Only Her Heart (The Jaded Hearts Club)

by Olivia Linden

  “He wanted me to stay for a few more days. We had already done so much, I just felt like more time would have made if even harder when it came time to leave. Plus, I have a lot of things I need to do for myself to get my life on track.He just took it as me not wanting to be with him. He said he’s not waiting anymore.” I sniffled as I put my drink down and sought comfort in a big cushion.

  “Wow,” was all she said at first. There really wasn’t much you could say. After a few more moments of silence she shifted on the couch, absently rubbing my legs that were mostly tucked behind her then she spoke her mind.

  “I don’t think he means it.” She was staring off into space when I pinned her with my confused glare.

  “Oh, I believe it. You didn’t see his face. It was almost as tragic as a Shakespearean play. Take your pick!”

  “No,” she affirmed. “He’s just hurt. Think about it, he can’t continue to keep begging you. He’s not that kind of guy.”

  “Who’s not that kind of guy?”

  We both jumped at the unexpected sound of Drew’s deep voice.

  “Wassup, Baby Girl? You look more tanned than I do,” Drew came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Yeah, well it’s summer time in South America,” I explained.

  “Jeez! Drew you scared the crap out of us!” Lana complained.

  “Oops. I’m sorry, for walking into my own place, to find unexpected visitors on my couch. Yes, forgive me for surprising you. What if I had a date with me?”

  I just rolled my eyes, while Lana bristled next to me.

  “Oh please.” She huffed with infused venom. The flirting between these two was laughable sometimes. Unfortunately I wasn’t in the mood to laugh today. Drew ignored her remark and went back to his original question.

  “So. Who are we talking about?”

  “Julian ended things with your sister,” Lana offered when I remained silent.

  “Wait. What, when, where and how?” He made a seat on the floor in front of us. Ever since we were children Drew loved sitting on the floor.

  Somehow I found the energy to retell the story of my trip to Peru. Drew was actually enthralled into silence, and Lana reiterated some of the parts she was stuck on. After I finished Drew was pensive and speechless, which made me uncomfortable because he always had something to say.

  “Drew?” My impatience was hard to mask. It’s not like he could solve my problems, but once I resolved to discuss my pain, I wanted some reciprocity or feedback!

  “You are in love with him,” Drew said, which was not what I was expecting.

  “I don’t know what I am, besides confused.”

  “No. I’m not asking you, baby girl,” he clarified.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, not failing to miss Lana watching us like a tennis match.

  “When I came back to New York after he left again, you were miserable. Sleeping all day, not bathing and shit, but that could have been residual from your incident. You keep saying that you need to get him out of your system and now that you have that chance, with him ending things, you look like you’ve been crying for the last ten years. Why? Why are you so insanely happy when he calls? And what are you running from?”

  I was too wiped out to feel one way or another about his assumptions. I did love Julian, but under the circumstances it should be understandable why I made the choice I made.

  “Drew. He’s in hiding because someone is trying to kill him. Please tell me what I should do?”

  “He’s in hiding to everyone except for you. He gave you that phone so he could keep in touch. He has his uncle foot the bill for you and your friends to lavishly experience South America just so that he could confront you when he was confused by your actions. Instead of jumping to conclusions, I’d like to point out. As bleak as his situation is, he keeps trying with you, and you keep shooting him down. I don’t know if I agree with Lana. A man can only take so much before he moves on.”

  I looked at Lana who didn’t seem to have the argument she usually would have against him. Lana and Drew were in semi-agreement. Wow.

  “It’s not that simple. I’m still trying to figure out this thing with John and-“

  “Glad you mentioned that. Let’s look at the facts here. Now keep in mind JB is my dude, but where is he? Let’s see. He went to Cali when you were released from the hospital, then again when you came down here to get away, and isn’t he there now? What the hell is up with him? He hasn’t asked you to get back together, but he keeps dangling the idea out in front of you. Then he tells you that he was attracted to you because you look like his ex... Look I’m a man, and if I want you, and I know there’s another man out there aggressively trying to get at you, I would lock it down and work it out later. Not vice versa. I’ve watched you call him and get his voicemail more times than the man who is on another damn continent. What is it? You invited him to Jamaica and he can’t because… Why can’t he? He’ll be in California.” Drew ended his tirade on that point.

