Though Jaime had been candid with me about his family; though his story was painful, it didn’t even come close to mine. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the whole story because I liked how uncomplicated our relationship was without all of my baggage. Or so I convinced myself. Jaime under the pretense that finals were coming up and I needed to study. He didn’t question this and gave me my needed space. Adding that he would never get in the way of his girlfriend making the Dean’s list, then gently shoving me in the direction of my dorm with a congenial slap on the ass. While it was true and finals were coming up, that wasn’t the reason I needed space. there was that nagging voice in the back of my head constantly whispering cheater. Cheater when I’d respond to another message from Teddy. Cheater when I’d hang out with Jaime. They’re just emails, I thought. Though, if I was being honest with myself, which, of course I wasn’t, it was kind of cheating. Maybe not in the physical sense but I was definitely emotionally cheating. I’d given something to Teddy that I hadn’t given to Jaime: the truth about my past.
To make matters worse, the duplicity and the strain in our relationship kept me from being intimate with Jaime. We’d kiss but that was pretty much it. I’d gone further with Teddy in a few weeks than I’d gone with Jaime in a few months. He was being patient with me. Letting me set the pace for our physical encounters but I could tell he was getting frustrated and it was only a matter of time before there was a confrontation about it. I wondered selfishly if, when he got sexually frustrated enough, it would make it easier if he cheated on me. It would make the decision to stay or leave so much easier.
Cheating. I couldn’t help but compare myself to my mother, and every time I thought about it I got sick. I couldn’t stop myself, though. I couldn’t just let Teddy go. He was inside, under my skin, knew me in a way no one else did and I relished that. I wasn’t just going to give Jaime up either. I’d worked too hard over the year to be a stronger, healthier, more stable person and I liked the person I could become with Jaime: a successful force to be reckoned with. He brought out the competitive, ambitious side of me. The side that had to rise to the top. The side that wished there was a letter before A, a number before one. He was, frankly, the reason I came up with the idea to get in touch with Teddy in the first place which was all kinds of fucked up.
I think the worst part of all of it was that I couldn’t really talk to anyone about it.
I never wanted Jaime to know about those emails, as harmless (or not harmless as the case may be) as they were. And I never mentioned I had a boyfriend in the emails to Teddy because, I justified, he never asked, only alluded. There I was in the center of an ethical shit storm and I couldn’t talk to Markus because he was loathe to hear about my “love” life, I wouldn’t talk to my mother and give her the satisfaction that I had feelings for Teddy again, I certainly couldn’t talk to Collette who would make Teddy out to be the bad guy because of her loyalty to Jaime. So I regressed into old habits and withdrew from everyone. Instead of take the time to sort through my feelings, I buried myself in my work. I studied furiously for my finals, though I really didn’t need to, had marathon study sessions with my macroeconomics group, picked up extra hours at the restaurant, and worked tirelessly on a prospectus for Markus’s restaurant.
I did hours of research on businesses in the vicinity, the location, I drew up plans for reconstruction, projected income, pricing. I justified the extra work by convincing myself I could somehow use anything I did for my senior project. After weeks of work I gathered the nerve to show Markus all that I’d done. I’ll never forget the look on his face when I plopped an eighty page binder down on the steel island in front of him in the kitchen. He denies it to this day, but I know I saw a tear. Together we tweaked the business plan to suit the atmosphere he wanted to create. By the time we’d both worked on it, the vision was so clear even I got misty thinking we may actually pull it off. Markus traded gourmet food for a professionally designed logo and menu font from a web design major in my building. The only thing it was missing was a name, but I left that to Markus. He said that it had to capture the gestalt of his creation. Whatever that meant. So I left him to the creative side while I focused on the business side and called Brooke Holmes.
Brooke was just as sweet as I remembered on the phone and she put me at ease right away with her cool, easy laugh. I was grateful to Teddy that he warned her I’d be calling and she was kind enough stick to business talk and not ask about my family or Teddy. Thank God. I told her everything about Markus and how he was a culinary genius and flattered her with the memory of her lavish dinner party. I offered Markus’s services for her next gathering and perhaps after tasting his food she’d entertain a meeting with us about investing in the business.
“Well,” I breathed once I’d gone through the entire rehearsed spiel.
“Charley, from what you told me he sounds incredible! And so young!”
“He really is incredible Mrs. Holmes --“
“Brooke, please.”
“Brooke. I think his youth is an assest. He’s only going to get better.”
“You don’t have to sell him to me anymore. I want him for my next party.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. Then afterward we can talk business.”
“Mrs. --I mean, Brooke, he will be thrilled to hear it. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“Thank you for thinking of me. Do you have an email address? I will send you all of the details.”
