She frowned, then did her best to hide the once over she gave me. Yes, I was back in my penguin pajama pants. Yes, they were clean.
“Well, do you have plans to work on it today?” I knew she meant well, but I was chafing severely.
“I don’t know. I haven’t drawn in so long, and I don’t even have a sketchbook -”
“I thought you went down to Quill and Press. Did they not have what you needed?”
“No they did -”
“You didn’t buy them?”
“No.”
“You have my card, honey. You could get what you needed.”
I bristled, taking another step down the hall. “I know.”
“Well, why don’t we make a trip? Let me get dressed and we can go -”
“No, Mom!” She stopped, but I didn’t. “I don’t want you buying me sketchpads and pens – or anything for that matter. I’m not a fucking teenager!”
She paused. “I never suggested that you were.”
No, that was me. I took a breath to calm my tone. “I’m sorry, but I’d just rather go without, okay?”
She came toward me, her hands out and her voice growing sharp. I felt a fight coming, the kind that had died with my teenage years. This certainly wasn’t helping my sense of self-worth.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Faye. How do you expect to get them if you won’t let someone buy them for you?”
I turned and wandered off toward the staircase. “I don’t know. I’ll start hooking or something. Just don’t worry about it.”
Though I’d left the kitchen, I knew she heard me and her response was curt and simple. I was being ridiculous, she said.
I slumped down onto the bed and lied there a moment. Its allure had faded for the day. My nerves were frayed, and my mother would most likely benefit from my absence. Jackie had been harassing me to come visit while Kevin was gone for the day. I considered. I sighed. I may have even muttered some expletives. Then, I rolled out of bed, threw the closest outfit I could find on and headed out.
There were no less than three separate batches of cookies on the counter when I arrived, and two more in the process of being mixed or baked. I stopped at the kitchen door and stared at the array, part of me salivating, and part of me concerned. Jackie was clearly stressed.
“What’s going on, lady?”
She smiled as she bustled around her kitchen. “Nothing!”
Her voice was high pitched and agitated. I gave her a moment to decide whether she’d share further. She didn’t.
I sat down and watched her work.
Jackie was a machine. She hovered over her Kitchenaid Mixer like the witches of Macbeth, tossing in eye of newt and chocolate chips as the recipe (which she had completely memorized) called. Each batch of cookies was different; there was old-fashioned chocolate chip, a chocolate peanut butter chip, a toffee crunch, and finally, a white chocolate cranberry oatmeal which I would be demanding a bag of to take home to my mother. Jackie continued to flit around the kitchen, as though she were a new kitchen appliance I was trying out – completely efficient and quiet, except for the soft whir of her mumbling to herself. I did my best to listen to the grumblings, but it was so sporadic and frantic that it felt like eavesdropping.
“Jackie! What’s up?”
“Nothing, I’m fine. Hey, how are you doing?” She asked as though she’d just noticed my arrival.
“Never been better -”
“Really?”
“No.”
“Oh,” she said and I could see she’d actually been hopeful. Unlike Meghan and Stellan, sarcasm could be lost on Jackie.
I gestured to the state of her kitchen. “Now, what’s going on with you? What’s with Robo-Donna Reed?”
She stood at the center of the kitchen, and it seemed as though her whole body was vibrating, like a tight-rope wire being pulled taut.
She scanned the kitchen, her eyes moving quickly. “Kevin wants to have kids.”
She blurted the words out like they were projectile vomit. She breathed deeply as though for the first time that day, and I waited for more. I’ve known Jackie for years, but I’d never thought her to be disdainful of such a thing as children.
“Is that bad?”
“No, not at all - it’s just the timing.”
“What’s wrong with the timing?”
She took another deep breath, wiped her hands on her apron, and sighed. “Nothing. I guess nothing.”
She turned and checked the batch of cookies in the oven.
“Did you tell him you’re not quite ready?”
“It isn’t what he wants to hear.”