  “Well I have to say that I’ve finally met both men, and I love John, I think he’s an awesome guy, but that damn Jules. You guys looked so happy. That is all.”

  “Damn it! I don’t expect you guys to understand what I’m feeling, but John was there for me when life felt like it was sucking me down, and I fucked that up. I just feel like I owe it to him to see what he has to say. Shit! I don’t even fuckin’ know anymore,” I yelled as I stormed into the guest bedroom. I could hear their muffled voices as they debated whether or not Lana should come check on me. Drew convinced her to leave me alone, and give me my space. Instinctively I reached for my purse, grabbing my phone to check for missed calls or messages. I had one missed call from Donna, a smiley face text from Angel, and that was it. No missed call from John, and none from Julian. His face flashed in my mind as I tried to rationalize that I was doing the right thing, but the truth was that I just didn’t know anymore.

  Ch 29 Making peace

  After leaving Peru, I put a few ideas into motion. First, I found a new apartment, and my things were currently being packed and shipped to Brooklyn. I would also be saving about three stacks a month. That put a smile on my bank accounts face. Next, my resume was revamped and I met with a head hunter. I wanted to get back into journalism. As much as I was enjoying my current career perks, it wasn’t ultra fulfilling, and it wasn’t mine. It was the result of two guilty consciences, but in order for my conscience to be clear, I needed to walk away. Visiting my mother in Jamaica was the biggest factor in my moving forward process. I needed to see her face. Needed to hear her story. I needed to make peace with our unfortunate past.

  Jamaica, Jamaica. Relationship drama be damned. My heart was bursting with anticipation. When Jackie got wind that Drew and I were taking this trip for Christmas, nothing could stop her from coming with us. I tried not to let the information I learned about Aunt V cloud my feelings for her. She was just as unaware as we were, and probably more so because her mother wanted to keep things well hidden from her. Despite it all, she was my cousin, my first best friend, and I loved her.

  We arrived in Montego Bay three days before Christmas. The plan was to meet with our grandmother first, since she was the gateway to meeting Monica Jane Spencer. My initial conversation with Grandma Pearl was pitiful at best. After a brief interrogation of my identity, her reaction to me was terse. Was there something wrong? What made me call now? Did my Aunt tell me to call? When she finally let me get a word in, I provided her with a summary of my intentions. How I was led to believe we were abandoned, and how Drew and I really wanted to see our mother. Shocking me, she then cried. She agreed that we should come and couldn’t wait to see us.

  As we settled into the ocean villa that we rented for our stay, I felt a newfound excitement for my life. Talking to Ma, my grandmother’s nickname, helped to dissolve most of the fear I harbored for this meeting. Her excitement transferred unto me when she explained all of the people who were waiting to meet us. We spent the day relaxing unti
l our grandfather came to pick us up for the drive to the family home. Grandpa Fred still worked as a dean at Munro College, which was a prominent boarding school. He arrived after a short workday, and I chewed off the inside of my cheek trying not to start the water works. Still showing signs of virility and strength, our grandfather exuded authority. His tall stature and perfect grammar usage, albeit with a heavy accent, helped to add to his presence. But when he flashed a large smile at the sight of his three long lost grandchildren, my heart melted. He hugged each one of us, not sure which one of us impressed him more. He assumed credit for Drew’s athletic prowess, and Jackie’s height and said I was the spitting image of my mother. Except for my eyes. His smile dimmed somewhat at that statement, but he moved on and corralled us into his van.

  On the ride deep into the hillside, I tried to focus on the sites that were passing me by. Quaint, ranch styled houses perched precariously into the lush backdrop of the parish of St. Elizabeth, one of the largest on the island. My grandfather took the time to give us a brief run down on the areas history, revered landmarks and tourism lure, stating that Treasure Beach and Dunns River Falls were a must see while we were here. Forty minutes later we turned off the main road onto a long driveway that lead to a modest two story colonial.

