A Flawed Heart

by April Emerson

  He closes up the polish and begins to blow across my feet, drying my freshly painted toes with his sweet breath. The sensation is heaven.

  “I think you may need to forgive yourself first,” I say.

  His eyes bore into mine and the anger returns. His grip on my foot tightens and for a moment I fear I’ve said too much.

  “I wish that it were that easy.”

  “I know how you feel, but carrying this around—the anger and guilt—it doesn’t change anything. What’s passed is past. They’re not coming back. All we can do is move forward.”

  I choke a little on these words as the wound that’s buried in my own heart makes its presence known. He returns to his task, and we sit together in silence while the polish dries. I think I’ve said enough on the subject…for now.

  “So, we should be heading back to Brooklyn soon, huh?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “No. I have something else planned for you.”

  His mood changes from pensive to enthusiastic, and he leaves his post at my feet to crawl up beside me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s still your birthday weekend. I have another surprise for you. Let’s get ready to go.”

  I wait in the foyer with my eyes closed for what feels like forever. My leg shakes with impatience. Jason rummages around in the kitchen, and has forbidden me to peek at what he’s doing.

  “Don’t fucking peek. I will be seriously pissed if you peek.”

  “I said I’m not peeking, Jason. Jesus.”

  Finally, I hear him approach and take my hand.

  “Okay. Open.”

  I open my eyes and find Jason standing next to me with a large backpack slung over his shoulder, stuffed to the brim. He looks giddy with excitement, and I smile at how adorable he is.

  “Let’s go.”

  I follow him out of the lobby, and into the beauty of the day. Jason has his sunglasses on, and I’m not surprised to see several women on the sidewalk undress him with their eyes.

  We cross the street and enter Central Park. The leaves on the trees are abandoning their green in exchange for yellow, orange and red. There’s a solemn group of people gathered, staring down at the ground. I’m not sure what’s happening and I look to Jason for an answer. His eyes are concealed behind his aviator glasses, and his face gives nothing away. As we get closer, I see candles scattered across the ground like dandelions in the grass. There’s a mosaic embedded in the pavement of the walkway and I let go of Jason’s hand to get a better look.

  Imagine is all it says.

  “What is this place?” I ask.

  “This is a memorial to John Lennon. He lived right there in that building. He was killed right outside.” He points to a building in the distance and takes my hand in his again and we continue into the park, turning into an open field.

  I see a sign declaring that this place is “Strawberry Fields”. I doubt Jason realizes the poetry of taking me to this place so close to the anniversary of my father’s death, but maybe he does. We cross the grassy area where groups of people occupy blankets throughout the field. I trip over my own feet as I maneuver through the uneven ground and Jason grabs my waist, laughing at my clumsiness. He drops the backpack and pulls a knitted blanket out. I watch as he battles the fabric, trying to spread it in spite of the blustery fall wind. I laugh at his effort, and extend my hands to catch the edge of the blanket and help him.

  We sit together, and he takes random items from the bag—a bottle of Vitamin Water, a flask filled with God knows what, two peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and some Oreos.

  “I know this isn’t exactly gourmet, but it’s all I could find in my dad’s kitchen.”

  “It’s perfect,” I say, smiling at his effort.

  We eat and lay back on the blanket, cuddled together and looking up at the sky. Tiny, white clouds journey past us, the wind blows through the trees, and the leaves rustle.

  “It’s like a song,” he says.

  “What?”

  “The wind. It’s like a song. I love coming here, and just listening. Ambulance sirens, kids laughing—it’s all music to me.”

  “What was your favorite part of growing up in the city?” I ask.

  “I only realized it recently, but I think it’s the people. I know that’s hard to believe, most people think New Yorkers are nasty bastards. But everyone you meet here has a story to tell—a version of this place. This city is different for everyone, but we are all bound together by it. New Yorkers will defend this fucked-up island till their death, because of that bond.”

  He fumbles is his bag and pulls out his iPod. He gives me one of his ear-buds and sweet music fills my ears.

