Watch and See

by Jiffy Kate

  The last part comes out a little more defensive than I had planned, but I can’t help it.

  “You’re right,” he says, finally lifting his head but still not looking my way. “But it wasn’t just that someone was watching. It was that you were watching.”

  I nod, trying to figure out what he means by that.

  “But you need to know that we can’t be friends anymore, Harper. I overstepped my boundaries with you. It could be worse than losing my job. I could have my license revoked and never be able to practice again. If it had been anyone besides Sarah that had walked into that room, I wouldn’t have a job right now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. So am I.”

  We sit in silence for a moment, letting the truth wash over us. An idea pops into my mind, and I struggle to keep the hope out of my voice.

  “What if Sadie wasn’t your patient anymore? Could she be reassigned or something? There wouldn’t be an ethical problem then, right?”

  “I don’t do relationships, Harper. My job is stressful. What you’ve seen in that window is my way of dealing with that stress. Some of my co-workers overeat to deal with the strain of the job, while others drink too much or gamble. I fuck my stress away. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s part of who I am.” He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. His hand claws through his hair, gripping the ends.

  “Where do we go from here?” I ask, needing some kind of reconciliation. I don’t know if I can walk away from him. He’s seeped so deeply into me that I crave him—his nearness, his companionship. I miss his warmth and hate that I’ve caused it to go away.

  “Nowhere,” he says quietly, and I feel the last ray of sunlight go dim.

  “So, nothing then?” My voice trembles as my resolve slips. “Not even friends?”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head, keeping his eyes forward. “Not even friends. Trust me. It’s for the best.”

  I want to kick and scream and throw myself on the ground, because it doesn’t feel like what’s best. It hurts, and I’m angry he’s pretending like he doesn’t feel anything. He was starting to feel for me what I felt for him. I saw it in his eyes, and I could feel it in the few times we touched. He wanted me. Yesterday, when I kissed him, he kissed me back, and there was more passion in those thirty seconds than I’ve had in all my life. I want that. I want him.

  “Take care of yourself, Harper.” Still not looking at me, he stands and takes long strides to the gate of the cemetery.

  For a split second, I hate him. I want to go back to when I didn’t know he existed, because then I wouldn’t know how bad it hurts to watch him walk away.

  I sit on the bench until the sky turns to gray, mocking me. And then the rain starts, and I let it hit my face, willing it to wash away the sadness and regret. After my clothes are drenched and the water’s soaked into my skin, chilling me to the bone, I begin walking back to my apartment.

  When I pass his building, I don’t look up. I keep my head down and continue walking down the saturated sidewalk. Mr. Chan greets me as I walk through the door of the restaurant, admonishing me for walking in the rain and demanding I take some soup to eat. I decline and slowly take the steps, feeling pulled down by my soggy clothes and everything that’s happened the last couple of days.

  Unlocking both deadbolts, I shuffle into the dim room and plop down on the edge of my bed, staring at the blank wall until my apartment goes dark.

  I can’t stay here.

  I’m not sure if I’m moving back to Middletown or starting over in Timbuktu, but I can’t stay here. Everything about this place reminds me of him and my mother and everything that’s wrong in my life.

  Finally, I force myself off the bed and shed my damp clothes. After tossing them into a pile beside the bed, I pull on an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, trying to warm myself up.

  I lean over and turn my lamp on, taking inventory of the small drab apartment, and I’m reminded that I have nothing to occupy my time. I glare at the window and curse it under my breath, hating the pull I feel toward it, wanting to feel close to him one last time.

  A minute later, I’m perched on the window sill, binoculars in hand. As I zoom across to his apartment, the pin is pulled on the grenade that’s been rolling around since the first day I saw Luke Walker, and my world explodes as I watch him.

  His palms press forcefully into the glass.

  His body tenses as he thrusts.

  His hair is damp with sweat.