I couldn’t see Jackie saying anything that Kevin wouldn’t relish in the hearing. He freaking worshiped her. The two of them turned my stomach these days when I spent time with them both, which to be honest I had avoided at all costs. Jackie and Kevin were that couple you’re lucky to know when you’re happy, but you hate knowing when you’re not. They somehow manage to remind me how pathetic, alone, and not happily married I am.
“Is there a specific reason for why it isn’t a good time?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t want to jinx it, but – maybe.”
I was curious, but I wasn’t going to pry. She was already frazzled.
She offered me a toffee crunch cookie, my favorite.
“How do you not have a huge ass, woman?” I asked, moaning into the first bite. It was still warm, and the toffee oozed from within.
She laughed. “I get a lot of exercise,” she said and blushed. I wanted to reach across the counter and slap her. “And I give most of them away, or Kevin eats them. I will admit, I went a little overboard, today.”
“A little?” I snagged another toffee crunch and eyed the Chocolate Peanut Butter Chip cookies. Those were Stellan’s favorite. “I’m happy to take a couple bags worth off your hands. You know Stellan, he’d eat all of this.”
She smiled. “That’s why we love that boy.”
She pulled a couple zip-loc bags from a drawer and began transplanting dozens of cookies. By the time she was done packing them up, I was taking five bags worth home with me – all the toffee crunch, all the oatmeal, and all the peanut butter chip. If I’d hoped to lose weight this week, I was in for a whopping pile of failure. God damn it, Jackie. Why can’t you punch and throw things, maybe drive erratically – you know, like normal people do when they’re stressed. She set the bag on the counter as my phone buzzed softly in my pocket. It was Stellan.
Need a favor. You free tonight?
I grumbled at the sudden turn of my stomach to see his name pop up, but I responded that I was indeed free. I set the phone on the counter and Jackie and I talked. I told her about the texts from Cole, that he’d asked if he could call, that I’d said no. Unlike Meghan, Jackie didn’t go off on a suffragette rally worthy praising of my resolve.
“Are you going to answer? If he calls?”
I paused. “No?”
Her eyebrows went up. “No?”
I took a deep breath. “No!” I said, profoundly. “That cock sucking fuck bag can eat a shit sundae for all I care. Fuck him. Why, do you think I should?”
“I don’t really know, hon. I think you should do what feels right, and if answering feels right, then you must. Maybe it will give you closure.”
The word closure stung a bit. Despite my recent shift in mood toward Cole, that moment reminded me of the affection I harbored for so long. It reminded me of how easily I’d been cast off.
“I’m not doing well, Jack. If I tell you something, do you promise not to judge me?” She smiled. Of course she did. “I swear to you, I’m so messed up right now I started – I almost started thinking Stellan was pretty.”
She laughed. “He is.”
“But I mean, I started feeling like – I don’t even know what I was feeling.”
She shifted a tray of some brand new cookie I’d never seen in her kitchen. I in
haled deeply – lemon something.
“Well, what brought it on?” She asked.
“Madness? Loneliness? I don’t know.”
The dream I’d had of Stellan, the warmth of his presence and his smile filtered back to mind. I found myself smiling. I quickly reined it in so she didn’t see. I told her about the dream.
“Sounds fantastic.”
“It was pretty great,” I said, blurting it out as violently as Jackie had when I arrived. “Frustrating though!”
“Did you wake up randy?”
“What? No!” I said, startled. “Maybe.”
“Awesome! It’s been a while, yeah?”
“It’s been for-frikkin-ever, Jackie. Oh my god!”
She smiled again, and I felt almost embarrassed to be talking about it - with comfort, especially. I didn’t see a taboo in Stellan, I saw my friend, and a friend I’d had longer than any other. My subconscious had done this to me. The subject of Cole began to filter away again, as it always did at the mere mention of Stellan. I felt lighter with each moment I thought of him. Damn it, Faye. Stop it.
“Did you Jill-Off after?”