  “So did you have a happy birthday?” he asks.

  “I had the best birthday. Thank you.”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out. I don’t recognize the number, but answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Claire. It’s Tony.”

  “Oh…hey, Tony. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I went up to your apartment to look for you, and Lydia said you were in the city for the weekend.”

  “Yeah, I’m with Jason.”

  “Well, I just wanted to say happy birthday, and I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Tony.”

  I hang up and turn to Jason, who is clearly enraged.

  “What was that about?”

  “He was just calling to say happy birthday. He’s my friend.”

  I see Jason’s jealousy bubbling inside of him like lava, and I’m waiting for the volcano to explode. He lets out a long breath. “I don’t like that kid. I’ve told you before. But I know he’s your friend…or whatever.”

  He lies back down and rakes his hand over his face. I place my head at his shoulder. His brow is creased with anger and worry, and I reach my hand up, rubbing out the crinkled flesh with my fingertips.

  “He’s a sweet guy, but he’s not you.”

  I know it’s hard for him to extinguish his anger, and watching him try to do it is refreshing. “I’m proud of you for not freaking out.”

  He leans into me, and his delicious scent descends on me and clouds my mind. He presses his soft mouth to my cheek and then my lips, kissing me with everything he feels, then he pulls back and smiles as he brushes my hair from my face.

  “I’m working on it.”

  The late afternoon light fades as we watch the city disappear in the rear view mirror of the Charger. It glides like a pinball over the Williamsburg Bridge. Fallen leaves scatter and disappear through the streets. The wheels seem to guide themselves as Jason reclines in his seat.

  I feel sad to be leaving this weekend behind, because I’m wondering if Jason will continue to so openly bare his feelings once we have returned to our lives. The words we shared hang in my mind like the haze over the skyline. The stereo is blasting as usual, and he gives me control of his iPod. I scroll through it and put on a soft, slow song. Jason and I begin to sing along simultaneously. I relish the way it feels when our voices join together; enjoying the perfect harmony we intuitively create.

  He smiles as he sings, the fading light glinting off of his sunglasses, his fingers interlaced with mine. Now that Jason and I have declared ourselves to each other, I feel it everywhere. Even my skin recognizes the intense connection we share. My fingers feel numb and barren if his hand is not in mine.

  Our drive is filled with music rather than words, and we arrive back at his apartment as the sun sets. It takes forever to find parking, his block being more crowded with cars than usual. When we enter the building we hear a chorus of voices shouting and laughing.

  “I guess we’re having a party.” Jason sighs and rubs his hand along his delectable jaw in a gesture of frustration mixed with amusement.

  We run up the steps, and are greeted by the sight of a half open front door and a graveyard of empty beer bottles. The low vibration of bass hums f
rom the stereo.

  “I fucking missed you guys!” Ben’s voice booms as he barrels down the hall toward us, enveloping myself and then Jason in a bear hug. “Did you have fun? We’re totally having an accidental party right now. Sorry if you weren’t in the mood. What do you want to drink? Everyone’s here.”

  Lydia runs up and hugs her brother, then grips my hand as she tugs me down the hall. I look back at Jason over my shoulder. My hair obscures my view of him for a moment, but my eyes are determined to find his. His skin, his smell, and his body have become such a part of me—I feel his absence like the phantom limb of an amputee. I’m surprised to feel my heart shrink as I leave his side, even for a brief moment.

  A cold bottle of beer is pressed into my hand as I enter the kitchen. Kat waves to me from her perch on the counter top, and my lips turn up as I smile in return. A ton of people fill the tiny room, overwhelming the small space. The walls strain to accommodate the number of them all. I take a sip of my beer, and feel more at home than I ever felt in Savannah.

  Lydia whisks and whirls around the kitchen, and I watch in awe of the easy way she always has about her. Now that I’ve seen inside of Jason’s heart, he and Lydia seem more and more similar to me. I see couples kissing and laughing together, and all of a sudden I feel like half of a whole without Jason at my side. I stand and maneuver through the apartment looking for him. I go into his room, and then back to the kitchen. I even check the bathroom, but he’s nowhere to be found. I resign myself to the fact that I’ve lost him in his own place, and take an empty seat at the kitchen table with Lydia and Alana.

