Abstract Love

by Samantha Christy

“Oh, come on,” she says. “You have to know he is totally enamored with you.”

  I bask in silent victory for about two seconds before I remember a tiny little detail. And it’s called Morgan.

  “Uh . . . it’s not like that. We simply pass the time here,” I say, completely confused. “You do know about Morgan, don’t you?”

  “Of course, silly. And I love her. And I know Jace loves her. I’m just not sure he’s in love with her. Maybe he thinks he is, but I see them together. They are more like best friends, siblings even.” She shakes her head. “Ewww . . . I just had the worst visual.” She giggles.

  “But I’ve seen them together. She worships him,” I whisper. “I know she is having a hard time with this, but he is always telling me how great she is.”

  My phone vibrates.

  Jace: Don’t believe anything she says. Especially if she tells you how geeky and awkward I was as a teenager. Unless she is telling you that I’m an awesome brother, in which case, totally true.

  I smile up at him after reading his text. I study him and notice that his cheeks have filled out a little and he is not as pale. He is obviously putting on weight thanks to his new feeding tube. And he still dons that traitorous Dolphins ball cap.

  Me: Wouldn’t you like to know what she is telling me? Your deepest, darkest secrets maybe? Oh, and, Porky . . . lose the cap. You don’t need it anyway.

  I put the phone down even though it almost immediately vibrates. Not only because I don’t want to be rude to Jules, but I find myself in a position to learn things about Jace, so I decide not to waste precious moments.

  I look up at Jules who, like Tanner, has no boundaries and was apparently reading our text exchange. I raise my eyebrows at her.

  She doesn’t even blush or try to hide the fact that she was eavesdropping. “You guys are so cute with your banter.” She scoots her chair back over and holds up her hand to stop me from calling her out on it. “If we are going to be friends, Keri, you’ll have to get used to the fact that I’ll be all up in your business. Especially if you get with my brother. It’s just how I am.”

  “First off, you would get along very well with my roommate. Secondly, I’m not going to be ‘getting with’ Jace. I told you, it’s not like that,” I whisper.

  She cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes at me. “So you are saying that you don’t find my brother attractive?”

  “It’s not that—”

  “So you do find him attractive,” she interrupts.

  I blow an exasperated breath out. “Of course I do. I’m not blind. Even bald, thin and pale he is gorgeous. And he’s an artist. I mean, how sexy is that? But none of that matters. We aren’t going to get together. He said himself that he can’t have feelings for me.”

  She stares at me and I refuse to break eye contact. She needs to know I’m serious about this. “Just like I thought.” She nods her head. “You are crushing big time on my brother. It’s okay,”—she pops a stick of gum into her mouth—“most girls are. I get it. He’s all ‘dreamy’,” she air quotes and then rolls her eyes. “And just because he says he can’t have feelings for you doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings for you.”

  “But Morgan—”

  “Will eventually realize that Jace is not the guy for her,” she tries to finish my sentence, not at all saying what I was thinking. “Listen, Keri, our families have been joined at the hip since before any of us were born. We all grew up together. Morgan is like a sister to me. But it’s practically an arranged marriage.”

  My eyes go wide.

  She sees my reaction and puts her hand on my arm, laughing. “No, no, not like that. They aren’t engaged or anything. What I mean is that our parents have pushed them together. They’ve kind of brainwashed them into believing they are perfect for each other. But if you could see them together, like on a daily basis, you would notice that they don’t really act like a couple hopelessly in love. My brother is twenty-seven years old and they’ve been together since college. So why aren’t they engaged yet? I think that deep down, Jace knows she’s not the girl for him.”

  She looks down at her phone then says to Jace across the room, “Hold your horses, Number Three, I’m making a new friend over here.”

  “Number Three?” I question her.

  “He’s named after my dad and grandfather. He’s the third Jason. So, yeah, I started calling him that when I was little, you know, to piss him off and it kind of stuck. He hasn’t told you about our family?”

  “Uh, no. He mostly just asks about me I guess.”

  She turns her head toward Jace and gives him a mean stare with a shake of her head. Then she give me a big smile and says, “Well, I like you even more now, Keri.”

  “Huh . . . why?” I ask. Why would she like me more knowing that Jace and I mainly talk about me?

  “Never mind. He must have his reasons,” she mumbles.

  Then I remember one thing he does share with me. “Oh, but we do talk about his art. He is very talented. I’m not very cultured and I’ve never really enjoyed art, especially abstract art, I don’t really seem to understand it. But his paintings are incredible.”

  She nods her head and looks very proud of her brother. “Yes. He told me that you get it.”

  “That I get it?”

  “His art. He told me that you get it. That you were dead-on in your interpretations of his paintings. That no one else has ever seen the deeper meaning to his art. That you two share some kind of cosmic connection.”

  Cosmic connection? I wonder about this for a minute while I sign the ‘graduation’ cards for Marjorie and Peggy that Stacy is circulating. Jace feels it, too? Then I frown. Because I know this all stems from the fact that we basically feel alone in this world. We both have cancer at a young age and nobody else can relate to us. I recall hearing in a movie one time that relationships that are based on intense circumstances, generally don’t work out in the long run. Maybe if we both go into remission we wouldn’t have anything in common anymore. Nothing to build on.

