What I Want

by LN Cronk

  “Jane Austen wrote it,” I said proudly. “That’s her longest sentence ever. A hundred and ninety-three words.”

  She looked at me with her mouth slightly open.

  “It’s from Persuasion,” I added. “Your favorite.”

  “I . . . I know,” she said. “But . . . did you write this?”

  I nodded.

  “But it’s so perfect!” she exclaimed. “How did you space it out like that so that it came out exactly right and everything?”

  “Simple math,” I said, shrugging. “I calculated the surface area and divided by how many characters there were – almost eleven hundred including all of her stupid semicolons – and then I just divided and that gave me almost nine square centimeters for each letter.”

  She laughed. “How many umbrellas did you go through trying to make this?”

  “Including this one? Four.”

  “You are so sweet,” she said, leaning forward and kissing me on the lips. “I love it.”

  “Speaking of anniversary presents,” I said, sniffing, “I noticed earlier that you’re wearing your perfume again. Does that mean that you don’t want me kissing your neck?”

  “It’s not on my neck,” she answered mischievously.

  “Where’d you put it?”

  “Nowhere you’re going to be kissing,” she said. “At least not tonight.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  She giggled and shook her head.

  “Sounds like a challenge to me,” I argued, and I moved toward her.

  “No!” she shrieked as I dove to attack.

  Josette squealed with laughter. The umbrella clattered to the floor.

  She may have moved out, but the fact remained that Josette and I still had the entire house to ourselves anytime we wanted, and there really wasn’t anything to stop the two of us from doing whatever we wanted. Both of us knew that it was only a matter of time before we were going to need to establish some self-imposed boundaries, or pretty soon we were going to get ourselves into trouble. In the meantime, though, I didn’t worry about it. I just enjoyed kissing her.

  ~ ~ ~

  JOSETTE AND I were planning to eat lunch together on Monday as we usually did, but she texted me about an hour before we were supposed to meet and told me that she was running late. She said she would stop by the lab and get me as soon as she could, and I told her to hurry up because I was hungry.

  Everyone else in my research group went on to lunch, so by the time Josette snuck up behind me and covered my eyes with her hands, I was the only one left in the room.

  “Guess who?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, “but my girlfriend’s supposed to be here any minute so you’d better get out of here before she catches you.”

  “Aww, I’m not afraid of her,” Josette said, leaning down and kissing my neck.

  “I am,” I replied, and she laughed, wheeling my chair around so that I was facing her. I put my hands on her hips and pulled her toward me, kissing her lips.

  It was a rather fast kiss because it was so late and because I was so hungry. I’m not saying that it wasn’t a nice kiss, I’m just saying that it wasn’t magical and that it didn’t give me butterflies in my stomach.

  We were comfortable with each other now, and it was just a regular kiss.

  If I’d known what was about to happen, I would have made more out of it.

  ~ ~ ~

  AT LUNCH WE started arguing about whether we should take a vegetable tray or brownies to the covered dish lunch at church on Wednesday evening.

  “We can take most of them with us,” I said, rooting hard for the brownie idea, “but save a few out for ourselves.”

  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “I know what ‘a few’ means coming from your mouth. We’re going to wind up taking about five to the dinner.”

  “We can make two batches.”

  “Or we can just do vegetables,” she said again.

  “Why don’t we do brownies and vegetables?” I suggested.

  “Because we don’t need to be eating a bunch of brownies!”

  “We won’t,” I insisted. “We’ll take most of them to church.”

  “Um-hmm,” she said skeptically.

  “All this talk about brownies is making me think some dessert is in order,” I said, looking past her shoulder to the wall where the menus were posted.

  She didn’t answer me and I vaguely noticed that she was looking over my shoulder as well, to the door that led out of the cafeteria.

  “You want a milkshake?” I asked. “Or do you want some of mine?”

  She didn’t answer.

  I waited for her to make some comment about how unfair it was that I could drink ten milkshakes a day and never gain a pound but all she had to do was take one spoonful of mine and she wouldn’t be able to fit into her jeans the next day.

  She still didn’t answer me, however, her eyes staying focused on something just past my shoulder.

  “Josie?” I asked. “Do you want one or not?”

  I watched as her mouth slowly dropped open and her eyes widened in silent shock.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, but before I could turn around to see what Josette was staring at, someone spoke from behind me.

  “Hace tiempo que no te veo, Marco.”

  Long time, no see, Marco.

  Bizzy.

  I felt my own eyes widen and I turned around.

  “Bizzy?”

