CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
San Jose
By the end of the week, Jack seemed to be a distant memory. That was until Andy popped in my office just before lunch.
“Uh, there’s a British guy in the waiting room asking to see you,” he said as if the whole idea baffled him.
My heart began to race. Was it him? “Espresso-colored hair, dreamy eyes, like he could play a doctor on TV, but he’s actually one in real life?”
Andy seemed to mull this over before responding. “I’d say dark hair, vacant eyes, and I wouldn’t trust him to save my life.”
“That’s Jack,” I said and marched past Andy.
Jack looked joyful as I approached, but the fact that he’d showed up at my office unannounced made me uneasy. “Hey, Jack. What are you doing here?” I kept a reasonable distance. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the receptionist, Diana, watching us.
“I came by to invite you to lunch.” He gave me an innocent smile.
“Lunch?” I asked and raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I don’t know that many people in the city and I thought we could be friends,” he said.
“Friends?” Was it even possible?
“Yeah, liked we talked about in San Diego. Drinks with our significant others, the occasional lunch . . .”
I knew that we’d left on good and friendly terms, but maybe it was more than I remembered. I was pretty drunk. Was he expecting us to be best buds? I hoped not. James probably wouldn’t like that too much.
“Did you eat yet?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Then let’s have lunch,” he suggested. “As friends.”
“Okay.” But only this one time. “As friends.”
Jack and I sat at the bistro around the corner from my office. The bustling sounds of chatter, a cash register drawer, and forks against plates surrounded us. Totally casual, nothing romantic or shameful about it.
“Is your office nearby?” I asked.
He took a bite of his sandwich and shook his head with a piece of lettuce dangling from his mouth. After a minute he said, “It’s across town.”
“So you came all this way on a whim during your lunch break?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged.
“How did you even find me?” I didn’t want to be impressed by his valiant effort toward our new and improved friendship, but I was. Even though I wasn’t expecting it. At all.
“I Googled you, love. You’re not that hard to find.” Okay, maybe not so valiant.
“Are you doing anything for Easter Sunday?” he asked.
“We’re going to see my parents,” I said. My family was not at all religious, but we often spent Easter at my brother’s house. An excuse to get together, I suppose. This year was different. Holly’s parents invited my parents, James, and me to their house in San Jose. Rachel and Holly would be there too, of course.
“How are they?” he asked. “Is your dad still practicing?”
“They’re good. He’s still working, but he’s slowed down a lot. They’ve been doing a lot more traveling over the past few years.”
“That’s good. I always liked your dad.”
I smiled, knowing that Jack may have liked my dad, but Dad wasn’t crazy about him. He said that Jack was an arrogant idiot. Then again, what aspiring doctor isn’t, especially in the eyes of an established physician like my dad?
With every passing minute, I relaxed a little more. Talking with Jack over sandwiches felt like old times. Being with him was easy, just as I had remembered. Not that it wasn’t easy to be with James. It was just a different kind of easy.
Ugh. I was comparing them. How could I do that? I cringed. It was enough to make me lose my appetite. It wasn’t right and I needed to stop whatever we’d started. I shouldn’t have been having lunch with my ex-boyfriend after we’d spent time together in San Diego. I shouldn’t spend any time with him at all. Being friends just wasn’t in the cards for us.
“You’re not going to finish your lunch?” he asked while I gathered my things.
“Can’t. I have a patient coming in soon.”
He looked so . . . disappointed. Yeah, I definitely had to get out of there.
“Do you want me to walk you?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks for lunch.” I didn’t say much else before I left and didn’t feel the need for a memorable goodbye. San Diego had been memorable enough. I had decided to leave Jack in the past where he belonged and move on with my life.
The following Saturday, James and I drove down to San Jose to stay with my parents, both of whom adored James. I think they were anxious for him to put a ring on it too, but not any more anxious than I was. We got there late enough to enjoy a brief dinner and settle in for the night.
Though my parents had changed houses since Michael and I moved out, it still felt like home just knowing that they were asleep in the next room. Having James with me made it even more apparent that I wanted him to join my family. While he mostly had, I wanted it to be official, for my parents to be his in-laws, and his parents to be my in-laws. The Youngs and the Johns’ coming together over a wedding, grandchildren, and holidays. I reminded myself, once again, that moving in together was a huge step to becoming a family. But it still wasn’t enough. At least not for me.
Then, I had a thought. What if James was planning to ask me in front of my parents? He was old fashioned that way and would definitely ask their permission first. Maybe all wasn’t lost. After all, it had been two months since I started the McQueen Method.
The next morning, I found James enjoying a cup of joe in the kitchen with my mother.
“There you are,” my mother said, smiling widely.