  I blow out a deep breath and curse myself for what I’m thinking. Because, for the first time, the only time, I—just for a split second—was glad that I got cancer because it allowed me to meet Jace.

  “So . . .” Jules pulls me back from my thoughts. “You were saying about this roommate of yours?”

  I proceed to tell her about Tanner. Then we talk about school. By the time she goes back over to say goodbye to Jace, we’ve become fast friends. She hugs me, gives me her number and tells me that when I feel up to it, we should go out. She promised to stop by the club sometime. I think that it would be nice to have a female friend. I mean, I sometimes used to hang out with the bartenders and waitresses from the club on our night off, but most of the time it’s just Tanner and me. I vow to call her when I’m feeling better.

  I look down at my phone and see the barrage of texts that came from Jace when I was ignoring him.

  Jace: Porky?

  Jace: Uh, Keri, what did Jules just say to you? You’re eyes went all wide.

  Jace: Believe nothing.

  Jace: Do you know how hard it is to sit here and watch you two when I know you must be talking about me. I mean, what could be so interesting?

  Jace: Porky?

  I laugh as I read them. It must have been killing him watching us together.

  Me: Yes, Porky. I mean, go on a diet already. Geez, you must have put on ten pounds last week.

  Jace: Eight actually. And thanks for noticing. Not many other people did.

  I wonder if he is talking about Morgan. Does she even look at him? How can anyone not see how incredibly gorgeous he is? I wonder about what Jules said to me. Maybe they do love each other but aren’t really in love. But I’m not a fool, I know that a lot of people spend their lives together simply because they think they should. Not every relationship is like a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movie. People don’t always find their way to the perfect partner. People get comfortable in a relationship and just stay
there. I know, I saw it firsthand. My parents loved each other, I know they did and they always got along. But, I’m not sure they were really in love. They didn’t hold hands or whisper things to each other when they thought I wasn’t looking. They were high school sweethearts that got married. Because they thought they should. Because it was the next logical step.

  Someone walks through the main doors, pulling me from my daydream. I look up to see that it’s a delivery person. She has two baskets full of what look like pampering products. She talks to Stacy who directs her over to Marjorie and Peggy. They get wide eyed when the baskets are placed in their laps. They look at each other and then tear into the cards that are on top of the baskets.

  “Oh my goodness!” Peggy squeals. “It’s a gift certificate to The J Spot. It’s for a full day of pampering.” She turns the card over and looks at the basket. “There is no name on it. What about yours Marjorie?” Everyone looks over at Marjorie.

  Everyone but me that is. The J Spot. It is the same swanky spa over in Clearwater where I had ‘won’ my spa day.

  I look over at Jace to see how much he is enjoying the two women revel in delight. The smile on his face is one of joy. It’s so rare to see someone take pleasure in the happiness of virtual strangers. Is that why he sent it to me? But, how did he get my address? It must have been Stacy.

  Me: It was you. You sent me the gift certificate to the spa. But, why?

  Jace: I have no idea what you are talking about, Keri.

  I look up at him and he smiles at me and then shrugs. I look into his eyes. Even from twenty feet across the room, I can see the brilliant green of his irises. His text may have said he didn’t send it, but his eyes—they are telling me something completely different.

  ~ ~ ~

  Before work on Saturday, Tanner and I run some errands. We stop by The Freeway Station to drop off some baked goods I made for the kids. Tanner catches up with some of the residents there. He used to come by more often, but since he has taken on so much more work to help pay my medical bills, he rarely gets to volunteer. I know he is having a hard time with it. I am, too. I know that volunteering helps to keep him on the straight and narrow. Sometimes I feel that he could slip back into his old ways, but then he will work a shift at Freeway and realize how far he has come since we were there and it is enough to keep him lawful. I know how easy it would be for him to fall off the wagon and make easy money. Especially since he knows I could use it. But so far, he’s been keeping to his renewed set of moral standards, even though he is breaking his back to help me out. I pray he can continue on this path. It would kill me to know that I was the one that sent him back to the dark places he came from. Especially because he is doing all this to pay me back for helping him out years ago.

  After The Freeway Station, we go to the salon to get Tanner a haircut. I always offer to do it for him, but quite frankly, I think he has a crush on Kevin, the stylist that cuts his hair. So he shells out forty bucks—that he can’t afford—every month just to have Kevin rub his hands all through his hair. I roll my eyes as I watch Tanner getting his cut with a huge smile on his face.

  I’m sitting in the vacant stylist chair between Tanner and another girl getting her hair done for a school dance. She is so adorable. She must be about sixteen and she is telling her hairdresser all of the details about her night ahead. I smile thinking about how carefree her life is and how I hope it stays that way. I never went to any school dances at her age. I was the freak who bounced around foster homes until I landed at The Freeway Station.

  My stomach rolls. I’m overwhelmed by the smell of the electrical element of the hair dryer combined with the stench of the flat iron as it heats up only a few feet from where I’m sitting. I jump out of my seat and run to the door.