  I’m coerced into taking a few tequila shots, and very soon my head becomes fuzzy and my mood lifts. Lydia charms everyone with her wit and has the whole room, including myself, doubled over in laughter at her stories and jokes. Even though I’d rather be with Jason, it’s nice to spend time with Lydia.

  I take another lap through the apartment again, and come up empty. My drunken haze turns into worry, and I decide to check the street for his car. I peek through the living room window, and am relieved to have finally found him sitting outside on the stoop with Ben. I grab some beers from the fridge and go outside to join them. Jason’s eyes light up when he sees me. I wrap my arms around myself as I walk toward him, bracing against the cool night air.

  “Come sit with me, babe.” He pats the step and I sit beside him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his body. I’m instantly warmed and calmed by his touch.

  “Jay tells me you guys had a good time in the city?” Ben asks, winking at me.

  “Yes. It was great. I really loved it.”

  Jason’s arm tightens around me and he kisses the top of my head. “I really love you,” he whispers. His voice is hardly audible, but I know I heard him right. I feel my insides tingle. We pass a joint around, and talk about Lydia’s upcoming art show at the Brooklyn Arts Festival.

  “What do you have planned for the fest this year?” Ben asks Jason. “There’s a music showcase at the festival every year. Scouts come out for it,” he explains to me.

  “That sounds like a big deal,” I say.

  “I have a few ideas for what I’m going to do. I play solo every year, but I really want to perform a few songs with a band behind me this time.”

  “There you guys are!” Lydia interrupts our conversation, floating out onto the stoop wrapped in a blanket. She takes a seat beside Jason, and Kat and Alana follow behind her.

  The night turns dark and cold. We pass the time outside together, adding countless bottles to the collection that has grown beside us. The crowded apartment eventually diminishes to just Ben, Alana, Lydia, Jason, and I.

  We drink icy beer in the chilly air and our conversation fades to comfortable silence as we huddle together in the Brooklyn night. Alana blows slowly across the mouth of her bottle. The high hollow note she creates with her makeshift flute hangs in the air, and then floats up through the trees. A crow caws as it grudgingly leaves the branches. I’m reminded of what Jason said to me in the park—it’s all music.

  I take a drag of my cigarette and watch the smoke snake through the air. It floats toward Jason and I giggle at the fact that even my breath is magnetically drawn to him.

  “Hey, I know, let’s go to the park.” Lydia suggests.

  “What are you, five? It’s fucking freezing, Lydia. I’m not going all the way to the park. I’m fine right here.” Jason shakes his head and adjusts his position next to me.

  “Oh, come on.” Lydia tugs on his arm like a child begging for ice cream. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  Jason lets out a heavy sigh and Ben laughs at his grumbling. We stand, stretch, and leave the seats we’ve been occupying for hours. Jason runs inside to grab his leather jacket and a hoodie for me.

  The walk to the park is punctuated by kisses from Jason. He keeps his hand buried in my back pocket as we stroll. We linger behind the others, but I hear squeals in the distance from Lydia, Kat and Alana as Ben repeatedly claims to see boogey men emerging around each corner.

  We arrive at the park, and transform into children. A shoving match between Jason and Ben erupts into a game of tag, which turns into hide and seek, and I sit breathless at the base of an oak tree, hiding with Jason. I feel my stomach flutter as my body remembers what it feels like to hide in the dark. The tiny patch of earth we sit on smells of must and dead leaves.

  Jason reminds me that this is the first moment we have been alone, since we returned from the city, by playfully running his hand up my thigh. I stifle a giggle as his lips meet mine. His mouth is soft and warm, and my lips wrap around his as he kisses me. I lean back, melting against the tree trunk, as he shifts his weight and presses his hard-on into my thigh. The feel of his ever-ready erection causes my body to heat in the cold, night air, and he moves his lips to my neck. I see my breath in the air as I gasp for oxygen. He nibbles my earlobe, and his hand slides further up my thigh and then to the button on my jeans. He nimbly slips his hand inside, and we groan together as he touches my wet lips with his fingertips.

