He closes the gap between us and I can see him laughing. I can also see that there is someone or something in the passenger seat next to him.
With ease, he swings the beast around so that his door is closest to me and he lowers the window. His eyes are bright as he waits for my reaction and I can’t help but notice the youth that now plasters his features. After the stress of the accident subsided I’ve watched him visibly loosen up and now he seems to be turning back the years. Maybe the fresh, sea air has done him some good, or maybe it’s a glow born from feeling loved.
“You’re late. I ordered my taxi twenty minutes ago. If you weren’t so damn good looking I would take it out of your fare,” I say as straight faced as I can manage. But, one look at the oversized stuffed dog fastened into the seatbelt beside him and I can’t deny the laughter as it bursts from my mouth.
“He gets car sick in the back.” He smirks.
“Tough shit.” I sashay around to the passenger door, knowing how he’s watching me, my confidence feeding off of his hungry eyes. Pulling the stuffed dog from its restraints and placing it in the back, I’m able to read the gift tag attached to the bow around its neck. Benjamin.
I return to take my rightful seat beside the sweetest guy alive and turn to look at him. He wastes no time in undoing his seatbelt and leaning over to kiss me. Not a polite greeting of a kiss, it’s a kiss that digs into my soul and buries itself in my heart. When he pulls away I am rendered breathless.
“What was that for?” I manage through a series of jagged pants.
“Because I am proud of you, actually, proud doesn’t even cut it.” He reaches up and strokes his fingers along the line of my jaw. “Every day you give me a new reason to love you. Today it is because you are by far the most talented, creative person I have ever met.”
My eyes close as the aftermath of his kiss collides with his precious words to produce a tidal wave of euphoria. I feel heavy in my seat as if his love is sat on top of me. I am sleepy with serenity.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
When I open my eyes he is studying my Zen-like expression. I can only assume that he thinks I am high or that I have fallen asleep. “I’m perfect. You just, you stun me, Jesse, with your words and your actions and your love. Every day I think I’m the happiest I can possibly get and then everyday you find a way of topping it. I love you.”
“I love you.” He kisses me again. His hand is hooked around the nape of my neck and my fingers are tangled in his hair as I succumb to another happiest moment ever, in a busy parking lot, on a Friday afternoon, with a toy dog observing from the back seat.
The town is alive with the beginning of the weekend in sight. As we drive through the dated streets every other head turns to look at the ultra modern car gracing the worn road.
Benjamin is dog-sitting in the back after spending the afternoon go-carting with his afterschool club. He chats animatedly about how he was overtaken at the final second and how he would have won if the sun wasn’t in his eyes. Jesse takes the lead and tells him how he shouldn’t make excuses. There will be plenty more chances to win throughout his life. There are chances for everyone to win at something, but we can’t all win at everything. Benjamin thinks about it for some time before coming to the conclusion that it’s okay that he lost because he won at soccer the previous week and he beat Jesse at Mario Kart numerous times last night, so it balances out.
I’m proud of Jesse’s advice and prouder of Benji’s response. Watching the two of them interact and the natural respect and appreciation that floats between them, it’s easy to imagine Jesse as a father. He is everything a father should be and the fact that he doesn’t have that belief himself, only illustrates the reasoning further.
We pull up outside the building site that is Jesse’s new bar and all of us enter, including the dog which sits only a couple of inches shorter than Benji. Jesse has already told him that the dog is to practice for when we get a real one and that he should be treated as such, hence, Benjamin bringing the newly named ‘Bruce Wayne’ with us so that he doesn’t overheat in the car. You have to admire his intelligence.
Jesse finds us three hard hats to wear before we enter and we all laugh as Benji’s all but covers his eyes. When we walk through to the bar area we have to step over a beach of dust, with washed up remnants of discarded building materials. Jesse picks both Benji and Bruce Wayne up and carries them on his hip. My heart skips a little at the sight.