  Instead of looking at the raven-haired woman beneath him, his eyes, angry and cold, stare straight into my soul, crushing me from the inside out.

  For once, I know without a shadow of a doubt, he’s doing this for me.

  I should turn away, save myself from the pain that’s now radiating through my chest, but I can’t. When he’s finished, his hand reaches up to the corner of the window, and a sheet of fabric covers the glass, effectively shutting me out.

  “What do you mean you’re leaving?” Layla asks, dropping her fork to her plate.

  It feels like every person walking past our table on the sidewalk is now listening to our conversation.

  “I’m moving,” I say, much quieter than her, hoping she takes my cue.

  “Where?” Mia asks, confusion all over her face.

  “Back to Middletown? I don’t really know. Haven’t thought it through that far.” I cast my gaze to my lap, fidgeting with my napkin, avoiding their glares. I didn’t think this through that far either. I knew Layla wouldn’t be happy about me moving, but I didn’t consider Mia being on her side. “Just not here.”

  “Why would you want to do that, Harper?” Layla slips her hand across the table, getting me to look back up at her. “What’s in Middletown that’s worth moving back for?” I shrug because the answer is nothing, but I don’t know where else to go.

  “I get that you moved here for your mom and she shit all over that,” Mia says. “But that doesn’t mean you have to leave.”

  “It’s expensive to live here. I’m barely making it,” I tell them.

  The three of us sit in silence for a moment. They know it’s the truth. They can’t tell me to find cheaper housing because let’s face it, I live in a closet above a Chinese restaurant. How much cheaper can you get?

  “Maybe you could get a second job?” Mia suggests. “I have a friend who owns a fabric store not far from the library.”

  I nod. “I’ve thought about that, but…”

  “But what?” Layla interjects. “You can come up with all the excuses you want, but we’re gonna call bullshit.”

  “I don’t want to live in my apartment anymore.”

  “Did Mr. Chan piss you off?” Layla asks with a laugh.

  “No,” I say with a smile.

  “Did you just realize what a shit hole it is?” Mia asks.

  I laugh, but the humor isn’t there. “Not exactly.”

  “Then what?” Layla demands.

  “Remember that guy I told you about?”

  “Coffee date?” Mia asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about him?” Layla sits back in her chair and crosses her arms, and I know it’s time to come clean, so I do. I tell them every sordid detail.

  When I’m finished, Mia has a twisted smile on her face, and Layla’s eyes are locked on me. Finally, Layla lets out a scoff and shakes her head. “So, you stalked him?”

  “It wasn’t like that. Not at first. I just...wanted him?” I’m not sure how to explain it, and my face heats up with the embarrassment of admitting my actions and feelings.

  “Wow,” Mia says. “This is like soap opera shit.”

  Part of me wishes I could let them into my brain and make them understand, but the other part is selfish and wants to keep certain things about Luke to myself. They’re my memories, and that’s all I have left of him.

  “I guess,” I reply. “I didn’t mean to cause him any trouble. And continuing to live that close to him is to
rture. I just want out.”

  “I get it.” Mia nods her head. “You need some distance.”

  “Yeah. I’ve gotta get my head on straight, and there’s no way I can do that living where I am.” The temptation alone would drive me insane.

  “Move in with Connor and me,” Layla suggests. “We have a spare bedroom.”

  “I’m not freeloading off you and Connor.” I shake my head and roll my eyes at the suggestion, because it’s crazy.

  “I’ll charge you rent.”

  “It’d be a good change of location,” Mia says. “Plus, we’d all live within a few blocks of each other. It’d be great.”

  I let out a deep breath, still not knowing what the hell I’m doing, but something about Layla’s offer feels right. Since I don’t really have any other options and I never wanted to move back to Middletown, I finally nod my head. “Okay, but I’m paying for my share of the groceries, too. And you can’t mother me.” I give her a warning stare.

  Her hands go up in surrender. “Fine, no curfew.”