The dinner party was going to be not unlike the one I attended months prior. Markus was to use the state of the art kitchen that all of the cooks used when they came. She specified there would be one vegetarian at the table and several guests were allergic to gluten. I relayed the message to a not so happy Markus, but assured him that that was the way the game was to be played if we were ever going to get an audience with her. She gave us a budget -an exorbitant amount of money for food for eight guests but that made up for the gluten free work-arounds Markus was going to have to do. I did tell Markus we’d have to enlist the help of our friends for the service.
“There were eighteen waiters, Markus! Eighteen! We’re going to need to cajole some people into helping.”
“Okay,” he said holding up his enormous, baseball mitt hands to count on his fingers. “There’s you, me, Collette, maybe we could get Calliope, Jaime --“
“Not Jaime,” I said a little too quickly.
“Why?”
“He’ll be working at the club. Can’t.”
“Honey, I think that boy would forfeit a night’s pay to be with you.” I groaned internally and that awful guilty feeling boiled in my stomach.
“I wouldn’t want him to do that.”
“Fine,” he said dismissively. “Jaime’s out. Who else?”
“I could get Colin and Kelsey and there a couple of guys from three who owe me a favor”
“Should we pay them?”
“Only if you have to! You don’t have to tell them about the money and we can use it as a last resort.”
“You’re sneaky.”
“I’m brilliant. You need to come out ahead on this. Especially if…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence, but we had to be smart. If it didn’t work out we had to be able to rally and come up with a new plan.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Let’s not think like that.” Though, I couldn’t help but think like that. Everything that Markus and I had worked for, our friendship, was based on this contact with Brooke Holmes. If she wasn’t satisfied, not only was it likely that she wouldn’t invest, but she’d certainly not recommend Markus to any of her wealthy friends. If I couldn’t bring him this business, then what would happen to me as a finance/marketing major? What would happen to my friendship with Markus? I kind of wished he would ask me about excluding Jaime, but he was too preoccupied with planning a menu. I pushed it all out of my mind, pushed myself harder further away from everyone except Teddy.
When I would see Jaime, us
ually for a rushed lunch or coffee break, I tried to be the same I always was with him but maybe that’s what tipped him off. That I was trying at all. I tried to recapture the easiness of our interactions pre-Teddy emails, but it felt forced even to me and I missed it. I did appreciate that about my relationship with Jaime. It was easy. I always found myself squabbling with Teddy. We always found a way to have an explosive argument over nothing. Jaime never argued with me. Even when I wanted to argue, which was so infuriating sometimes but he kept me level. Our relationship had been so easy, so natural but I was hiding something. Even something innocent because I knew it would mess us up. Jaime never confronted me about it. Maybe because it was all too new and he didn’t know how or maybe he chocked it up to stress. One day, during our thirty minute lunch, Jaime launched in on me.
“Charley, where are you going to live after finals?”
I nearly choked on my romaine lettuce. “Um, Collette said I could stay with her as long as I wanted,” which was true but I wasn’t too keen on it. I didn’t want to cramp her style, I just didn’t like the idea of owing someone and she had let me stay with her over the winter holiday.
“On her couch?” He asked visibly getting upset.
“It’s better than on the street.” I quipped.
“You should go home.”
Now I was getting upset. He didn’t know everything, but he knew enough, so I thought. “Jaime, we’ve been over this, I’m not going there. Why would you even suggest that?”
“You can’t stay with Collette,” he said emphatically without even addressing my question.
“Why not? I told her I’d give her some money for rent and food and stuff. It’s just, even with all that I’ve saved and the money I get back every semester I still can’t afford six hundred a month for an efficiency.”
“Move in with me instead.”
I choked again on my diet coke and had to quickly grab a napkin to stop the brown liquid from running out of my nose. When I’d stopped hacking I just stared into his face. “I’m sorry?”
“I said move in with me. It makes sense. You wouldn’t have to pay me rent, you could save your money and we’d get to spend time together.”
“We are spending time together,” I pointed out, stalling for something better to say.
“Thirty minutes every other day, does not a relationship make.”
“Do you have a two bedroom?”
“No.”
“So I’d be sleeping on the couch there same as Collette’s,” I huffed, believing fully that I’d quashed the argument.
“No.”
“Jaime, what are you really saying to me?” Oh God, please don’t let it be what I think it is.
“I’m saying that I love you Charley and I want you to live with me.” Shit!
“You what?” I cried drawing attention to our table from surrounding patrons. “Okay,” I started, trying to calm myself against the feeling my heart quickening. “You need to slow down. First of all, you love me? Jaime, I know we’ve been dating for a while but--”
“Three months,” he cut me off. “We’ve been together for three months, Charley.”
“That still doesn’t mean we know each other well enough for you to say that you love me. Second, live with you? Sleep in your bed? We’ve done little more than kiss and even those have been…erm…virtuous. How can we make a leap from a peck on the lips to sharing a toothbrush?”
“First, Charley, I think you know me plenty well enough. You know everything there is to know about me. I’m the one who’s still learning about you, but I know that I love you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Jaime.” He continued on like he didn’t’ even hear me.