Jesse is shown all of the new fixtures and fittings: new floors, fresh paint, working lights, and he signs of the work. I blush a little as I cast my eyes upon bar, flashbacks of being taken over it tearing through my memory. I try to concentrate as Jesse talks excitedly about the specifics and although I can’t wrap my head around the technical aspects, I delight in his enthusiasm.
Nothing more than the flooring has been done upstairs so after Jesse has checked the quality of the workmanship and spoken to the site manager we make our way back to the street. After I’ve helped Benji into the back of the car and secured the dog into its seatbelt next to him, Jesse guides me back to face the front of the building.
“They’ve finished the sign,” he informs me as he gestures to the sheet that hangs above the panoramic window. He tucks his imaginary hair behind his ear, unknowingly alerting me to his nervousness.
“What name did you decide on?” I probe.
“Guess.”
“Hmm, a good name for a cocktail bar.” I peruse with exaggeration as I rub my finger against my chin. “Mickey’s?” I kid.
“Close.” He sneaks his hand around my back and tugs me a little closer. Signalling to a guy coincidently stood on a ladder at the corner of the building he watches me as the sheet is removed. The word ‘Sweets’ is stamped in silver against a slick backdrop. He allows the gesture to sink in before he smiles in acknowledgement at the joy evident on my face.
“I love it.”
“I love you,” he sighs with relief.
“I don’t get it.” Benjamin calls from the wound down window of the Batmobile.
Chapter 26
The morning light welcomes itself into the room as it does any other day, but the light burns less bright and I find myself abandoned from the usual warmth of Jesse’s body. My eyes sting with premature awakening as I search for him under the duvet.
“It’s okay, go back to sleep, sweets,” he whispers from across the room. I wipe the haze from my eyes until I can see him stood in front of my mirror, attempting to knot his tie.
“What are you doing? Are you leaving?” My voice is grainy with sleep but the panic is unmistakable.
“Yes, I was going to wake you. I just wanted to let you sleep some more while I got ready.”
“What time is it?” I ask.
“Just after six,” he responds, while checking his watch.
“You really have to leave this early?”
“Yeah, I thought I could start packing some things from the apartment. I have meetings in the afternoon and I want to be home as soon as I can.” He walks to the bed and sits beside me, stroking my bed-head.
“That feel’s nice. My head hurts a little,” I admit. We drank way to much wine last night ‘celebrating’ and the copious amount of food Jesse cooked still failed to soak any of it up.
“I thought it might.” He points to the bedside table where a glass of water and some aspirin beckon me. “You think Benji will forgive me for skipping breakfast?”
“Hmm…he will, but I won’t.” I pout.
“There are muffins.”
“Blueberry?” He nods. “Okay well, you’re forgiven, if you hurry back.”
“What time will you be finished at the wedding?”
“I don’t think I’ll be too late, maybe ten-ish. Will you be home?”
“I’ll try.” He leans in and kisses my head.
“Are you hiding from my morning breath?” I mutter, my eyes closed with embarrassment.
“I love your morning breath.” He laugh
s before lowering his head to meet my lips. At the connection my body ignites with energy and I pull myself to a sitting position, desperately wanting to keep him with me for that little bit longer. My hands embed themselves in his damp hair, fresh from the shower, as I push myself against him. His touch sits on my naked back and as his fingers glide lower I feel the familiar ache for him that normally precedes a deeper connection. As my hope spikes he tears his lips from mine. He glances at my bare chest, the sheet bunched around my waist, and covers me up.
“Mickey, you really do test me sometimes. I have to go. But thank you for giving me something to think about on my long drive.” He touches our foreheads together, probably aware of the rejection I feel at the disconnection.
“Hurry home,” I sigh.
“Home.” As the word plays on his tongue the corners of his mouth curl in to a contented smile.
