My Body-Mine

by Blakely Bennett

  As I trudged up the path to the front door, I knew that my vow to end the relationship with Marcello had to be put on hold so I could offer him the support he needed.

  I opened the door and found Janice on the couch, in shorts and a tank.

  She looked me up and down and said, “Put on some other clothes and go to him. He needs you.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “We can worry about me later, okay? I’m not good in these situations and I have no idea what to do or say to him.”

  Waving for her to follow me, I asked, “When did he find out?”

  “About an hour ago. We had just gotten home.”

  I threw the clothes in my arms on the floor of my room and hurriedly peeled off Chase’s shirt and pajama bottoms. Slipping on my gray sweats and pink T-shirt, I asked, “When is he leaving?”

  “His flight leaves in three hours or so.”

  “Study?” I asked as I headed toward the hallway.

  “Yes, and Jane?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for coming back.”

  “Of course.” I gave her a slight smile before running down the hall toward Marcello.

  I paused outside his office and put out to the universe my hope that he’d let me be there for him, even though he must be furious with me. Taking a deep breath to steel myself against his reaction, I knocked. When he didn’t respond, I pushed the door open.

  He glanced up at me and my heart melted. He appeared so young and dejected, I just wanted to scoop that huge towering man into my arms and carry him to his bed like a little child. I wanted to take his pain away, as he had done for me.

  “I’m so sorry, Marcello,” I said, waiting for a sign that he wanted me to come closer.

  “Jane,” he muttered, and I knew.

  Moving in, I reached out my hand. He took it and allowed me to lead him through the study door over to his bed. We both lay down, and I wrapped myself around him, hugging him tight. He held my head to his chest as the racking sobs shook him.

  I felt his pain in my heart, knowing how much his mother meant to him. Tears filled my eyes as I listened to his sorrow spilling out. I truly loved Marcello, and as he suffered, I grieved along with him.

  As his weeping slowly subsided, I touched his face, wiping away the tears. He leaned down and kissed me. The world, our issues, his mother’s condition all went away as his lips touched mine. Tears cascaded down both of our faces as we sought refuge in each other.

  Breaking off our brief union, he said, “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for letting me be here.”

  He stroked my hair and said, “I have to pack, shower and get ready to go.”

  “Would you like me to come with you?”

  Gazing down at me, Marcello didn’t speak right away. I could feel his sadness and knew some of it had to do with me.

  “I think we both could use this time apart, and my mother would hate anyone else seeing her right now.”

  “I understand. Will she be okay?”

  “The doctors don’t know yet. It seems the stroke has affected her left side and she can’t speak.”

  “If you change your mind at any point, I’ll only be a flight away.”

  He kissed my forehead and lingered there. “Please look after Janice while I’m gone. I’m sure she’ll need some time to process tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  We both got a reprieve of sorts in dealing with our situation, but it would have to be confronted at some point. I loved him in my own way, but our time had passed. I hoped with every fiber of my being that we’d find a place of love and friendship for each other and stay in each other’s lives.

  * * * *

  After Marcello left, I napped for a few hours, and then loaded up Facebook before jumping into reviewing and editing Falling Through The Rabbit Hole. Lost in the world of my past, the message sound on Facebook brought me around.

  Sandy: You on?

  Jane: I’m here. 

  Sandy: How’s it going?

  Jane: Busy revising my book, which is going very well.

  Sandy: Would another time be better?

  Jane: Now is perfect.

  Sandy: I have some news.

  I held my breath, hoping.

  Jane: Do tell.

  Sandy: We set a date.

  I jumped out of my seat and danced the jig around my room. Huge relief swam through my blood stream, allowing another chunk of the past to fall away.

  Jane: Fucking awesome Sandy. I’m so happy for you and Jason. When? When? When?!

  Sandy: LOL! I knew you’d be happy for us. Six months from now. Frankly, if it were just up to us, we’d elope, but his mother is crazed to be involved, so we’re doing the whole shebang.

  Jane: Let me know what I can do to help.

  Sandy: Glad you asked. I know I probably don’t deserve you, but I’d love you to be my maid of honor.

  I burst into tears and cried as I typed.

  Jane: Given all that has happened, I’m floored that you’d ask. Yes, of course!

  Sandy: Phew! Jason said you’d say yes.

  Jane: Can I ask you something?

  Sandy: I know what you’re going to say. One night Jason said, if Jane can get over her ordeal, why can’t you?

  Jane: Ah.

  Sandy: So I really thought about it and decided it was time to take the chance, and Jason is so great. It felt silly to wait any longer.

  Jane: I’m so happy for you guys. Please give my love to Jason.

  Sandy: I will. Jane?

  Jane: Yeah?

  Sandy: Thank you for saying yes. It means the world to me.

  Jane: Love you, Sandy.

  Sandy: I love you too.

  Overcome with both relief and sorrow, I climbed onto my bed and cried.