  “Do you really think we should do this here?” My voice is a whisper as we fight to conceal ourselves from the others.

  He moves his lips closer to my ear. “I’m honestly not thinking about anything but the way you feel right now. I love the way you feel. I love you so much.”

  I dig my fingernails into his back, and shift myself so that his fingers slide closer to my entrance. I know we should stop, but I can’t resist his touch. “Please, don’t stop…”

  “Fuck, I love it when you talk like that—so fucking sexy.”

  I grip his jaw and pull his mouth to mine. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, and he responds eagerly. He moans as I grip his shoulder tightly. I hear footsteps approach, and then pass us by…and the idea of being caught turns me on even more. Jason knows just how to touch me. He puts one hand over my mouth to keep me quiet as he moves his fingers. I moan, and he looks at me with a raised eyebrow and a grin. Someone runs past us again, closer this time, and he withdraws his hand. I zip up my jeans, laughing at what he’s just done. He readjusts himself next to me and pulls me into his shoulder.

  “Would you ever want to perform with me?” His eyes are on the roots of the tree we sit beneath.

  “Of course. I love singing with you…wait, do you mean like, in front of people?”

  “Yes, in front of people. Like at the fest. Ben and Lydia already agreed to do it. I’d prefer to play with people I connect with. Musicians have big egos, and I’m not into trying to work with hired guns…or douchebags.”

  “Oh, they have big egos do they? Sounds like someone I know,” I tease.

  He tickles my waist in response. I laugh loudly and our cover is finally blown.

  “Found ‘em!” Lydia yells.

  “Shit. Way to go, Claire.” Jason stands and wipes the dirt from his jeans.

  “I only laughed because you tickled me, jerk.” I attempt to punch his arm, but he darts out of my path.

&nbs
p; “Good luck with that,” Lydia says. “Jason’s fast. I could never catch him when we were little.”

  “You can’t catch me now either,” he challenges and runs away from his sister.

  “Who says I want to?” Lydia yells after him as he disappears across the park.

  She leans against the tree, smiling at me. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see Jason like this. He’s so different. You’ve brought him back from wherever he went, and I just…I can’t thank you enough.” She wraps her arms around me and I return her embrace.

  We hear someone running toward us, and Lydia releases me. She grabs a low tree branch. “They won’t catch us up here. Climb, Claire!”

  I’m beyond the point of reason. I grab the branch as Lydia moves further into the oak tree. I giggle as my feet leave the earth. My hands are cold and the bark is rough, but the tree seems to be made for climbing, and I easily follow her path. She stops once she’s about six feet up, and I do the same. I look down to where Jason, Ben, and Alana stand at the base of the tree. I feel dizzy. I don’t know if it’s from the height or the alcohol.

  “All right. You’re nimble, Lydia. Now come down,” Jason yells.

  “I will never surrender!” Lydia shouts, playfully shaking the branches.

  I feel my grip on the branches begin to slip and then everything goes black.

  “Should we call an ambulance?”

  “Fuck, I don’t fucking know. Jesus Christ, Lydia! It was your genius idea to fucking come here!”

  “Well, I didn’t know someone was gonna fall out of a fucking tree, Jason!”

  “Claire! Claire? Baby, can you hear me? Claire!”

  I open my eyes and blink the fuzzy haze away as I struggle to breathe. My chest feels like it’s filled with molasses, but then, at last, cold air enters my lungs.

  “Oh, thank fucking God. Lydia, what the fuck were you thinking? Tequila and fucking tree climbing? Coming here was a stupid idea. God fucking damnit!”

  “Will you please calm down?”

  The fuzzy edges leave my eyes and I see Jason and Lydia hovering over me. Lydia is white as a sheet, and panic has consumed Jason.

  “Can you move? Can you talk? Fuck, are you all right?”