Despite the heat that has stuck to me like a shadow all day, this has been one of the most enjoyable weddings that I’ve ever worked. The newlywed’s are a local couple who have invited half of the town. My parents are in attendance and Emma is here with Tom to celebrate his cousin, the bride’s day. It’s nice being able to catch up with them all.
The wedding itself is something plucked from the pages of a fairytale. The local church was barely recognizable after being transformed into a woodland oasis. Petals of the sweetest pink carpeted the floor and perfect posy’s bordered the aisle in various pastel shades.
The bride and groom promised themselves to each other underneath the shade of an eccentric arch of twisted branches, leaves and more pastel arrangements. It was a dream to photograph and even before I’ve had chance to check, I know I’ll be able to offer them one of the best wedding albums I’ve ever achieved. Knowing this is quite possibly the last wedding that I will ever document, it gives me great pride knowing that I’ll go out with a bang.
After capturing the speeches and wedding breakfast, I’m finally able to find some time to grab something to eat. As I tuck into a plate of grilled sea bass my thoughts wonder to The Mariner. Regardless of his physical absence, Jesse is all around me. He hasn’t left my thoughts all day as I compare this wedding to the possibilities of ours.
I’ve taken to hiding from my parents in an effort to stop myself from revealing our engagement or big move. Jesse is insistent that he is at my side when they learn of our news. I’ve already had to stop myself from telling Emma on two separate occasions. I’ve never kept secrets from my best friend before, and knowing hers only makes it harder. She’s already commented on my new necklace with its odd pendant. I could tell she was mentally questioning my explanation of it being Jesse’s brothers ring, and that he wanted me to keep it safe. It’s only part false, but Emma has a good nose for sniffing out lies so I mask myself in the perfume of distraction and continue to pepper her with questions about her pregnancy.
My parents explore their recently discovered fondness for Jesse by continuing to inform their friends and acquaintances of my courtship with an incredibly successful businessman. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing them talk so proudly about our relationship, but their approval only intensifies my longing to tell them.
The first dance is beautifully choreographed and the lights from the dance floor create an unusual ambience that photographs well. After continuing to shoot as other couples join the dance floor I find myself sick with jealousy and decide to call it a night.
I so wish that Jesse could be at my side tonight, but his continuous stream of text messages ease the discontent a little. After the longest day without him, his promises of our reunion tonight leave me desperate to get home.
Packing away my things, I take the weight off my aching feet and text Jesse to let him know that I’m about to head home, in the hope that he is en route. As my eyes focus on my phone I’m suddenly aware of someone watching me through my periphery vision. This is not the first time that this has happened tonight, but every time I’ve looked up into the spectacled eyes of a stranger he has looked away. Not this time. He smiles in acknowledgement and saunters over to sit beside me. Oddly though, considering the last time, I’m not intimidated by this man. He’s timid in nature and when I’m finally able to steal a look at his eyes, they’re kind.
“It’s you, isn’t it? Michaela?” he asks, his light voice full of familiarity.
“That’s right. I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you,” I respond quietly, feeling guilty for my incompetent memory in the face of his friendliness.
With a sympathetic understanding he takes his glasses off and smiles shyly. “I used to have long hair. I’ve changed a little since you last saw me.”
Almost instantly a name and the circumstance to which I know him flood my mind.
“Grayson?”
“That’s me.” He laughs awkwardly.
“I’m sorry, you just look so different. How are you?” I manage, although I’m giddy as I remember our shared memories; college memories that included a certain someone who was once so important to me. I don’t know whether I want to get up and leave or stay and discuss him when I have tried and succeeded to forget that part of my life.
“I’m really good, thanks. You look great. I’m glad to see you’re still snapping.” He gestures towards my camera.
“Yeah, it’s took a while but it’s starting to really take off now. You actually caught me on what is probably my last wedding.”
“Wow, that’s weird. I haven’t been to Starling in years and my first night back I see you.”
“Must have been fate,” I chuckle weakly. “Are you here for the bride or groom?” I ask while I try to judge the situation, unclear whether it’s acceptable for me to even mention the name that is at the forefront of my mind.