  She was holding her cane in one hand and had her other hand on the arm of Jason, an undergraduate who worked in the lab two doors down from mine. She smiled that beautiful smile of hers.

  “I told you I thought he was here,” Jason said to her.

  “Thank you,” she said. She took her hand off his arm.

  “No problem,” he said, giving me and Josette a little wave before he turned and left.

  I stood up and turned my back on Josette to face Bizzy.

  “Bizzy,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” she said, still smiling.

  “Well . . . congratulations.”

  She continued to smile and obviously expected a hug or something so I gave her one. After we pulled away from one another, she turned her face toward Josette. I don’t have a clue how Bizzy knew she was there.

  “I’m Bizzy,” she said, extending her hand. Josette stood up.

  “I’m Josette.” They shook hands.

  “Oh,” Bizzy said. “Marco’s roommate. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Josette said, reaching for her purse. “Well, I’d better get going.”

  I wanted to tell her not to go, but I just stood there, speechless, barely able to believe what was happening.

  “Please don’t go on my account,” Bizzy said, losing her smile for the first time.

  “No, no,” Josette said. “I need to get going. Have a nice visit.”

  “Thank you,” Bizzy said, her face following the sound of Josette’s footsteps as she headed quickly toward the door.

  “I hope she didn’t leave just because of me,” Bizzy said, turning toward me again.

  “What are you doing here, Bizzy?” I asked, finally finding my voice.

  She was quiet for a moment before she answered me softly.

  “I thought about what you said,” she eventually said. “And I was wrong. We love each other and we should be together. I shouldn’t have put you off.”

  My voice left me again.

  “But I won’t put you off anymore,” she said, standing before me expectantly.

  It took a minute before I wasn’t speechless anymore, before I could say, “We need to go somewhere where we can talk.”

  It was then that the first look of doubt crossed her face.

  “Am I too late?” she asked softly.

  I looked at her for another moment and pressed my lips together.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to take her hand. />
  She closed her eyes and pressed her own lips together, shaking her head slightly and then turning her face from me.

  After a moment she took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and turned toward me again.

  “Let’s sit down,” I suggested. The middle of the cafeteria wasn’t necessarily the best place to have this conversation, but I could tell that Bizzy wasn’t exactly going to fall apart or anything.

  We sat and I told her I was really sorry again and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “It’s okay,” she finally said, squeezing my hand in return.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” I told her.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” she said. “It’s my own fault.”

  “No–” I started to argue, but she cut me off.

  “Grace told me I was an idiot,” she said.

  “Grace?”

  Bizzy nodded. “When she got back from her honeymoon, I told her that you’d proposed to me, and she said I was being stupid. She said I was never going to find anybody who was as good of a person as you are and that I was making a huge mistake if I let you get away.”

  “Grace said that?”

  She nodded.

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Why is it too late?” she wanted to know.

  I was quiet.

  “Is there someone else?” Bizzy asked.

  This time I answered. “Yes.”

  “Is it Josette?” Bizzy asked, nodding in the direction Josette had headed off.

  I hesitated for a moment but then, very quietly, answered, “Yes.”

  She pursed her lips one more time and shook her head again.

  “Nothing was going on before,” I said hastily.

  “How long have you been seeing her?”

  “Two weeks.”

  She thought about that for a moment.

  “And you’re already serious about her?”

  “Yes.”

  “How serious?”

  “I love her.”

  How odd it was that I was sitting here telling Bizzy that I loved Josette when I hadn’t even told Josette that I loved Josette.

  Suddenly I couldn’t wait to find her and let her know.

  “That seems awfully fast,” Bizzy observed.

  “Nothing was going on,” I promised again. Then I added, “But I have known her for almost a year. We already knew each other pretty well.”

  Bizzy sighed in resignation.

  “I’m really sorry,” I repeated earnestly.

  “It’s okay,” she assured me. “I’ll be okay.”

  “I know you will be,” I smiled. “I’ve never worried about that.”

  She gave me a small, appreciative smile of her own.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered, shaking her head.

  “What’s your schedule?”

  “I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here, so I got an open-ended ticket,” she explained. “I guess I’ll probably go back tomorrow.”

  “No,” I argued. “You can’t come all the way to Australia and only stay for one day. You need to hang around.”

  “I don’t–” she began, shaking her head.

  “I know a place we can go where you can stick your hand inside of a kangaroo’s pouch,” I interrupted.

  “Stick your hand inside a kangaroo’s pouch?” she repeated slowly.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Isn’t that kind of weird?”

