Create a Life to Love

by Erin Zak

  The cover on Jackie’s book was far from Fabio on horseback. There was a woman with her back to the camera, and she stood looking over a cliff with a mountain range spread before her. The colors were beautiful: golds and reds from the changing leaves on the trees, deep blue sky, and white snowcapped mountains. I flipped it over and skimmed the blurb. Two women finding love after being hurt was the gist of it. Shocking. I went to put it back, but for some reason, I held it a second longer. There was something extremely calming about holding a book. I was always that way, ever since I was a small child, and I received a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit for my third birthday.

  Beth’s words from earlier about how Jackie’s books wouldn’t be something I’d enjoy echoed in my head. After everything that was happening, maybe it actually would be something I needed to read. For research. And if nothing else, maybe I could learn a little bit more about Jackie. How she used her words to make people feel things. After all, she’d been using her words to make me feel things since the moment she first opened her mouth.

  I switched on the small table lamp next to the couch and curled up. I heard Myrtle jump from the bed in the spare room and click-clack her way out to me. She jumped up on the couch and curled up, promptly dozing off by my feet. Her sweet face was propped on my leg, and I took a minute to stare at her cuteness.

  After opening the book and reading the acknowledgements and then “Praise for other works by Jackie Mitchell,” the strangest phenomenon occurred. My stomach was in a knot, and my center was tingling. How was it possible that simply holding one of Jackie’s books was turning me on? As with everything else that was happening, I wanted to understand how and why something so simple as flipping a page, seeing the words “Chapter One,” and reading “Mary Russell walked like a goddess in those heels,” affected me like that.

  Time seemed to fly by as I fell deeper and deeper into the world Jackie created for her main character, Mary. She’d been broken and damaged by people throughout her entire life. She survived, though, and had an amazing mom and a great stepfather, and at the age of forty was starting to actually figure things out. Even though life was hard and she struggled, she always had her mom. And as I got to chapter three, her mom fell ill. Cancer… And that was it. I was a hot sobbing mess. What the hell? It was chapter three, for Christ’s sake.

  When I made it to the burial and the niece of the mom’s best friend, Nikki, appeared, with her mass of red hair and fierce blue eyes, I knew instantly that she was who Mary would be falling for. But the story unfolded in a way I didn’t expect… And secrets from Mary’s past came back to haunt her. I learned that Nikki was far from wild. Mary learned that Nikki wasn’t a bandage she sorely needed for her damaged heart, but she was the actual cure…

  “Chapter Eight…” Their first kiss was smoldering. I dabbed at my forehead to dry the perspiration beading along my hairline.

  “Chapter Fifteen…” I could smell the sex that was about to happen.

  I placed the book on my chest and took a deep breath. I was flying through this book, speed reading in a way I hadn’t known I was capable of. Where was this skill when I was in college?

  “What the hell are you doing up?”

  I jerked my head toward the sound of Jackie’s voice and immediately felt as if I had been caught with my hand in the, uh, the cookie jar… Yeah, that was it!

  “Hi,” I said as I fumbled with the book so Jackie couldn’t see what I was reading.

  “How long have you been awake?” She rubbed her eyes and pushed some stray hairs behind her ears. My eyes traveled over her tight tank top and tiny boy shorts. She sat on the ottoman in front of where I was sitting and propped her elbows on her knees. Her legs were so long that she looked kind of comical sitting there. Well, comical and beautiful.

  “What time is it?”

  She blinked once, twice, before she smiled. Even just after waking up, she was breathtaking. “It’s like, seven in the morning.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, why do you think I’m awake?”

  “I honestly have no idea why you’re awake.” I chuckled when she shook her head and finally broke eye contact. “You look adorable.”

  She lifted her head and looked at me again. “You like this, eh?” She motioned to her ensemble.

  “Yeah, I really do,” I said softly. “I really, really do.”

  “Y’know, you could have had all of this last night.” She placed her palm under her chin with her elbow still on her knee.

  Chills covered my body from head to toe. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Mm-hmm. But you passed out like a twenty-one-year-old.”

  “I was clearly fed shots. Too many of them.”

  “I shouldn’t have let Tabitha near you. She can drink a grown man under the table.”

  “Probably should have at least warned me about that,” I said softly. I reached out and took her free hand in mine. My fingers intertwined with hers, and I kept my eyes on hers. I found myself wanting to recreate the scene from Jackie’s book, pushing her up against a wall and having my way with her.

  “Whatcha reading?”

  Her voice broke through my thoughts, and I smiled sheepishly. “Reader’s Digest.”

  “Oh, really?” She laughed. “How are you enjoying it?”

  “It’s a little boring.”

  “You could always read something of mine.” Her eyes were twinkling as she teased me. They looked so green in the early morning light. It was hard to focus on anything but those eyes and the feel of her fingers mingling with mine. “Of course, I feel like you might be reading something of mine already.”

  My cheeks were on fire. I picked up the book and flashed her the cover.

  “Recreating Mary. Really? That’s not the one I would have started you on.”

  I laughed. “Why? Is there an order I should read them in? Like Beth always tells me about Star Wars movies?”