“The groom. He’s a cousin, or second cousin, or something.”
“That’s great.” I try to leave it there, but plagued by the damaged young woman that still clings to a portion of my memories, I lean closer and prepare for the change in topic. “So, I have to ask. Do you still see much of Sebastian?”
He nods politely, as if he was expecting his name to arise. “Well, our band never got further than trawling the bars in LA, so when we split I didn’t see him for a couple of years. Now that he’s back we get to catch up quite a bit.”
My heart pounds in my chest as if reminding me to breath. He’s back? Why would he have come back after all this time? Unless…
I shake off the need to run away and attempt to adopt an expression of impassiveness. By the look of Grayson’s reaction, I have failed. “He’s moved back?”
“Yeah, a few weeks ago. He’s got a job teaching music.”
“Why? I mean, how come he’s come back after so long?”
He looks hesitant as he takes in my obvious tension. “Well, his father died a couple of months ago, so I guess he came back to be closer to his mom.”
“So, you don’t think h-he’s back to see me?” As the bluntness blurts from my mouth I’m immediately conscious of how ridiculous I sound. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry… I just, I need to know.”
Grayson’s eyes shift uncomfortably at what he is about to say. “Michaela, I’m sure he had feelings for you back then, but it’s been years. Why would he come all the way back here for you?” His question is completely confused but without malice.
“No, I don’t really mean because of me, or because he wants me back, I just…” Words are failing me as I try to stutter an explanation for my questions.
“I understand, Michaela, girls tend to get pretty hung up on Seb. I totally get it.” The more he misinterprets my behavior the more annoyed and less in control of my words I become. My burning need for answers is being drowned out by a tsunami of anger.
“No, it’s not like that. Did he never tell you about why we split up?”
He shakes his head and he looks around as if searching for an escape from the awkwardness of my apparent distress.
“He never told you about our baby?” I cry with muffled r
age. My hand flies to cover my lips as if it can claw the words back into the stupid mouth they came from.
Shock brightens his face and then he seems embarrassed, appalled at Sebastian and pitying me. I can’t believe I’ve unloaded almost seven years worth of pent up frustration onto an innocent guy. An innocent guy who happens to be good friends with the cause of my aggravation, and the one person I don’t need in my life right now. I’ve imagined reconciliation with Sebastian many times over the years. Not to resolve our relationship but to ignite a connection between him and his son. But, that’s not what we need right now. Now that my life has ironed out its imperfections an old one threatens to stamp creases all over it.
“Michaela, I…” I hold up my hand, excusing Grayson of finishing his sentence. I just want to wish the whole mess away.
I stand up and fling my bag over my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Gray. Please, I never said anything.” I continue to apologize as I hurry away, looking for a hole in the ground to jump into.
In the safety of my home and the comfort of my couch I tuck myself into a ball of angst and wait for Jesse to come home and make it all better. It’s almost midnight and my cried out eyes sting with tiredness, but I refuse to sleep. I’m in desperate need of Jesse’s arms around me. His embrace will remind me that I am worrying about nothing. Surely, nothing can penetrate our precious new family. Except perhaps the only other person who has a rightful claim to be included within it.
I try to console myself in the understanding that Grayson was oblivious to Benjamin’s existence and that if he was a good friend of Sebastian’s, a very good friend at the time of my leaving, then Seb would be oblivious too. He never returned my messages after Benjamin were born and he never replied to my letter, so he can’t have known.
He can’t have known.
Of course, that thought is rendered meaningless now that I’ve just educated Grayson in Benji’s existence. I desperately pray to a questionable God and wish upon stars that have failed me in the past that Grayson won’t breathe a word of my revelation to anyone. I’ve asked him not too, and he seems like he is still a nice guy, but then I guess a nice guy would do right by his friend and tell him.
Forget Me Not Page 28