  I roll my eyes at her again and laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  For the first time in over a week, the clouds above me don’t feel so dark.

  I still miss him.

  And I’m still sorry.

  But I’m moving on.

  §

  The three boxes stacked beside the door are mostly full of books and a few odds and ends I’ve accumulated. My clothes fit in the two duffel bags I used when I moved here, and my bed is disassembled and leaning against the wall. I’m leaving the small table and chairs and the makeshift bookshelf. Mr. Chan said he would find someone who needs them or put them in the basement. Kyle and Connor are going to be here in an hour to move my things.

  The box sitting beside me contains the two items I found when I moved in: the book and the binoculars. Part of me wants to take them with me, but the other part knows I need to leave them behind, along with him. I thought about walking the box down to Mr. Chan, so I won’t be tempted at the last minute, but I decide to leave the box right where I found it.

  As I sit on the bare floor of the now empty room, it takes on a completely different feel. Without my few belongings, it feels foreign, but maybe it’s more than that. Maybe it feels so different because the fantasy I allowed myself to dream about while I’ve lived here is gone. I take a deep breath and let it out, watching the dust particles float through the air, reflecting the sunlight coming through the window.

  A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

  “Harper?”

  “Come in,” I call from my spot on the floor as I push myself up.

  “You ready?” Connor asks, peeking his head in the door.

  “Yeah.” I dust my hands off on my jeans, taking one last look around the room.

  “Is this it?” He points to the stack of boxes and my two bags.

  “Yeah, and my bed.”

  “Okay.” He nods, checking out the space. “Damn, this place is tiny.”

  “Don’t start. I’ve heard enough about what a shit hole it is from Mia and Layla.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “I can imagine.” He takes one of the boxes off the stack. “I’ll carry this one down, and then Kyle should be here. We can probably get all this in one load.”

  “Okay.” I grab one of the duffle bags and follow him down the stairs.

  Thirty minutes later, all my things are packed into the truck. I stop Connor before he gets in the driver’s seat. “Do you mind waiting a few more minutes? I need to turn in my key and say goodbye to Mr. Chan.”

  “Sure, Harper. No problem.” His smile is genuine, and I’m reminded of how fortunate I am to have such great friends in my life.

  As I get closer to the restaurant’s door, my feet start dragging. I hate goodbyes, and this is one of three I’ve had to endure lately. Although I technically didn’t tell Sadie goodbye, in my mind and in my heart, I did. We’re not doing either of us any good right now, and we need to keep our distance. Watching Luke walk away from me and then later cover his window hurt me like nothing I’ve ever experienced, but I accepted it because I deserved it. Now, I’m leaving the man who has looked over me like a grandfather since I moved to the city.

  When I step inside, Mr. Chan is busy and doesn’t look up at me. I walk to the end of the counter and gently set my key down.

  He stops his work but keeps his head down. “Are you sure this is good idea, Harper?”

  “Yes, Mr. Chan. I need to move, but I won’t be far. I can visit you, if you’d like.”

  “Every Wednesday, seven o’clock, you come here for food. No argument.”

  I can’t help but smile at the generous man and accept his demands. “Yes, sir. I’ll be here. Thank you, Mr. Chan...for everything.”

  He finally looks up at me and gives me a single nod of his head. “You’re a good girl. Now, go. Damn onions make my eyes water.”

  “Okay. Bye, Mr. Chan.” I back away from the counter after glancing at his chopping board and seeing that it does not have onions anywhere near it. I’m going to miss him so much.

  “See you Wednesday, Harper,” he calls out as I reach the door.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” I tell him before letting the door close behind me and heading off to Layla’s.

  §

  Later, after unloading and unpacking my few bags and belongings, Layla and I are sitting on my bed, relaxing and sharing a pitcher of mojitos.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Harper.”

  “I don’t want to wear out my welcome, Layla. When you’re tired of me, tell me. Promise?”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Whatever. It just makes sense. You need a place to stay, and we have room. If we didn’t have room, I’d make you share a bed with me and Connor!”