  “Possibly,” I grinned.

  She smiled back.

  “You don’t think your new girlfriend’s going to have a problem with you spending a bunch of time with your old girlfriend?”

  “Nah,” I said, feeling myself smile again. “That’s one thing about Josie. She doesn’t sweat the small stuff.”

  A few hours later I dropped Bizzy off at her hotel with the promise that I’d be back in time to pick her up for dinner.

  She wanted to clean up and rest up.

  I wanted to see Josette.

  On the drive over to her apartment, I thought how strange it was that Josette and I hadn’t said “I love you” to each other, but I knew that she loved me just as much as I loved her. I felt more loved by Josette – even though she had never said it once – than I had ever felt loved by Bizzy – even though Bizzy used to say it all the time.

  Like I said before . . . everything is upside down in Australia.

  ~ ~ ~

  AS I PARKED in front of Josette’s new apartment, I found myself wishing that I’d stopped and gotten flowers or redeemed my credit at the jewelry store or something. I couldn’t wait any longer to see Josette though, and I jumped out of my car and took the steps to her apartment two at a time.

  When I arrived at her door, I knocked and stood in the hallway outside, rocking anxiously back and forth on my heels. After what seemed like a very long moment, Josette finally opened the door.

  She looked horrible.

  There was no “Hello.” No hug. No trace of a smile.

  Just sadness.

  I looked at her in surprise. Was she honestly worried that I might choose Bizzy over her? Did she not have a clue how I felt about her?

  “I love you,” I said. “I love you more than anything on this earth. I don’t know why I haven’t told you that already and I’m sorry, but I love you and you’re the only person I ever want to be with.”

  I was expecting my hug or a smile or something at this point, but she didn’t move.

  “I didn’t know she was coming,” I said quickly. “I told her right away that I loved you and that she was too late.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Marco,” Josette said quietly, and she dropped her eyes to the floor.

  “Of course I should have,” I said. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I love you . . . not Bizzy. You.”

  She was silent for another moment and then she lifted her head and looked me in the eyes.

  “Stuart called,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I said, ‘Stuart called’.”

  I looked at her, uncomprehending. It took a very long moment for it all to register, but when it did, I slowly started shaking my head.

  “No,” I said, shaking harder.

  “About two hours ago,” she replied, nodding in return. “He wants to try to work things out.

  “You’re getting a divorce,” I protested.

  “Two more weeks and it would have been finalized,” she agreed. “But he wants to get back together.”

  “No,” I said again, shaking my head more.

  She looked at me unhappily and didn’t say anything.

  “You can’t go back to him,” I said desperately.

  “I have to,” she answered. “He’s my husband.”

  “Is that what you want?” I asked, incredulous.

  “This isn’t about what I want,” she said forcefully. “He’s my husband.”

  I stared at her, hoping that this was all just some big lie she’d concocted to get even with me because Bizzy had shown up or something.

  But it wasn’t.

  “What about that girl he was living with?” I asked.

  “I guess they broke up.”

  “You guess?”

  “They . . . they did. They broke up.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, now sounding flustered. “They just broke up.”

  “And so he suddenly wants to get back together with you and you’re just fine with everything?”

  “It doesn’t matter if I’m fine with it or not,” she answered impatiently. “This is what God wants me to do and it’s what I’m going to do.”

  “How do you know it’s what God wants you to do?” I asked.

  “Because,” she cried, waving her hand in the air, her voice rising. “It says in the Bible that if a woman has an unbelieving husband and he’s willing to live with her, then she’s not supposed to divorce him.”

  I wanted to sha
ke my head at her again, but I couldn’t.

  “And besides,” she added quietly, “that’s why He brought Bizzy to you today.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, Marco,” Josette insisted. “It’s not a coincidence that she showed up today of all days. God knows that Bizzy’s who you’re supposed to be with and Stuart’s who I’m supposed to be with and He’s working everything out for both of us.”

  “No,” I said again.

  “Look,” she said softly. “I know this might not be what you want right now, but one day you’re going to look back on this and see that God was in control and that He knew what was best for you all along.”

  “You’re what’s best for me.”

  She looked at me miserably for another moment but then took a step backward into her apartment.

  “You need to go, Marco. Go find Bizzy and make things right with her.” And then Josette stepped all the way back into her new apartment and closed the door in my face.

  ~ ~ ~

  REMEMBER HOW PLEASED I was with myself when Bizzy broke up with me and I discovered that my faith was so strong?

  What a crock.

  ~ ~ ~

  I WAS AN adulterer.