Finding My Reason

by Claudia Burgoa

  Jade: Be supportive.

  Me: This would be easier if you were here. With me.

  Jade: So she can shred me to pieces? No, thank you.

  Another reason I avoid my sister. She can’t stand my girlfriend. Yet, here I am, stuck in my old man’s house with eight other people while Jenna’s house is fumigated. Little miss sunshine is too busy being the center of attention to care, I’m sure.

  “So, where’s that girlfriend of yours?” Jenna asks as soon as Robert ushers the older two rugrats to bed. My old bed.

  I snort at the not too subtle dig. “Funny, I thought you had a pet name for her. Evil bitch, was it?”

  She glares at me before checking on the baby in the bassinet next to her. Still sound asleep, as usual. “Shh, keep it down in front of the baby.”

  She’s got to be kidding. “It’s not like he can understand words yet.”

  Jenna swats my shoulder. Man, she can still pack a bite in that little arm of hers. “You can be so insensitive, you know that? You’ve grown up to be a real asshole, Hudson.”

  I gasp sarcastically. “Wow, so bitch is off the table but asshole isn’t?”

  “It’s an anatomically correct word.” My baby sister sticks her tongue out. How mature.

  “So is bitch,” I argue.

  “Is there a reason you showed up here?” she stops me curtly. “Other than to tell me you want to bail on Christmas? Again.”

  “Actually, it was Jade’s idea for me to come.” I flash her my best smug grin. “Something about showing my little sister some love and give a shit about her new spawn. She said it nicely, because unlike you, my girl is nice.”

  “How thoughtful of her,” Jenna deadpans. “She couldn’t be bothered to come herself?”

  I shake my head, deciding to pop a squat on the guestroom bed instead of continuing to look at her condescendingly. “Well, she would think of coming, if she weren’t concerned about getting eaten alive by you.”

  My sister groans, gracing me with her signature furrowed nose and squinted eyes of disgust. “Okay, just shut it, will you? I’m not some demonic sister-in-law. Not that she’s my sister-in-law. More like the girlfriend-in-turn.”

  “You got that right.” I chuckle. Even the thought of Jenna as a sister-in-law is laughable.

  That earns me a small laugh from her. “I know. It’s not like you two—”

  “What?” She always finds some new way to bash Jade. It’s ridiculous. No wonder I have trouble convincing Jade that my sister doesn’t hate her.

  “You know...” Her voice drops off like it’s as clear as day.

  “No, I don’t,” clear warning in my tone.

  “C’mon, Hud,” she insists. “You’ve been dating for two years, but you’ve known her for a lot longer.”

  “So?”

  She grabs her body pillow in order to hit me mercilessly. I laugh at her corny attempts.

  Jenna rolls her eyes. She calls me hopeless, but I know she loves me. “When are you going to take things to the next level?”

  I stop my antics, gaping at her like a fucking idiot. What’s the next level? Marriage? Fuck. Would she even want to get married? I don’t.

  She surmises a conclusion from my silence. And it’s probably the correct one. “That’s what I thought. She’s not the woman you want to marry. Do yourself a favor, think carefully about it. There’s no use in stringing her along.”

  I’m in no way stringing Jade along. We’re happy, and we will stay that way for as long as we make each other happy. If I’m lucky, she’ll never get tired of me. My sister, though, she holds that evil smile. How can she sound so cruel yet look content in her own little world? I’m not her puppet. “Honestly, Jenna, you disgust me sometimes.”

  “What can I say? I’m your conscience, here to kick your chicken ass into gear.”

  • • •

  January 1st, 2013

  “Drago, we’re on vacations.” I shut down my computer as my beautiful girlfriend calls me. She’s pointing her new camera toward me, waiting for what she calls the perfect shot. Or maybe she’s taking several shots at once to find just the right picture later when she’s home.

  Grabbing my phone from the table, I search for the camera app and take a picture of her. Her petite frame barely covered by a white bikini showing, those flawless curves I know by heart. Her bronzed skin is glowing, and curly hair hung in a messy bun. A few strands are blowing softly around her striking face. I bet some are covering the lens of her camera.