James immediately stood to fix a cup for me too.
“We were wondering when you were going to get up,” he said, pouring the steaming brew into a familiar mug. My parents may have changed houses, but most of the dishes remained the same.
“So lazy.” My mom shook her head in disappointment. “I’ve tried to tell her that she’s too old to sleep in.”
“I’m not lazy. It’s so peaceful up here. I didn’t know it was so late,” I said with a yawn.
“That’s because this is the suburbs. No traffic on a cul-de-sac.” James sat down next to me a slid the mug my way. Even the coffee smelled fresher at my mom’s.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked.
“He’s in the garage riding his exercise bike,” my mom said.
I nodded. It was great that Dad was being proactive with his cardio fitness. Years of high cholesterol foods had left his health less than stellar. In the last year he’d adopted a primarily plant based diet and moderate exercise routine. It seemed to be working well for him. Holly emailed him recipes on a regular basis. She was like their other daughter since the two of us spent so much time together as kids.
“What time is dinner at the Jensen’s?” I asked.
“Two,” James told me.
I slid off the kitchen stool and took my cup of coffee.
“I’m gonna go see Dad,” I said.
James took a sip and nodded. As I walked out of the kitchen, my mom asked James about the remodeling of our new house. Their exchange warmed and excited me at the same time.
I walked into the tidy, sun-lit garage. A nice dewy breeze filled the room. The neighborhood street was so quiet; the only sound was the winding of his recumbent bike. Ear buds were tucked in his ears, but the music was loud enough for me to hear. He looked lost in thought as sweat beaded down his face.
“Morning, Dad,” I said.
He seemed startled and pulled out one of the ear buds. “Morning.”
“What are you listening to?”
“Journey,” he said, slowing his pace. Journey’s songs invoked memories of the eighties when my mom had wild, poofy hair and my dad sported a porn stache. And new memories of car rides and wine nights with Telly. One of those classic bands that would never go out of style.
“Am I interrupting?” I
asked and sat down on one of those short stools that they use in boxing rings. I spun around on it one time, holding my cup up so as not to spill any of the delicious coffee.
“No, I’m just about done. Did you just wake up?”
“Yeah, sleeping on a dead end street is like a tranquilizer.”
He chuckled, which was nice to see. When I was a child, he’d seemed so serious all the time and often too quiet. He still was, but the years had loosened him some. Less time at work had apparently helped with that.
“It’s nice being down here. James and I should come more often.”
“You’re both welcome any time.”
“Well, over the summer you’ll have to stay with us at our new house,” I told him. He got off the bike and wiped his face with a fluffy white towel.
“I’m looking forward to it. So,” he said before taking a long sip of water. “Are you two thinking about getting married anytime soon?” My dad may have been serious and quiet, but he was very liberal, which is why his question caught me off guard. Did that mean James didn’t ask him for my hand in marriage? Or that he did, and now my dad wanted to make sure saying yes was the right decision.
“I don’t know. Are you worried about us living in sin?” I joked.
He chucked again. Two times in one conversation! “No. It just seems like the natural next step. Both your mother and I are wondering if we can expect any grandchildren from you.”
I frowned. Always with the babies. They already had two amazing grandchildren. I didn’t think I shelved the responsibility anymore. Though, I would’ve loved to give them more grandchildren.
“Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll get there,” I said.
“I know. I’m not trying to put any pressure on you.” He hugged me.
I lay my head on his damp chest and breathed in his familiar smell.
“We just want you to be happy.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“But it would be neat to see a little Marin running around.”
It would be neat to have a little Marin running around. Or maybe a little James. Or both!
For a moment, I imagined James having a similar exchange with our unborn daughter one day. My dad was a great provider and he was good to us, but James would be one of those warmhearted fathers. The kind that wouldn’t let anything come between him and his kids, not even me.
“It would,” I said. “Oh, that reminds me. Guess who I ran into recently?”
He shrugged.
“Jack Ashbury, my old boyfriend from Stanford.”
“Oh, yeah.” He gave me a curious look. “What’s he up to?”
“He’s a cosmetic surgeon.”
My dad rolled his eyes.
“He asked about you.” I smiled.
“Humph,” he said.
“What’s your problem with Jack?” I asked, hoping to finally get an answer. Their disapproval had always irked me.
“You’re my little girl. No one was ever good enough for you.”
“What about James?” I asked, hopeful.
