder than writing
him the letter in France. I hate that being so awful to him was the only option I had, the only card I had left. I push the button for the elevator because I just don’t have the strength to walk up four floors today. I step inside and drop my bag on the floor as I lean my physically and emotionally weary body against the back wall of the elevator. The doors close in front of me and I realize that the only thing left to do now is let the tears fall.

  Chapter 18

  It’s been a week, and still no word from Dellinger. I have a feeling he’s waiting until he’s tracked my father down, along with whoever he sold the V Nickel to, before he contacts me. He’ll probably just send one of his thugs to come get me. That makes me think I should I go ahead and write the letters I want to write to Spring, Mercy, and Demi and have them ready. I don’t think that Dellinger is going to allow time for me to leave any kind of proper goodbye.

  Spring still calls or texts me a few times a day to make sure I’m still here and to make sure I’m doing ok. It’s also been a week without any word from Landon, which is what I wanted. My approach of hurting him has apparently worked and he’s walked away, just like he needed to do. He’ll get completely over me, and someday I’ll get over him, and we’ll both be the better for it. I shake my head to rid myself of thoughts of Landon. It’s hard to do, but in time it will become easier.

  Now seems as good a time as any to start sorting through my things. It won’t be much longer before Dellinger puts me to work and I figure I should have a bag packed and ready to go. It’s going to start getting cold here in Chicago in the next month or so, and unless he’s sending me to Australia, I guess I should pack jeans and pants. I grab a few pairs from the closet and throw them into the oversized duffel bag Oz gave me when we left DC. I never got rid of it because I was sure I’d be using it again one day to pack as many of my belongings as possible before I skipped town again.