  “No,” Jackie said and shrugged. “That one is emotional. And has quite a bit more sex in it than some of the others.”

  I widened my eyes. “You mean there’s a lot more sex after the first time?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Why? Have you made it to the first time?”

  “Um…” I could feel myself blushing. “You caught me in the act, so to speak.”

  “How long have you been up?

  “I think three?”

  Jackie chuckled and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  “I’m loving it,” I said, my voice quiet but with enough emotion that I hoped she realized I was being serious. I watched as she pulled her hand from mine and went to stand up but instead stopped and smiled.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  Beth came stumbling out of her room, her hair a complete disaster and her eye makeup smeared. She looked like a twenty-seven-year-old waking up from a night of partying. Not sixteen waking up from a night of who knew what. “Why? What time did you stroll in?” I asked and saw Beth look at Jackie, her eyebrows raised, and she shrugged.

  Jackie titled her head and smiled. “You really don’t remember?”

  “Wait a second, were you drunk?”

  “No!” Beth shouted, and Myrtle picked her head up and released a muffled bark. “No, Mom, I promise. I didn’t drink a drop.”

  “Was there alcohol where you ended up?”

  “Uh…”

  “Where did you end up anyway?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “We sat on the beach.”

  “Who’s ‘we’? Is there a mouse in your pocket?” I looked from Beth to Jackie as they exchanged a look. “Brock?”

  “Negative,” Beth said and pulled air sharply into her mouth. “Peggy.”

  “Why not Brock?”

  “Well, he was drinking. And I didn’t want to be around that because I’m a damn good kid.” Beth leaned against the couch, shrugged, and smiled. “It was nothing big.”

  Nothing big, my ass. “Sur
e,” I said, nodding. “Nothing big.”

  Jackie laughed as she stood and rubbed her hands together. “Who wants to go out for breakfast?”

  Beth’s hand shot into the air, and all I could do was chuckle. This was absolutely the happiest I had seen Beth in ages.

  * * *

  BETH

  Breakfast was amazing. During the school year, I would rarely eat in the morning. I’d get to school and buy a yogurt from the cafeteria that I’d never actually eat. It was hard to eat when I was always so worried about what people were saying about me. I surrounded myself with really good friends, but damn, there were some real bitches back in Savannah.

  I knew it wasn’t going to be rainbows and unicorns all the time here in St. Pete, but even the amount of people I’d become acquainted with were way more than the amount of people I talked to back at home. Not that I thought we were going to stay here forever.

  Which kind of made me sad. I was really starting to like it here. The light in my bedroom was amazing. I managed to find a great spot for my easel and paints, right near the window where I could look out at the gulf when I needed inspiration. Shockingly, I wasn’t struggling for material to paint or draw. I’d filled up one sketchbook already and was quickly filling up another.

  I sat on the edge of the stool next to the easel and studied my latest painting. I wasn’t sure if Mom or Jackie would be offended, but they were the focus of almost every single piece I had completed. I didn’t set out to chronicle their relationship or anything like that. I was ten paintings in before I realized that with each work, while the same people were present, the entire mood was changing. From stand-offish to skittish to unhappy to tentative to whatever was going on. I wasn’t sure, but there was a strange electricity in the air, a crackle I noticed after their dinner date, and that crackle absolutely carried over to the night after. The space between them went from red to blue, angry and sad to calm and confused. I did not understand it, but I was having the best time capturing it.

  The painting I was working on was of Jackie with Myrtle. I wanted her to have something from me when we left.

  Ugh.

  The inevitability of us leaving was becoming more and more obvious, and it was nauseating me.

  My phone started to vibrate, and I rushed to answer it. My heart lodged into my throat when I saw that it was Peggy. Shit. What do I do? Do I answer it? Do we talk about what happened? Do we even worry about it?

  “Hello?” I felt breathless. Was I? Fuck…

  “Hey, Georgia, how are you?”

  Her smooth voice coupled with that stupid simple question made my stomach tie into a knot, killing me. I mean, seriously? I’m not doing anything, Peggy; thinking about you and how I can’t quite understand what the fuck I’m doing. “Um, I’m okay. Working on my paintings.”

  “I really need to see your work one day.”

  I could hear her smiling on the other end, the sound of her lips moving around the words work and one day. “I would love that, you know.”

  “Maybe we should set it up?”

  My heart squeezed itself. “Yeah, I don’t know when we’re leaving.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Peggy said. Her voice was softer, and it trailed off. Did she sound let down? Or was that me? I couldn’t bear to hear her like that.

  “Tonight? I mean, if you’re not busy. I know you, like, have a life or whatever.”

  She laughed, and it made my hands feel numb. “I would really like that. Can I take you to dinner?”

  It was my turn to smile. “Of course.”

  “I’ll pick you up; you can show me your art. Is seven okay?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you then, Georgia.”

  I laughed. “Bye, Peggy.” When I hung up the phone, I was smiling. Like, really smiling. My cheeks were hurting. That was how bad I was smiling.

  There was a knock on my door that shook me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I said over The Beatles singing “Hey Jude”.