  “Keri!” Tanner runs out after me just in time to see me hurl in the bushes that line the sidewalk in front of the hair salon. He rubs my back as I wretch until there is nothing left in my stomach.

  A woman comes out of the salon and offers him a bottle of water and some napkins to give to me. He thanks her and when I can stand up straight again, he helps me organize my disheveled appearance.

  “I’m sorry, Tan. It was the smell . . .”

  “God, Keri. You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. I get it. I was pretty much done anyway. I’ll go pay Kevin and we can get out of here.”

  I nod at him, mortified that I just tossed my cookies in front of a dozen strangers who are now staring at me from inside the large front windows of the salon. Just one more thing to make people feel sorry for me. I kick the large cement column next to me.

  Chapter Eight

  I’m already hooked up with poison dripping into my veins when Jace walks through the door. I immediately notice that he has put on a few more pounds. I also notice that he has decided to go au naturel and not cover up his bald head. He smiles at me as he pretends to spit into his hand and rub it on his head. He is obviously in a good mood today.

  My heart skips a few beats and I realize just how much I was looking forward to seeing him. Chemotherapy has become the highlight of my week. I wonder how many people can say that. It is crazy. Especially knowing what I will feel like tonight. But even the thought of throwing up so much that it feels like someone has reached an arm down my throat and pulled my stomach out through my esophagus, doesn’t keep me from walking on air all weekend in anticipation of Monday morning.

  Jace: Why the big smile? That happy to see me?

  Oh, crap. He caught me daydreaming. About him.

  Jace: Kidding. But I’m happy to see you. Do you think it’s strange that I actually look forward to chemo?

  Did he really just say that? I re-read the text. I swear the man can read my thoughts sometimes.

  Me: Not so much.

  I stare at him and he simply nods his head in understanding. Then we both turn to see strangers walking through the main doors. Stacy greets them, shuffles around some files and turns to introduce them to us. “This is Eileen, who is joining us for sixteen cycles. And this is Jenny who will be here for twelve.”

  They both look to be in their fifties. My eyes immediately go to their breasts as everyone says their hellos. Jenny has an ample chest, highlighted by the pretty blouse she is wearing. But, it looks like Eileen might have had a double mastectomy. Either that or her boobs are really, really small. I close my eyes and pray for the latter. Then I suddenly realize that once again, I’m putting on a public display of self-affection. I quickly look around, relieved that nobody has caught me cupping my breasts like an internet porn star. Least of all Jace, who hands a written note over to Steven as they hold a conversation.

  Steven is old enough to be Jace’s dad. That gets me wondering about his parents. He never talks about them. They haven’t ever been here to support him. If I had a child, you can bet that no matter how old they were, I’d be here. Just like Melanie’s mom comes to almost every visit. Just like John’s dad pops in now and then and my guess is that his dad has got to be pushing ninety years old. Yet he still shows up.

  When I see that Jace and Steven have finished talking I send him a text.

  Me: You never talk about your parents. Is it because mine are dead and you don’t want to make me feel bad? Because it’s okay to tell me about them.

  Jace: No, that isn’t why. There isn’t much to say. I love them, but I’m not much like them. Sometimes I wonder if Jules and I are really adopted.

  Me: What do you mean you aren’t like them?

  Jace: I guess I would say they are ostentatious. And that might be putting it mildly. Don’t get me wrong, I love them. And I know they love me, in their own narcissistic way. Let’s just say my mom didn’t come today because she had an important meeting with her gardening club. Not that she gardens. In fact I’ve never seen her even so much as chip a nail. But she does it to be social. And my dad . . . off for a long golfing weekend with his so-called friends who are really just fellow narcissists.

  Me: You are definitely adopted.<
br />
  He laughs at my quick response while stretching out his fingers from his fast typing. I can’t imagine Jace being raised by such people. He is the opposite of a narcissist. In fact, I’ve never seen someone do so many anonymous deeds simply to make others happy. I have a hard time believing they are as bad as he portrays them. They must have done something right to raise such a selfless man.

  I’m about to ask him what his parents do for a living when the main doors open and in walks Morgan, carrying a couple of drinks from Starbucks. My heart sinks. And then it practically implodes when I see her give him a kiss. He works his hand around her neck and holds her there for a beat and then he kisses her on the tip of her nose when they part. It’s such a sweet gesture, and if I weren’t teeming with jealousy right now I might get all gooey inside.

  She whispers something to him and he closes his eyes briefly before he reaches around and pulls a ball cap out of his back pocket and puts it on his head. He glances my way briefly after he puts on the cap and gives me a small shrug.

  Morgan is all smiles when she walks over to me and hands me a tall Starbuck’s latte. “Jace said you are a big fan, so I thought I would bring you one to thank you for being such a good friend to him. Plus, I still think he feels guilty about spilling one all over you.” She smiles sweetly back at him and he locks eyes with her.

  I, on the other hand, am not all peaches and freaking cream inside. Jace talks to her about me? I’m so incredibly bummed that he shared the whole latte experience with her. I can’t believe that I thought—even for a second—that what we had here was anything more than a simple friendship. A mild flirtation even.