by Jane Charles
Tyler asked me last night if I’d write him off if he couldn’t have made it back, or decided to stay in Iraq. Of course I wouldn’t have. It’s totally different. Tyler is my brother and if duty called, he’d have to be there. It is the Army and it’s not like he has any choice.
However, I didn’t like that he pointed out that Brett is basically in service to his country too and couldn’t ignore an armed robbery that we now know had three fatalities.
It’s just different and they don’t understand. Neither Tyler nor Ashley does.
They can’t feel the hurt that I have. I needed Brett and he wasn’t there and I can’t get past it.
People are in the house, in the yard, everywhere. When the hell would they leave?
As if they heard me, and I know I didn’t say anything out loud, family friends start heading for the door. It isn’t a mad rush or anything, just one by one, bidding me goodbye, as if they stayed the prerequisite amount of time.
It took about an hour before everyone was gone except Tyler, Ashley and Brett, who was leaning against the doorjamb to the dining room.
“Take me to get my car,” Ashley tells Tyler instead of asking.
“Sure.” He pushes a Coke into my hand and heads out the door after Ashley, leaving me alone with Brett.
Traitors, both of them.
Brett is watching me. “How are you doing?”
“How do you think?”
I hear dishes clank in the kitchen. I thought everyone had gone.
“It’s your grandmother’s maid. She wanted to be here to clean up so you didn’t need to worry about it.”
“Oh!”
He takes a step forward. “Jackie, you have to know I would have been here if I could have.”
“But you weren’t.”
“The situation was out of my control. I had no say.”
“You couldn’t have just left, shift over.” I know that is unfair, but I have to lash out at someone. Get these damn emotions out of my body. They’ve been building for days. Anger, pain, disappointment, guilt, rage, loss. Unbearable loss.
“It doesn’t work that way and you know it.”
I look up in to his eyes. “The job will always come first.”
“Not always but sometimes it can’t be helped.”
At least he’s honest.
“I want you to know that I do love you. I probably always will on some level, but we can’t be together.” There, I said it, but why don’t I feel relieved.
“What?”
“I’ve been giving it a good deal of thought, even before last night.”
“I don’t think this is the best time to make any decision. You’ve gone through too much. Wait until you can breathe, step back and look at everything from a distance.”
I anticipated his argument, but it all hit me last night and he’ll see it to. “The signs have been there from the beginning. It doesn’t matter what we feel for each other, the universe is against us.”
He blinks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I haven’t. Of that I’m certain.
“Signs? Universe? What kind of babble is that?”
Now I’m pissed. I wanted to try and make him understand, certain that eventually he would, but how dare he insult me by calling it babble, as if I’m a child. “Flat tire, stalker, my grandmother’s surgery, sent away for six weeks for your job, snake bite, my brother. Every time things are going good for us and we think whatever bad thing that happened is over, something worse happens.”
“Those are coincidences, not fate warning us of anything.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. Those are signs. We are not meant to be together. It’s better that we realize that now and save us a lot of hurt in the future.”
“So, the fact that I love you, the only woman I have ever loved, means nothing because of signs and weird coincidences?”
He’s yelling now and I’m good with that. Better than good. I need to yell at someone too. Fight with him. Then I’ll feel better. Something has got to make me feel better.
“Yes. I can’t do it and I’m not willing to keep doing this.”
“So you are tossing what we have away?” It’s as if he can’t believe me, like I’m talking some foreign language or something. “That’s it then?”
“Yes. Goodbye Brett.”
He stares at me, studying me and looking into my eyes as if he’s searching my soul.
“What are you afraid of?” he finally asks.
Tears spring to my eyes. The first ones since Tyler came home. I’ve kept a handle on everything until now. “Losing you. Losing my heart and never getting it back. Of hurting.”
“So you decide to run?”
“Yes, I can and I am. I can’t take another loss and I’d rather break now then be destroyed later.”
“You are mourning the loss of your brother. Give it time before we make drastic decisions.”
He doesn’t get it. “I’m not going to stop mourning my brother.”
“Of course not, but you need time.”
“Yes, I do need time. Alone.”
Finally Brett steps back. His eyes harden and jaw tenses. “Find me when you’re ready to live again. But don’t take too long.”
He practically slams the door behind him and I sink down onto the steps in the foyer. The pain in my chest is tight, burning, building until the only way to relieve the pressure is cry. The tears will not stop. I’m curled up in a ball on the floor of by grandmother’s foyer and I can’t stop sobbing. Ugly, loud sobs, and they keep coming like lava erupting from a volcano with no end. I was supposed to feel better after this.
Not like I have just made the biggest mistake of my life.
The first week was hard, but I didn’t call Jackie. I refused. She wanted time so I was giving her time. Plus, her brother was home and it was important that she spend time with Tyler before he flew back to Iraq. The last thing I wanted to do was infringe on what little time she had to spend with him. Plus, I really hoped Jackie would call once Tyler was gone and things began to settle.