  The door opened, and Jackie stuck her head in. “We should probably discuss last night.”

  “Ugh.”

  Jackie laughed as she moved inside, closed the door, then walked over toward me. “Are you okay?”

  “Ugh,” I said again. “That’s a loaded question.”

  “You two…” Jackie crossed her arms and cleared her throat. She was so uncomfortable. It was kind of comical. Especially since this wasn’t my first relationship talk. But it was her first relationship talk with me, and she looked as if she wanted to jump out the window.

  “Jackie, you don’t have to do this, y’know?” I smiled. “I mean, Mom had this talk with me a while ago.”

  Her shoulders relaxed, and she uncrossed her arms and slid her hands into the front pockets of her jean shorts. “Well, yeah, but you know this is different, right?” Jackie’s voice trailed off, and she laughed. “Clearly you know there’s not a penis, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be safe…or whatever.”

  “Jackie! Jesus!” My mouth was hanging open. “I’m not going to have sex with Peggy.”

  Her eyebrows raised, and she tilted her head.

  “I’m not!”

  “Okay, okay.” She shrugged, her hands still in her pockets. “You know I don’t care who you like, right?”

  “No shit,” I said with a laugh.

  She laughed and then bounced on the balls of her feet. Was it possible that I got that move from her? Were things like that hereditary? “So, what’s going on with you and Peggy then? If you aren’t…y’know…canoodling.”

  “Canoodling? You’re kidding me, right? Are you eighty-five?”

  “I’m being serious,” Jackie said with another chuckle before she sat on the floor and crossed her legs. “I feel strongly about straight girls like yourself breaking young lesbian hearts.”

  “Okay, first of all, I don’t even know if she’s a lesbian.”

  “True. Bisexual, then. Or pansexual.”

  “Does it even have to have a label? Like, why? I don’t want to label anything right now.” I sighed.

  “Look, that’s cool. I know you millennials like to be easy breezy or whatever.”

  “I mean, but honestly, why does it have to be labeled? Does it?”

  Jackie shrugged. “No, it doesn’t. You’re right.”

  “Cool,” I said softly. “But like, yeah, maybe she’s bisexual.”

  Jackie’s laugh was hilarious. She sounded so much like me. “You make me get all worried that I offended you and then you say that?”

  I laughed right along with her. “I’m sorry, I don’t know!”

  “That’s completely allowed. I promise.”

  “Good.”

  “So?”

  “Whatever the case may be, label or not, I’m not going to break her heart.” I bit the inside of my cheek so hard that I almost drew blood. I tried to give myself a mental pep-talk. Tell her that you don’t even know if you’re straight. Say the words, Beth. Come out and tell her now. I. Might. Be. Bisexual. Fuck.

  “I hope you don’t. It’s not easy breaking hearts. You know that, right?”

  I smiled. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  Jackie leaned back and propped herself up with her hands. “Unfortunately, I’ve broken quite a few hearts.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “It’s what happens when you’re an introverted asshole who doesn’t like people,” she said. But she wouldn’t look at me. Even though I really wanted her to. “Breaker or breakee, it all sucks. So, take my advice, and be careful.”

  “I will be.”

  “Good.” Jackie got up from the floor and adjusted her shorts. “Can I see what you’re working on?”

  I shook my head.

  “What? Why not? You know I love your work.”

  “I know,” I said and put my hands up in protest. “This is a work in progress, though. So, it’s off limits.” I adjusted the easel and made sure it was completely facing away from her. />
  Jackie looked around the room. The floor space was becoming limited as the canvases and papers started to pile up. “Can I look at any of these?”

  “No.” I stood and made sure she didn’t make a move for the canvases. “These are all works in progress, actually.”

  “That is not fair,” Jackie said with a huff. She looked so much more at ease than she did almost two weeks ago when I first knocked on her door. Her braid was messy, her jean shorts were ripped and covered with splatters of paint, and she had on a white, V-neck T-shirt that had some wear and tear. I wouldn’t say I was impressed with her slight transformation, but I was definitely happy about it. Seeing her like this made her more human. Maybe she really could be a mother figure to me one day. “What are you looking at?” Jackie narrowed her eyes. “Stop being sentimental.”

  I laughed. “How the hell did you know that?”

  “You’re my kid. I feel like you can’t escape the ‘Mitchell Lack of a Poker Face’ syndrome.” Jackie smiled, then turned to leave.

  “Your kid, eh?” I said before she left the room. Her hand was on the doorknob, and she stopped mid-stride.

  She glanced at me over her shoulder and smiled before she left the room and closed the door behind her.

  * * *

  JACKIE

  My kid.

  Shit. I was really settling into this, wasn’t I?

  I didn’t know what else to call it aside from settling… Maybe accepting? Or enjoying? Because I actually was enjoying it. The more Susan and Beth let the condo be their home, the more I found myself dreading the day they finally broke it to me that they were going back to Savannah. They weren’t making any moves to leave, though. Maybe they weren’t going to leave? Honestly, I needed to have a conversation with Susan, but the thought that she’d think I was pushing her to leave made my stomach roll.