“Second, you don’t have to sleep in my bed with me. I’ll stay on the couch for as long as you want until you’re comfortable.”
“What if I’m never comfortable?
“That’s your prerogative,” he said sucking in an exasperated breath. “I’d never push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with Charley.”
“Because you love me,” I repeated slowly. Testing the words out on my tongue.
“Yes. I love you, Charley. You don’t need to say it back, but I need to know if this, you and me, is something you want and soon.”
“Jaime…I…want to be with you. It just seems really sudden. ”
“I told you from the start that I’m interested in being more than friends. That hasn’t changed. I think that’s what you want too. I know it’s certainly what you need, but there’s something holding you back. I’m not going to go anywhere so you have all the time you need to figure out what it is that’s keeping you from loving me the way that I love you. Until then we can go as slow as you want. Understand though, I love you and I want to be with you.”
“In the biblical sense?”
“Yes, but not entirely,” he said far too seriously.
“So this is because we’re not having sex?’
“No, Charley. Shit! It’s not about sex. It’s about commitment.”
“What do you mean? I am committed to you” I said the words but as soon as they hit the air I knew they weren’t one hundred percent true. He did too. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I know that you’ve been distant and that things between us have been off. I mean, the fact that we’re arguing is proof of that. I attributed it to work stress and finals, but now I don’t know. You’ve put up a wall between us. I’m willing to give you time if you can tell me, honestly, that this is something you really want.”
“Jaime…I…do…I mean…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.” He repeated. The growl in his voice beginning to intensify.
“I mean I need more time.”
“I can wait, but not forever. You have to think about my needs, too Charley.”
“So we’re back to the sex thing.” I bit back.
“Dammit, Charley, you know that’s not it! If your intent is to piss me off it’s working. You want me to make it more clear to you? Fine. I’m not going to let you lead me around by my dick for another three months. How’s that for honesty.” I blinked my eyes rapidly in disbelief. He was angry. It was measured, I could tell he was restraining himself but there was a dark anger bubbling underneath the surface and for a moment I was terrified. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m frustrated, Charley. Not just sexually. I want to be with you. I’ve done everything I can think to show you that I love you, but you won’t let me in. You’ve been playing games with me, and I’m tired of it.
“I’m not playing games with you, Jaime!” He held a hand up to stop me from saying anymore. The contemptuousness of the gesture clammed me up right away. For the first time, I felt our age difference and I hated it.
“You know what?” He asked visibly putting a lid on the fury that was threatening to rise to the surface. He looked down at his hands and when his eyes met mine the only emotion I could read was exhaustion. “Just call me when you’re ready.”
He walked out.
I stomped back to the dorm and climbed the six flights of stairs to our room instead of take the elevator to blow off steam. The second I hit the room I powered up the laptop and waited the excruciating sixty seconds for it to boot. Please let there be something from him. Please. I twisted the pendant around my neck and bit down on my lip until it drew blood. I was so angry with Jaime. I know now it was misplaced anger but at the time I was furious. How could he spring that on me? Three months isn’t that long? He loves me? He doesn’t even know me! And how could he say with such defininity that I need him. I don’t need him! I don’t need anyone! In the midst of this internal rant I clicked on the new message from Teddy and by breath caught in my throat at his plea to see me.
It had to be a sign, I thought. Things were going south with Jaime and here was Teddy, my sweet Teddy, still yearning for me. That sweet warmth spread through my core again, and my mind did that weird muddly thing. I couldn’t mak
e sense of the onslaught words and images I’d only catch fragments. Father. Love. An image of my real dad with his trumpet. The sinister face of Adam. Jaime’s eyes. Teddy’s smile. Then, like a flash, I had a revelation. With nothing but the sound of my heart thudding in my chest I typed out a response and hit send without rereading it.
My Teddy,
I want to see you too. Meet me at the Sinatra bar Friday at 7. I want you there when I meet my father.
Your Charley
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Teddy
We were meeting at the Sinatra bar. We. As in Me and Charley. God, I just kept repeating that in my head, Lace. Me and Charley, me and Charley. We were going to meet her father. Lacey, I can admit this now because you’re gone and I’m older, but I was scared. No, that’s not accurate, I was fucking terrified. Her father? Me? Under any other circumstance I would’ve said hell no, but this was Charley and I had to see her even if it was going to be mildly uncomfortable. She wanted me there, that’s what mattered.
I had it all planned in my mind. The bar was only a mile or two from the University of Tampa campus, so I’d park my car there and we could walk back. She could talk about whatever had happened with her dad and by the time we got to the University be done with it. If not, maybe take a detour by the river and walk near the water. The sound and smell of which would bring back all the good memories from our time at the beach and she’d forget about whatever had happened with her dad. Maybe we’d stay up and talk all night. Maybe she’d let me hold her hand and comfort her. Let me kiss her. Let me kiss her all night and into the morning.
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