She didn’t.
The second week was tougher than the first. Surely that should have been enough time for her to think about everything that happened and maybe look back with clearer eyes. I expected her to want to talk or at least call.
She didn’t.
By the end of the third week I’ve gone from being hurt to being pissed. How dare she throw everything away because of signs? I don’t need this kind of crazy in my life. I’ve got to be better off without her. I should just fucking forget her.
I can’t.
Ten times a fool. A full month and I’m still waiting for her to call. She started all of this and should have called by now. Maybe I should call her.
I don’t.
Another month goes by as I wait her out. It’s a test. If I didn’t love her so much this wouldn’t hurt so much. But, I’m just as stubborn as she is. Then again, maybe after all this time she’s afraid to call me. I should call her, make the first move and see what happens.
I don’t.
By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, I decide I can’t do this anymore. I need some kind of closure. Had it just ended without anything else going on, I’d move on. But Jackie ended the same day she buried her brother and that’s what gets me. Is it what she really wanted or was it because of everything that happened? And now that she’s had time to think, changed her mind but thought it was too late? It’s what I hope is the case and I’m not so proud that I won’t take the first step.
Besides, I’m still not over her even though only a fool would still love someone after they were treated the way Jackie treated me. And, it’s not like my life is going to change either and I’ll still be called away, which she hates. We probably aren’t a good match and if I were smart I’d just forget her and find a more reasonable woman to date.
But, I love her. Like I’ve never loved anyone and I have to talk to her at least one more time. Either to mend the break or finally put this a
ll behind me.
Except I don’t call her. I’m not going to give her the option of ignoring my calls and this is not a conversation that should take place over the phone anyway. Instead, I go to the plantation house and my stomach clenches and I bite back panic.
It’s shut up. As in, nobody lives there. I walked around and peek in all the windows. Sheets cover most of the furniture and not one light is lit. Even in the middle of the afternoon in the summer, the inside lights need to be on. It doesn’t get enough natural for it to be bright.
Where the hell did she go?
Had something happened to her grandmother?
I would know if it had. I’d been watching the news from this area, and reading the papers. Even if she would have passed away I would have read the obituary.
As she hadn’t, where the hell were they?
I could go to one of her aunts and uncles, but that just doesn’t feel right. They were nice enough to me but they may not talk now that Jackie broke up with me.
Instead, I go to my source from the beginning. If Ashley isn’t at the club then I’ll call her.
“She moved.” Ashley shrugs.
“Moved?”
“To New York, the city.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t want to live in that big house by herself.”
“What about her grandmother?”
“Still in the assisted living place and she’s not leaving.”
Had she declined? Jackie’s gone through enough that she shouldn’t have to lose her grandmother too.
“Has her own place, friends, more active than she ever was back at the plantation.”
I blow out a breath.
“Jackie wanted her home but when she saw how happy Mrs. Baxter was, she let it go, closed the house, added new classes to her schedule and moved to New York.”
This is not what I was expecting. “Do you have her address?”
Sadness clouds Ashley’s eyes. “I can’t give it to you.”
“Come on, Ashley. I’ve waited for her to call and she hasn’t. I need to talk to her.”
“Brett, I know you two belong together. I called that before you two ever met, but she doesn’t want to see you.”
“So, make it happen.”
“She’s my best friend. I can’t betray her like that.”
“Fine!” You’d think I was an axe murderer or something by the way Ashley is protecting Jackie. I grab my phone and punch in Jackie’s number. Enough is enough.
“I’m sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
I hang up and look at Ashley.
“Got a new phone and changed her number.”
“Can you at least give me that?”
“Sorry.”
I should have called sooner. I should have gone to see her. There are all kinds of should haves but none of them are doing me any good now.
“Hey, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think she’s over you.”
This grabs my attention.
“How do you know because she has a funny way of showing it?”
A small smile forms. “Because I may mention your name, a lot.”
“And.” Ashley can’t leave me hanging like this.
“She may or may not get a little teary-eyed and tell me to shut up.”
This is the best news. Well, as long as the tears aren’t because she’s still hurt that I didn’t make it to the visitation.
She leans over the counter. “I’m not the only one who feels that way,” she whispers.
I don’t know why she’s whispering but I do to. “Who?”
“Tyler.” Her grin widens. “He’s writing her more, and emailing when he can. I saw a letter on her table from him last week that asked if she was still being stupid about you.”
I can’t help but smile.
“What does she tell you?”
“That it’s too late and even if it wasn’t, she’s afraid.’
At least it’s a smidgen of hope. “And you still won’t give me her address and phone number?”
“Best friend code. Sorry.”