  My strikingly beautiful woman.

  “We released a new version of our billing software yesterday night,” I remind her.

  “Delegate,” she retorts lowering her camera and walking toward me. She pushes herself up on her tiptoes and kisses my chin. “We have an appointment in an hour.”

  “Couples message?” she threatened to book one when we checked into the hotel last week.

  “No. Scuba diving.” She smiles knowingly because I was about to tell her go by yourself. However, I wouldn’t let her go scuba diving by herself. And there’s no way to stop this woman from enjoying her vacations.

  “Fine, but I have to cover tonight.”

  She squares her shoulders, pushing her beautiful tits up and smirking at me. “We’ll see about that, Hudson Drago.”

  My dick twitches and I start thinking who I’ll call to cover tonight’s shift. She is right. I cleared my calendar to spend ten days in paradise with her.

  “Let’s go to our room,” I suggest, gathering all my things.

  She looks up, narrowing her gaze.

  “Scuba diving first,” she places her camera inside its case and places it inside her tote bag. “And don’t scowl at me, sir. You promised we’d do as many activities as I wanted to as long as they were before four. You get to choose our nights. The way we’ve always handle our trips.”

  Always. I brush my fingers along her cheek. Even before we started dating we talked about traveling the world. She’d take me to those places she had discovered and believed I’d love. Or maybe, we’d travel somewhere she hadn’t visited yet. I’ve heard the phrase: Living the dream, from an early age. Just like loving someone every day even more, or wanting to give up your life for the one you love. Today, I understand so many of those clichés I’ve heard while growing up.

  I only hope that the love we share never ends, and we continue making each other happy for as long as we live.

  Chapter 19

  Jade

  December 21st, 2013

  “So, you think this is it?” Claire asks as we walk through the crowded hallways of Cherry Creek Mall. Mike finally wrote his Christmas letter to Santa, and though his parents have bought most of his presents already, Hudson and I waited until we had the list to buy the biggest item. Because Santa always brings the best presents at our home. “I mean, Jade, it’s Paris. You’re having dinner in Le Jules Verne. The fancy restaurant on the Eiffel Tower.”

  Pressing my lips tightly, I wonder what to answer her. Yes, it’s Paris, but that doesn’t mean much. We travel often, and for New Year’s Eve, we’ve always gone to different places. Usually, he surprises me with the destination. This time around I know we’re going to Paris because he forgot to make dinner reservations in advance. Fortunately for him, Ben knows the chef. Unfortunately for him, I found out about his plans in advance.

  “We haven’t spoken about a future,” I say carefully.

  “Jade, you have dated him for three years, been in love almost since you met.” She uses her annoyed voice. Because in her head, she’s right and I’m acting like some martyr. I’m not. Hudson and I have a good thing going on. Patience is a virtue, and waiting for the right moment usually pays well. “Eleven years is long enough to solidify a relationship.”

  Ignoring her, I continue my way to the Apple Store, ask for an iPad and buy a kid-friendly case for it. Personally, I think the robotic arm he asked for was a better present, but Hudson disagreed with me. Wyatt chose a claw bot, which we bought a month a
go. That boy is easier to shop for. Not that we have favorites; both boys are special. One is the first godson, and the other is sweet as honey.

  “You’re going to be great at this,” Claire speaks after we leave the store.

  “Great at buying last minute presents?” I question her sanity. “Nah-uh. You and I both know I hate shopping during December.”

  She shakes her head and directs me to the lingerie section of Neiman Marcus. “Buy something pretty for the trip. My Christmas present for Hudson.” We both laugh. “I meant being a mother.”

  “Claire...” I sigh. “Can you please stop? Is Hudson going to propose during our trip? I don’t know, and that’s why I’m trying not to think about it.”