  As I lay there recovering, I heard Janice moving around. Wanting to check in on her, I splashed water on my face and went to her room.

  Knocking lightly on her door, I heard her say, “Come in.”

  “Hey,” I said as I perched on the edge of her bed.

  Janice stood naked in front of her closet deciding what to wear. Her back had crisscross welts from neck to mid-thigh.

  “Does it hurt?” I asked.

  “Not so much,” she said to her closet.

  “Do you want me to rub in the healing salve?”

  She turned to face me and said, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “I might not agree with your choices but I still care about you, Janice. This crazy world we’re in can try anyone’s resolve.”

  Facing her clothes once again, she took a black sleeveless shift from a hanger and drew it over her head. “Well I don’t think I deserve it. Not from you. Thank you for coming home.”

  “I always planned to come back, if only to settle things with Marcello once and for all. His mother’s stroke has put a temporary hold on my plans. What are you going to do?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and said, “I don’t know.”

  “Did the event help?”

  “No, although for the most part I enjoyed myself.”

  “Get the fuck out of town, you must be joking!”

  She smiled and said, “I’m not.”

  I shook my head at her, and wondered what brought a person to crave so much pain. I still questioned that about myself. I remembered Christian saying that just a matter of degrees separated us. Maybe he was right but I still found it baffling.

  “Have you heard from Luke?” I asked. I had wanted to ask that question ever since I saw the couch flipped around at the beach house.

  “Yes, I have.”

  A wave of prickly energy thrummed through my body. I stood and said, “When? Why didn’t you say something?” I felt my pulse beating rapidly in my throat. “What did he want?”

  “About a week ago. He had money to give me and asked about my life and how the situation was working in the house with the three of us.”

  “You saw him? What did you
say?”

  “Jane, I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  Janice stood defiantly in front of me. What had I done to her that made her so … hurt or angry?

  “You’re right, you don’t.” I couldn’t think of what to say, so I finally forced myself to leave Janice, when I really wanted to shake the truth out of her.

  As I turned, she touched my sleeve and said, “He asked about you.”

  I snapped to attention.

  “Marcello already told him about the book and I said you were well.”

  “That’s it?”

  “No. I also told him Marcello is gaga over you. He said that wasn’t news to him.”

  “And?”

  “He asked if you were gaga over Marcello.”

  I held my breath, waiting for her to continue.

  “I said, I didn’t think so.”

  “Is that it?”

  “The pertinent parts, yes.”

  “Thank you for telling me. You and me—is that ever going to sort out?”

  “I’ve only ever experienced jealousy once in my life, and you’re the one. I wish it weren’t that way and if wishes were rainbows, it would be a beautiful world.”

  “Do you think you and Marcello will sort things out once I’m gone?”

  “I honestly don’t know what is left for me and Marcello. He has asked me to stay, so I guess we’ll see,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Okay. Well … I’ll be around if you want to talk again,” I said, leaving her room and the ball in her court.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The weeks went by quickly. I spoke or texted with Marcello each day as his mother slowly recovered from her stroke. Still unable to speak, she did have use of her right hand and could communicate with Marcello through writing. She adamantly refused to move into his home and I knew Marcello wouldn’t leave her side until she fully recovered. Her mobility was improving, leaving her doctors and Marcello encouraged.

  As I reviewed the proofs of my manuscript, the phone jostled me out of the world of my story. I reached over to pick it up and saw my mother’s name on the Caller ID. How odd, I thought. My mother would chide me—any time I had worked up the nerve to reach out to her, that is—about how I never called or came to see her, but it had been months since she had rung me up. Worried there might be a crisis, I put my work aside and answered.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said. “This is a surprise.”

  “I wanted to speak to you. It’s been months.”

  “I’m glad you called,” I said. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Worried about you but all right.”

  “I’m doing fine, Mom, truly. I’m better now.”

  “Still living at Marcello’s?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “I worry about him as much as I did with Luke. I still remember him from the wedding and how he snatched the bouquet from Sandy. She’d probably be married already if it weren’t for him,” she said, finishing the statement with a tut-tut.

  “They set the date so you can take that off your list of concerns.”

  “That is good news,” she replied. “I always really liked Sandy.”

  Her response took me by surprise. “You’re welcome to come to dinner here if you’d like.”

  “I’d much rather meet for lunch in our usual place, just you and me.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. I wanted to tell her about my book but not over the phone. “When are you free?”

  “Well, let me check my organizer,” she said.

  Organizer? Was she being sarcastic? Usually I could tell.

  I, like everyone else, wanted to love my mother but she sure made it challenging at times. I took a calming breath and said, “Tomorrow at noon?”

  “Let’s make it 12:30 p.m.”

  “Thanks for the call, Mom, and I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  Seeing my mother—never at the top of favorites on my task list—would at least occupy some of the time until Marcello returned home.

  After ending the call with my mother, I hopped onto Facebook to check my messages. I found one from Chase.