I’d write Tyler but have no clue how to get ahold of him. “When are you going to see her? I assume you are.”
“I’m not telling you that. You’ll follow me.”
I make the sign of an “X” over my chest. “Promise.”
“Okay, why do you want to know?”
I take all the cash out of my wallet, about a hundred dollars, which I had planned on spending on Jackie if we went somewhere that didn’t take plastic. “Next time you go there, stop at the florist and get her the best bouquet this will buy.”
She counts it out and her eyebrows rise.
“Give me a piece of paper and pen.”
She does and I write out a note. “Still waiting. Love Brett.” Make sure you put this with them.
“I’ll be happy too.” She takes the note and puts it in her purse beneath the counter.
“At least tell me when you are going.”
“Second weekend in December,” she answers. “And, you had better not follow me.”
Chapter Forty-Five
February 14, 2004
“I’m not sure I can do this.” At least that’s what I said to Ashley before leaving her house.
“Fine, be miserable and wonder for the rest of your life if he was the one,” Ashley scolded.
Brett has sent flowers three times. The three times Ashley came to visit. She may not have betrayed my confidence by giving Brett my phone number or address, though a part of me wishes she would have, it didn’t keep her from colluding with the enemy either.
Okay, he isn’t exactly an enemy and I haven’t gotten over him either. You just can’t stop loving someone because they screwed up. In this case, I screwed up. I see that now. Stupid and stubborn. Tyler was right, which makes it even harder to go to Brett.
I’m not good at swallowing my pride and groveling.
How do I even know he wants me back? The last flowers were two weeks ago. They are dead and drying out, but still in a vase on my table.
The loss of him really hit home this morning, Valentine’s Day. I swear, everyone around my apartment complex is in love. You can’t spit without hitting young lovers. Well, I didn’t exactly spit, because, well, that is gross. But, they are everywhere so I got out of the city and came home. Not that I have a home. Technically, I could stay at the plantation house, but that place has been closed up and it’s kind of creepy with everything covered. And, because I didn’t want to be around any of my family, who are mostly happily married adults, probably exchanging candy and flowers, I went to Ashley’s. Of course, the first thing I see is a huge bouquet of roses from her non-engaged, someday may marry, boyfriend.
The moment I told her I was thinking of visiting Brett, she dragged me out of the house, to the nearest lingerie shop and then a boutique, where she picked out the perfect dress and shoes and then to the salon for hair and makeup. It was all too much, but I didn’t protest either. For me, it was procrastination. For Ashley, to set the perfect mood.
I’m not sure what kind of mood I’m going for. I’d be happy with forgiveness and then try again. I’m equally sure that the matching panty and bra set won’t even be seen. Yet, I’m wearing them, sitting outside of Brett’s house, trying to get the nerve to go inside.
Instead, I’m afraid I’m going to be sick.
Since I don’t want to ruin a perfectly nice, and new, dress, I decide to only go halfway with my plan. I don’t have the guts to actually walk to his door. I thought I’d find nerve to do so on the drive up, but instead, I lost what little nerve I possessed.
Lights are on inside and since there is an unfamiliar car in the drive, I decide it’s best if I don’t disturb him. Taking a deep breath I get out of my car, taking the red box from the front seat with me. My present to him. One I’ve been working on since last summer, once I figured out how to use my grandmother’s embroidery machine. He’ll probably think it’s stupid
, but it means something to me. I also put my new phone number in the box.
After leaving the box on the hood on the driver’s side, I hurry back to my car, glancing at his house one more time.
And stop.
He’s in the middle of the living room and he’s not alone. That shadow is definitely a woman, with long straight hair.
Tears spring to my eyes and my stomach rolls.
He’s moved on. It’s my fault of course. Still, my heart has just been shredded in my chest.
I need to go, get out of there, but all I can do is stand and watch them move through the living room.
I tell myself that I hope he’s happy, but it’s a lie. Not that it matters, he’s moved on and I can’t ruin his current relationship with my gift.
I turn on my heel and start back for his car when his front door opens.
Shit!
I can’t get there and back to my own car without being seen and I sure as hell do not want to be seen right now, so I run back to my car and duck inside before they come out. The two of them pause on the front step and the girl hugs him. I can’t watch anymore and turn the key on my car and get out of there as fast as I can and pray he didn’t notice me.
Turning from Claire, I look out into the street when a sports car starts up and barely catch the flash of red while it drives off.
“Jackie?”
“Jackie who?”
“Jackie, I told you about her.”
“The girl that dumped you at her brother’s funeral?”
“She was messed up, Claire. You should understand that better than anyone.”
She smiles at me sadly. “Why didn’t she come up to the house?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Then it hits me. “Crap!”
“What?”
“She saw you. She probably saw me hug you and doesn’t know who you are.”
“Oh, shit! What are you going to do?”