  Finally, it comes out, why I don’t want to talk about it and why I want her to stop. “You’re not the only one asking about it. Mom is too. Ben got us the best table because he wants the moment to be unique. But what if it’s not?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Instead of picking something sexy and pretty for my trip, I pull her outside the store and walk to the Starbucks kiosk. “Hudson likes to talk things through before doing them. He hasn’t touched the marriage subject—ever.”

  We both order peppermint mochas and take a seat close to Nordstrom. “Yes, a proposal in Paris would be perfect. I want it as much as I want to marry him and right next to having children with him. Is it going to happen? I doubt it, but there’s a sliver of hope inside my heart.”

  As I sip my coffee, I watch the young mothers pushing strollers with their beautiful babies. I long as I watch women walk along with their husbands while he carries their baby in his arms. Because I wish to have a family of my own, a baby, a husband and all that comes to the messy life of having an infant.

  “Will I be disappointed if he doesn’t propose?” I shift my gaze to the red cup of coffee. “Of course, but it won’t be the end of the world. Hudson’s mind works in a different way, and maybe he needs a few hints before he takes the next step. It’ll be longer, but I know in my heart that we’ll be celebrating our wedding and having a baby.”

  “You should stop the Depo injection,” she suggests, squeezing my hand. “I know for a fact it takes at least a year, sometimes more, to resume your period after you suspend its use, and a little more to get pregnant.”

  “Unbelievable, I bet you’re already organizing my bridal shower.” We both laugh when she nods.

  “Shower, wedding, I’m going to be there for you, always,” she adds, finishing her drink. “Now can we go back to buying something sexy? That should speed up your plans.”

  Hudson: Babe, when will you be home?

  Me: After buying some sexy clothing for the trip.

  Hudson: Sexy?

  Me: Pretty panties and a matching bra.

  Hudson: Add something to wear for tonight, I want to rip your clothes off and have you in all possible ways.

  Me: You’re paying?

  Hudson: Yes! Use the credit card I gave you. That’s why I handed it to you.

  D. H. Data, Hudson’s company, is doing great. The software he designs is used all over the world, and he not only sells the packages and installation, but he also sells training. The data storage service is one of the biggest in North America. From having a small dream years ago, now he has a big company that keeps growing. Hudson is a wealthy man, unlike his girlfriend who earns just enough to live comfortable and travel freely. Not that I travel much. My trips are limited to leisure and only when Hudson comes along. He insists on paying for things while I press that we have to split the cost of everything.

  Hudson: Hurry, you’ve been gone all day, and I miss you.

  Me: Love you!

  Hudson: Ditto.

  Me: (-_-)

  Hudson: I love you too. (Better?)

  Me: ❤

  He knows how much it bothers me when he doesn’t say I love you back. It’s a little quirk I have. He thinks it’s because of how I grew up, but I think it’s just because my heart stops with the thought of Hudson not loving me.

  • • •

  November 7th, 2015

  “How did it go?” Libby pushes the glass door, and we head outside the public parking lot.

  “I chickened out.” I search for my sunglasses. The weather is ridiculous. It snowed yesterday and today we have a kind of t-shirt weather. “Every time I think about doing it, I forget the basics of the English language.”

  “Propose to him,” she suggests.

  “Are you insane?” I look around trying to remember where is the taqueria we spotted a couple of months ago. “What was the name of that place?”

  “If we can’t find it, we can always go to the crepes place.” That’s the little hole in the wall on 3rd we discovered during our senior year of high school and continued visiting at least twice a year. “Back to your dilemma.”

  “My dilemma?” Great, my current relationship status has a title. “Why are we talking about it?”

  “Because last week you said you’d bring up the conversation over the weekend.” She points at the restaurant we were looking for, and we both groan when we step closer and read the sign: We’re moving. There’s a new address, and the opening date is December 2015. Ugh. “Crepes?”

  “Why not?” We turn around and head to one of our favorite places.

  “If you want something, work for it. Make it happen,” she suggests. “What is stopping you?”