Jill-Off – Jackie’s best attempt at being clever. It meant masturbate. I was determined not to answer this question, but I’m a bad liar. As I searched for a response, she laughed. It read on my face.
“It’s about time, lady!”
I let my head fall into my hands. “God, I’m so messed up right now.”
“I don’t think you’re messed up. Stellan is an amazing guy.”
“But he’s Stellan!”
“Yeah?”
“He’s practically my brother.”
She laughed. “Apparently not.”
I glared at her. She just smiled.
“That doesn’t help me!”
“Apparently it does!”
I grabbed the nearest cookie and threw it across the counter at her. She glared back and retaliated just as Kevin walked through the door. As he always did when he entered a room where Jackie was present, he demanded smooches from his wife. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t need to flee when they embraced. My phone buzzed – Stellan was calling.
My eyebrows shot up. Must be important, I thought.
“Come to class tonight?” He asked as soon as I’d answered.
“What?”
I had butterflies - again. God, I’m pathetic.
“The beginner’s adult class tonight. I need you.”
I’m as big a Jackie Chan fan as anybody, and on any other day I might have jumped at the chance, but right now, the thought of sweating in front of Stellan felt about as welcome as a rusty nail in the bottom of my foot.
“Why?”
He explained that the adult beginner’s class was all males and an older woman recently signed up, but was feeling somewhat intimidated.
“She’s not too keen on the sausage party,” he said.
“Not a good candidate for a gang bang at a swinger’s club then.”
“No doubt,” he answered in a deadpan voice.
I paused. “Are you seriously asking me to come make this lady feel better?”
“No, I’m fucking begging you.”
This was unexpected. I sat there silent, Jackie staring at me from across the counter, waiting for explanation. Stellan was on the other end chanting softly. Little did he know that fear of his company was the only reason I faltered. I took a deep breath.
“Am I gonna get myself killed?”
“Never! I’ll go easy on you.”
I swallowed. Why did simple phrases like that give me the willies, suddenly? “You promise?”
He dropped his voice suddenly to that bedroomy place. “Oh, I’ll be gentle.”
“You’re so gross!” I squealed.
He laughed. “I’ll see you at five thirty and get you suited up, alright? I fucking love you, you know that right?”
The phone went quiet, and he was gone. Those butterflies in my stomach were being eaten by a raging badger as I set down the phone. I glanced at Jackie.
She was smiling. “Wow, you really are messed up?”
I threw another cookie at her.
***
I felt like a gelatinous mass that was just waiting to jiggle publicly. Christ, jumping jacks are enough to give me black eyes and bruised knees if I don’t have a proper sports bra, which if you’re wondering, I do not. Still, I put on the most flattering pair of yoga pants I owned and a t-shirt, and headed out.
Ninpo Dojo of West Concord didn’t have too many cars outside by the time I arrived, having been directed to arrive a half hour before class. I meandered into the quiet dojo. Stellan’s office door was wide open. I crept into the empty front room glancing around for a sign of life.
“Come on in,” he said.
I swear the man is a freakin’ ninja.
I felt weighted to the spot, my nerves screaming for me to turn around and leave. Still that nagging voice in my head kept chanting, It’s Stellan, It’s just Stellan, stop imagining him naked, he’s Stellan. I stepped into the office to find him sitting at his desk, his hair pulled back in such a way that for a split second I thought he’d cut it. He noticed the look of awe.
“What’d I do?”
I smiled. “Nothing. Your hairstyle fooled me for a second.”
He smiled back. “Oh, did it?” He pulled the elastic from his hair and gave a Pantene worthy hair flip with limp wrists on both sides. “How can you deny the sheer animal magnetism of my gorgeous mane?”
I stifled a laugh. “Uh. It’s a mullet.”
“Oh hell yeah! Business up front, party in the back.”
I laughed and tried to ignore the fact that his uniform, which crossed over his chest, was tied loosely and falling open. Seeing Stellan’s bare skin would usually go by without incident, but at that moment, we were very close to having an incident.