  My heart began to pound mercilessly, and a cool sheen of sweat covered by neck and brow. This was it. Last year this time, if you would have told me I would be in Jamaica about to meet my estranged family, I would have laughed. Hard. Now, I was walking towards the house my mother had disappeared to all those years ago. Looking to Drew and Jackie to gage their reactions, I recognized the apprehension in their eyes. We all held hands, with me in the middle, and walked the remainder of the path together, following behind Grandpa Fred. The door burst open and a tiny woman with a curly fro and sharp Asian features, came out holding her hand to her heart as she approached. I recognized Ma from her pictures, and she hadn’t aged much. We froze in unison as she made her way to us with tears pooling in her slanted eyes. She walked right up to the center of our trio with outstretched arms, and we embraced her in a group hug. The lump in my throat was growing rapidly, and I fought with my own emotional response. Until now, I hadn’t allowed myself to feel how much I wanted to be held by this little powerhouse of a woman. Looking up, I met my grandfathers warm smile as he watched our reunion.

  “Lawd mi God, unu favor,” Ma squealed in wonder. Yes, we did look alike, bearing the mark of the distinct union between Grandpa Fred and Grandma Pearl. I laughed out loud at the thickness of her Jamaican accent.

  “Come! Come inside, nuh! Mi ‘ave dinner redi fi unu.” She ushered us up the steps, and the incredible aroma of our meal assaulted me. I smelled curry, roasted meat, and a delectable combination of mixed veggies. My mouth watered in anticipation, and I momentarily forgot my real purpose for being here in my greediness. Until my eyes landed on the shock of wild hair on a woman whose back was to us. She was seated in a chair, looking out the window that faced the entrance we just entered through. Nervous tension gripped my chest, and I wasn’t sure what I should do next.

  “Mi tell har she ‘ave visita a come, but neva seh who. She excited for h’any company. G’wan. Go meet your mommy.” Ma stepped aside as I crept towards my mother. Drew lagged back, and my heart lurched at the thought of what this meant to him. Other than her pictures, he had no real memory of our mother. She’d left when he was still a baby. I couldn’t prevent the flood of tears as they spilled down my cheeks. Years of repressed sadness and longing made their way to the surface, leaving me quivering as I tried to hold it together. Not knowing what to expect, I walked over to the window and knelt down so that we were eye level. Omg, I look so much like her! The same wild hair, the same slightly slanted eyes. Mine were filled with sadness where hers were blank. She turned her empty gaze from the window and stared right at me, struggling to place the stranger before her.

  “Hello,” she greeted me with curiosity.

  “Hi,” I murmured between trembling lips.

  “What’s your name, pretty girl?” I struggled to keep from breaking down when I recognized the total absence of comprehension in my mother’s question. The pain was more than I could have imagined. Not only did she not know what was going on, but she had no reaction to our resemblance. I wondered just how bad her illness was. Was it like Alzheimer's? Would her memories come and go? Would I even be able to talk to her? Raising my eyes to Drew, I was leveled by his reaction. His eyes were moist and he had one hand over his mouth as he waited for me to say the words, nodding to me in encouragement.

  “I’m Jade, mommy. It’s me Jade,” I croaked, followed by a small sob. My mother just frowned in confusion, tilting her head as she studied me. Then her eyes flickered and grew wider.

  “Jade? Jade! Mummy! Look! Is mi baby!” She yelled to my grandmother in excitement. I let out a cry in relief mixed with despair at her mental state, throwing myself around her in a tight hug. I didn’t care if she missed me, or understood the emotional ramifications of our meeting. My mother had just said my name, and it was the first time in almost twenty years that I had heard it from her lips.

  “What a pretty girl,” she crooned while stroking my hair, as I cried into her lap.

  “Is it really you, Jade?” Again I crumbled at the sound of my name. I nodded my head in response and took a deep breath to compose myself.