  “That we’ve never discussed marriage. He has never mentioned it or said what’s going to happen to us long term. What if...?” I trail my gaze as my stomach churns with the fear of losing what we have because I’m trying to reach out for more. Or worse, realizing that we don’t have anything and by reaching out I’ll discover we’re a sham.

  We arrive at the little restaurant. A tall brunette shows us to a small table on the back of the restaurant and hands us the menus we know by heart.

  “What do you want, Jade?” Libby asks as the hostess leaves our side.

  “Swiss and ham?”

  She laughs and shakes her head. Her perfectly shaped strawberry-blonde eyebrow arches. “Out of your relationship.”

  “Marriage, children. I want us to be a family,” I conclude.

  “Does he know it?” I shake my head. “Tell him.”

  I rub my temples. She makes it sound so easy. “It is easy, right?”

  She nods placing a hand on top of mine. “He goes above and beyond to care for you. My guess is that he doesn’t know what you want.”

  “You’re great at relation advice. Why are you single?”

  “Those who can’t do, teach?” She shrugs, her gaze searching the waiter who comes over as she curls her index finger a couple of times calling him. My best friend is great at relationship advice, and deflecting subjects she hates to discuss. Like her love life—or the lack of it. “We’ll have two Swiss and ham crepes and share a lemon crème for dessert.”

  “Anything to drink?”

  “Just water,” she orders for me.

  “We are not drinking wine?”

  “Nope.” She shakes her head vigorously. “After this, you’re heading back home and will have a conversation with your man.”

  • • •

  December 4th, 2015

  My life has never been conventional, I get that. I never bought into the idea of a singular career. Which is why I didn’t stop traveling until a few years ago. A lot of my twenties was spent seeing places and meeting people most people can only dream of encountering. My mom always did what she could to support my brother and me. But at some point, our futures were our own destinies to behold.

  I’m pretty lucky to never run out of stories to tell people. I can’t help when I get a little jealous, though. As much as I love marching to my own beat, I feel like there’s nothing wrong with settling down at some point. I’m thirty-six years old. I don’t know if I’m a grown up yet. Who’s there to depend on me? Except for my boyfriend...at least I think we rely on each other.

  The
older I get and the longer we’re together, I keep wondering if we’re incomplete. Like we should be living a picket fence life by now instead of acting like we’re still in our 20s. I can’t push him into a life he doesn’t want, which is something I always worry about. At thirty-one, I was the cool girlfriend. I was “young” and “fun,” and I was finally back in the States. I didn’t know what “husband” material looked like, much less that I wanted it. Back then, I was a child with childish dreams. I’m in an entirely different place than I was back then.

  Libby says I used to be more fearless. I couldn’t disagree more. I used to deflect emotions by running off—either to a new continent or to get another drink. I was flirty and sometimes a little inappropriate, so people wouldn’t look passed that. I was hiding a very vulnerable psyche. Sometimes I wonder if Hudson fell in love with an idea of me instead of the real woman. Or worse, that he only loves me because he felt obliged to love me back.

  It’s this fear that grips me constantly, a balancing act. I try to remind myself I am enough, that he chose me. We’re in love, simple as that. As of late, I’ve been—maybe a little stupidly—hinting I want something more. I’ve been organizing couple’s parties and double dates. I’ve been babysitting Michael and Wyatt so much, Claire wants to give me a break and Brody wants to pay me. Whatever I can do to perpetuate an image of the “perfect partner.”

  So all I can do is try to shove my insecurities to the side and tell Hudson exactly what I want. I have to be brave. He won’t know what I need from him unless I ask him upfront...in theory. All year long I’ve been dropping these hints about marriage, houses and children. He disregards them all the same as if I talked about the blue sky and there’s no sense to even acknowledge my comments.

  Last month, I was so desperate to get across that I wanted something serious. One night we were out partying like we were both twenty-five. I pretended to be wasted and I told him as he tucked me in I wanted us to be together forever.

  He smiled charmingly and said, “Princess, we’re already together.”