  I’m laughing but can’t quite cover the look of horror on my face at that particular mental image. This is why friends shouldn’t share intimate details of their sex lives.

  Layla just laughs harder. “Hey, it’d be better than going back to Middletown!”

  I stop laughing and let out a deep sigh. “Would it, really?”

  “Fuck, yes, Harper. If you go back, you’ll still be the sad girl whose dad died. You’ll still be the daughter of a junkie. But even worse, you’ll now also be the girl who couldn’t hack it in the city, who couldn’t make a life for herself and is stuck living in the past.”

  Even though I know she’s right, I don’t say anything, choosing instead to crush the mint leaves in my drink with my straw and watch the tiny bits float around in my glass.

  “But if you stay here,” she continues in a softer tone, “you can be whoever the hell you want to be. You can reinvent yourself every day until you find you. There’s a freedom here that you can’t have in Middletown. You can hide if you want to, but I’m really hoping you’ll embrace this new start and finally start living.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if I even know how to do that.”

  “You do. I remember the girl who used to daydream about getting the hell out of Middletown. You’re still that girl. I see her.”

  I look at Layla, really look at her, and it’s funny because I can still see the girl who understood me, who had a similar life to mine, similar struggles...my best friend. The fact that she still sees me gives me hope that maybe I can find myself.

  “Thanks for seeing her.”

  She leans over and kisses my cheek. “You see her too.”

  We sit there for a few minutes, sipping the last of our mojitos, staring out at the city below. Layla and Connor have a nice view, but it’s not...Stop, Harper.

  “Maybe you’ll meet a nice guy,” she says after a moment of silence.

  “I think I’ll give that a rest for a while.”

  “One day, you’ll meet the perfect one when you least expect it, and he’ll sweep you off your feet. You won’t know what hit you.” Layla gets a dreamy look in her eyes as she leans over, resting her head in her hand. “Your Connor is out there,�
� she says wistfully.

  “I don’t know about that.” I shake my head, laughing humorlessly at myself. “Maybe I’m defunct. I mean, look who I came from. What if I end up like her?” I don’t know if it’s being in Layla’s company or the pitcher of mojitos, but I let my biggest fear breathe life. I give it wings and let it fly out of my mouth and into the inky night sky. “I don’t want that, Layla. I don’t want to be like her.”

  “You’re not. You never could be.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I told you. I see you. I know who you are, Harper Evans, and you are not Sadie. You are so much like your dad,” she says, her hand resting on mine. “He’d be really proud of you, you know.”

  I wipe a tear away and smile weakly. “I miss him so much.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “He was so good. His only fault in life was loving her.” I laugh. “I guess I am like him.”

  “You can’t help that, and neither could he, but you have a chance to be happy in life, leave all of that shit behind. He would want you to take it. You’ve done all you can do. It’s okay to let go.”

  I nod and let more tears fall, leaning over on Layla’s shoulder, absorbing her words and her acceptance. It feels good to not be alone.

  §

  “You wanna stop for a coffee on the way to work?” Layla asks, peeking her head in my door.

  “Sure.” I just finished getting dressed, so I step into my flats and grab my bag.

  On our way down the sidewalk, I pull my damp hair back and twist it around into a bun.

  “Damn, it’s hot,” Layla groans. “Only seven in the morning, and it already feels so humid.”

  “I know. I guess that’s the joy of August. I think Mother Nature does it on purpose, makes us beg for cooler weather. Then, by December, we’ll already be bitching and complaining about the cold.”

  “She must hate us.”

  We’re both laughing as we step into the coffee shop, our new regular stop on the way to work, or my new regular. Layla has been coming here for a while. This new change of scenery is good for me, but I do miss seeing Mr. Chan every morning on my way out the door. I’ve kept my promise and been by for dinner the last two Wednesdays.