He restored the elastic in his hair before hopping up. “You ready to get suited up?”
“Would you be offended if I said no?”
He smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, shaking me as he led me down the hall. He showed me to the changing room where he’d laid out a uniform. He whispered another thank you as the first students filtered into the front room. I locked myself away in the women’s changing room and held the black drawstring pants before me. Why couldn’t I just wear my Yoga pants? They made my butt look fantastic. I slipped into the pants, which were an easy one size fits most kind of deal. Then I tried to pull the Gi top over my head and met with the resistance of my somewhat surplus sized boobs. I twisted, repositioning the girls, but there was nothing to stop them from flying out in the middle of class. No knot in any sailor’s repertoire was strong enough to hold this cleavalanche at bay. At least not in this size top. If I wore this, everyone would expect a lap dance. I was pretty sure Stellan wanted the class’s full attention, and I was the grand fucking canyon in that thing.
I paused. Now came the devastating reality of my next move – I was going to have to tell Stellan that I needed a bigger size. I hated my life with such implicit fervor that had I the option of Seppuku in that dressing room, I’d have considered it. Let Stellan find my stripper cleavage corpse later.
Sadly, I didn’t have a sword.
I cracked the door to the dressing room and hissed. Stellan left his conversation with a younger man I knew as Daniel and reached for the door as he approached.
“Let me see,” he said and gave the door a pull. I almost ripped my fingernails off trying to keep hold on the door. He held his hands up, startled.
“I’m not decent!”
I held the shirt out to him, and he raised an eyebrow.
He gave me an eyebrow wiggle and moved toward the door. “Well, F-bomb, now’s not the time or place for that, but if we make it quick -”
I swung the shirt at him, satisfied to hear it slap against his bare forearms - his chiseled, masculine forearms – fuc
k! “It doesn’t fit!”
His face softened. “Oh shit! I forgot about that rack of yours. Gimme a sec!”
He bounded back down the hall. I stood there, trying not to blush. He’d mentioned my boobs. Sure, it’s just about impossible to miss them, but still, however misplaced the sensation might be, I felt flattered - and if one could call it that, attractive, for a moment. He came back down the hall and handed me another shirt. I prayed silently that large would be big enough to contain the ladies, because if I had to ask for XL, I’d commit Seppuku with my teeth.
The shirt fit. I stepped out into the hallway feeling ridiculous. A few of the familiar guys greeted me. This wasn’t my first time at Ninpo Dojo, but I’d never visited as a student before. I scanned the front room and saw Stellan off on the opposite side of the dojo, setting up for class.
A few younger boys were tying their shoes when Thomas O’Ryan spotted me. He knew me to be in cahoots with his sensei, and let’s just say, it bought me serious street credit.
“Hey Ms. Jensen!”
“It’s Faye, hon.”
The dirty blond hair flitting about as he shook his head. “No way. Sensei would kill me if I called you Faye.”
“Well, I promise I won’t kill you.”
He laughed and the other young boy introduced himself as Mr. Gregory Federer. He looked about eleven, and reminded me of a once young and slight Stellan. This was a boy lying in wait of his growth spurt by learning how to defend his tiny self. I smiled at the sight of him.
There was a sudden burst of voices in the dojo as the older boys (and one girl, I might add) filtered in.
“Man, I can’t wait to be in this class. They get to spar and learn weapons and stuff,” Mr. Gregory Federer said.
“Wow, sounds pretty cool,” I said, and it was sincere. Martial Arts had always intrigued me, and I had a healthy respect for anyone who mastered it. Well, let’s be honest, anyone who stayed in classes longer than a month earned my respect.
“I wanna learn the sword,” said Mr. Gregory Federer. He began flailing his arms around and making light saber sounds. Thomas smiled and pretended to clash blades.
A spray of spit flew from Thomas’ lips as he made a rather convincing saber clash. “I can’t wait until I have to register.”
Catch My Fall Page 10