  “And Drew, mommy. Drew’s here too,” I announced, reaching out for Drew to come closer. Both he and Jackie were wiping at their own tears over the sight of me and my mother. Behind them, Grandpa Fred was consoling Ma, who was also visibly shaken and wringing her hands, at the heartbreaking scene unfolding before them.

  “Drew?” My mother repeated incredulously. Drew shuffled forwards and joined me on the ground. She stared at him in wonder, caressing the side of his face.

  “But wait. You’re not a baby?” She wrenched her hand away, anger replacing her wondrous expression.

  “Where’s my baby!” She yelled over and over, until my Grandmother came and led her away. Drew was stunned, and for the first time in a long time, I consoled him. Holding him in my arms, he did a much better job at holding it together, where as I was a bawling fool. Eventually, my grandfather came to us, gently guiding us both to the couch, where Jackie was sobbing quietly.

  “Don’t be upset. She’s not well, as you can see. Some days she’s here and we can talk to her, but some days she just rambles about the past. She’s been this way ever since... Well we can talk about that later. Come sit down to dinner. I’ll get things ready for your Grandmother.” Grandpa Fred gave me a tight squeeze before retreating to the kitchen. I sat there for a moment, taking it all in. For the first time, I noticed the very tidy, but comfortable sitting room. There were numerous pictures covering the walls and every surface that would allow. It seemed that despite our lack of contact, our grandparents were well up to date with our achievements. Pictures of the three of us at all stages of our educational career adorned the room. I shook my head, deciding not to question it all. The past couldn’t be changed, and being angry or bitter was useless. We were here now, and that’s all that mattered.

  Dinner was followed up with a serving of homemade potato pudding. Aunt V had tried her hand at this dish once or twice, but it never tasted as delicious as Ma’s. The white sweet potato and raisin filling was baked to perfection, with a sweet caramelized layer at the top. Even having stuffed myself with roast beef and fried plantains, I still managed two pieces of dessert. While Jackie was filling our grandparents in on her job at the boutique, the doorbell rang, and then I heard a boisterous rumble make it’s way towards the dining room. Apparently Ma had a twin sister. Aunt Addie came by with her entire brood which consisted of her daughter, Connie and three grandchildren. Nicole, Trevor and Tommy who were also twins. Nicole, who was around my age, was carrying a car seat filled with a little bundle. Baby Maya was ten months old, and the most adorable baby I had ever seen. Nicole said she didn’t take to strangers, but
when I bent down to say hi, Maya reached her chubby little arms out for me. I melted. My love for children was no secret, but Maya moved me. I spent the rest of the evening getting to know my family, and playing with my baby cousin. She was the sweetest little girl and I couldn’t get enough of her sloppy baby kisses, or the way her little hands tangled in my hair. Nicole watched on in amusement, remarking that maybe it was time for one of my own. I laughed her off, but buried my nose into Maya’s neck to inhale her baby powder fresh scent. I felt a warm tugging at my heart, smiling at the thought of having my own baby.

  Once our surprise visitors left, Ma took us upstairs and showed us where we would be spending the night. Jackie and I would share a room across the hall from Drew. I couldn’t help but peep into the room my mother was in as we passed. Once again she was sitting in a chair, gazing blankly out of her window. What could have happened to reduce her to this? Fear seized me when I wondered if it were hereditary. Was I predisposed to having a mental breakdown? Jackie and I talked about it all before she dozed off mid conversation, assuring me that I had nothing to worry about.

  Later on, after everyone turned in for bed, I was still wide awake. I thought I would be exhausted from traveling, and the days emotional events, but I was restless. And hot. The house was lacking the central air conditioning that I was accustomed to, and the ceiling fans were no match for the tropical humidity. The pudding was also calling to me. My sweet tooth demanded to be rewarded, so I crept down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Cutting a sizable amount, I shuddered at the creepiness of the dark house. Maybe it was the unfamiliar-ness, or my paranoia, but I took my pudding and headed back upstairs.