  Chase: You might get a call from Parker.

  I typed in my response hoping I would catch him.

  Jane: You still on?

  Chase: Here.

  Jane: Why is Parker calling?

  Chase: Well, evidently the woman I went out with the night I came and got you is a friend of a friend who works at their office.

  Jane: And you told her you ended the date because of me?

  Chase: No, but you know what she’s like.

  Jane: You mean relentless?

  Chase: LOL! Your words, not mine.

  Jane: Thanks for the warning.

  Chase: Any more news on Marcello’s mother?

  Jane: Her mobility is improving and he sounds much more encouraged.

  Chase: Will he be back in time for the signing party?

  Jane: I don’t think so.

  Chase: Parker, Andre, and I will be there.

  Jane: Great!

  Chase: Did you invite anyone else?

  Jane: No, it’s really not a big deal since only a limited number of review copies of my book will be available, and there will be other authors there who are already established. I’ll invite everyone once I have my own book signing.

  Chase: Sounds good. Free for a run later?

  I hadn’t seen Chase since the night of the S&M event, and part of me longed for the contact, but I also didn’t want to be the kind of woman who blew hot and cold and kept men on a string. I needed to resolve my situation before I interfered in his life anymore.

  Jane: I’m not sure that’s a great idea.

  Chase: How many more weeks are you going to make me wait? Are we backtracking now?

  Jane: Maybe it’s best if we hang out with other people.

  Chase: Oh, I get it. You need a chaperone.

  Jane: No, you do.

  Chase: You don’t trust yourself with me. 

  Jane: Get over yourself, Chase.

  Chase: I think the problem is that you can’t seem to get over me. No worries on my part. I’m good with it.

  Jane: UGH!

  Chase: Come on, Jane. I understand things are still unresolved with Marcello, and I won’t push for anything, but if we’re friends like you say …

  Jane: Fine!

  Chase: LOL. Time?

  Jane: Tomorrow, after my lunch with my mother. I’ll need to run then.

  Chase: That good, huh?

  Jane: Worse. 2:00 p.m. on Johnson Street?

  Chase: Perfect.

  As Chase had warned, I did indeed receive a call from Parker. I briefly contemplated letting voicemail deal with it, but I had resolved to stop hiding.

  “Hey, girl,” she said, once I answered her call.

  “Hi, Parker, Chase said you might be calling me.”

  “Did he, now? I guess I was right then that he cut his date short to go rescue you?” Yet again percolated through her words.

  Nipping it in the bud I said, “I do appreciate that you introduced me to Chase, but you don’t get to micromanage our friendship.”

  “If you are taking advantage of—”

  “I think it’s safe to assume you have adopted Andre’s concern for Chase’s well-being?”

  “Chase is a good man.”

  “Again, I’ll reiterate for your benefit and Andre’s, Chase and I are just friends and as such, we’ll decide how that works for us. Please stop trying to parent me because I must say, you’re working my last nerve, and up until now my mother has been the only one to win that particular award.”

  I seethed with anger at the unsaid words—Chase, a good man and therefore Jane, a bad woman. I got the implication loud and clear.

  I went on, “If you care about our friendship, Parker, you need to let the past go. Sandy has. She’s finally set a date. You’re the last holdout. I’m happy you’re coming to the signing party but if this is the attitude you’re carrying
and Andre clearly is, I’d rather you not show.”

  “Hey, wait a minute, Jane—”

  “Seriously, Parker … you defended me at the club and are now adopting Andre’s point of view. Chase helped me out of a bind, but I had no idea I took him away from his date, not that that is any of your business. He made his own choice. We’ve put our pasts behind us; maybe it’s time for you and Andre to move on too. I love you but I will not tolerate this much longer.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll butt out of our business and stop worrying so much.”

  “I’ll try,” she said.

  “Okay … well … I’m going to run. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye.”

  * * * *

  The next day I sorted through my workout clothes and chose a pair of gray running shorts, black sports bra and a peach tank top. Stuffing them into my backpack along with a couple bottles of water, I placed the bag beside my sneakers with my socks balled up in one of the shoe openings. I then dressed in a long, flowing dark-blue skirt and a matching light-blue sleeveless top with built-in bra. Slipping into my brown sandals, I mulled over the lunch with my mother. Since it was odd for her to have made the call in the first place, I wondered what she had in store for me.

  I waited outside Beverly Hills Café for my mother as the breeze blew my skirt against my legs. She parked in the second row and as she stepped out of the car, my eyes opened wide over her transformed appearance. Her usual Jackson Pollock crazy patterned polyester blouse was gone. She wore a deep purple silk blouse with a bow tied at the throat. The practical low brown heels had been replaced with shiny black pumps, and in place of her knee-length beige skirt she wore black knit slacks. The most shocking change had to be the smile on her face.

  I stood there, frightened.

  As she approached she said, “You look lovely today.”