My dad shook his head. “I like James a lot, more than any of your other boyfriends. Still, I don’t think anyone will be quite good enough.” He smiled and motioned for me to follow him back into the house. If my dad thought James was the best of the worst, I’d take it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Just Say Yes
The four of us arrived at the Jensen’s house with a bottle of white wine and a strawberry pie from the grocery store. My mother didn’t bake either. Holly’s parents still lived in her childhood home. Stepping through the front door was like traveling back in time. I inhaled the memorable aroma of lemon and something cool like spearmint, but slightly different. I spent so many days in that house, the living room where we watched Saved by the Bell after school, the dining table where we did our homework, the kitchen counters on which we sat when we made bean burritos.
I introduced Mr. and Mrs. Jensen to James and they led us to the backyard where they’d set up a beautiful Easter Sunday table with a light green table cloth, candles in mason jars and wild flowers in a skinny vase. It was nestled between two trees, the same place Holly and I’d set up a tent when we were kids so we could sleep outside. I never got any sleep in the tent and always snuck back to Holly’s bed. She got mad every time.
James looked for David and I spied Holly on the wooden swing that hung by thick ropes from the biggest tree. Noom stood next to her, lightly pushing the swing forward. She giggled like she meant it. What could he have said that was so funny? I walked over to greet her, and it wasn’t until I was standing right in front of her that either of them noticed me.
“Marin! You’re here.” She hopped off the swing and gave me a big squeeze. Noom bowed a hello that I returned.
“When did you guys get here?” I asked.
“We came a couple days ago, having some quality time with my parents,” she said.
“It was nice of them to invite us all here.”
“Since Noom’s here they thought we could all spend the day together.”
I turned to Noom. “Is this the first time you’ve met Holly’s parents?”
He shook his head and told me that the Jensen’s had visited San Francisco to meet him when he first arrived.
Wow! Holly hadn’t wasted any time.
“Finally, you’re here!” Rachel snuck up beside me with an ear-to-ear grin. I greeted my sweet, sweet Rachel with a hug.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Great! David and I are planning a trip to Italy this summer.”
“Wow, Italy?”
Rachel gave a big nod and took my hand. “Come with me to get some lemonade.” I followed her into the kitchen, doubtful that Holly and Noom noticed we’d left.
She poured lemonade into two short glasses, then pulled a fold out stepstool from behind the fridge and reached for the high cabinet.
“You want some?” she asked, holding a bottle of Vodka. I shook my head and she shrugged as she filled the rest of her short glass with the clear liquid. I sipped from my glass of virgin lemonade and Rachel gulped from hers before letting out a refreshed sigh.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Never better.” She beamed. We stood in the kitchen for fifteen minutes talking about my sex-mex getaway and the trip she planned to Europe before her mom came in to take the turkey from the oven. I took the welcomed interruption to head back outside to find James. He wasn’t anywhere in sight until I checked around the corner of the house. There, he and David stood close together, talking. Their voices sounded somber, so I hid. Not sure why, but the conversation felt eerily private.
“You want some?” David asked.
“I’m good, man,” James said.
Want some of what?
“So you’re closing on the house soon. That’s cool.” One of them took a gulp of his drink.
“Yeah, we’re excited,” James said.
“So what do you think? You gonna make it official or what?”
Yeah, was he going to make it official?
“What are you talking about?” James said.
“Are you getting married?”
James was quiet for a moment or he said something so quietly I couldn’t hear. Then his voice broke in. “It’s possible,” he said. Possible? What did that mean?
“You want my advice?” David asked.
“No, not really.” James snickered.
“Don’t do it.”
“What’s going on with you lately? Every time I see you at a get together like this you’re hammered. I know you like to have a good time, but shit. You’re starting to act like an alcoholic.”
“It’s fucking Rachel, man. She’s being such a chilly bitch.”
I stifled a gasp with my hand.
“C’mon, don’t talk about your wife like that.”
“Why not? She’s my wife and it’s true. I can’t even remember the last time she gave me a blow job.”
Blood pulsed through my veins. I didn�
��t know if I was prepared to bear witness to this conversation, and I definitely didn’t like the way David was talking about Rachel. I never would’ve imagined David saying things like that, especially after our therapy sessions. How naïve was I? What else were my patients hiding? Maybe that’s what therapy should become, spying on your patients and analyzing their behavior. Yeah right, no one would go for that kind of treatment. I stood still, listening.
“What’s going on with you two?” James asked.
“I don’t know, I think I just really fucked up with that affair. Things haven’t been the same. It got better for a while, and then it got worse. I don’t know what to do, but I can tell you this. I can’t take much more of it. All we do is travel, we do it to bond and get closer, but we always end the trip with a huge fight and it makes everything worse, plus . . .”
“Plus what?” James asked.
“I think she might be sleeping around to get back at me.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Takes one to know one, I guess.”
“So what, you’re sleeping around again too.”
“Not really,” David said.
Not really? What did he mean—not a lot or not at all? Fucking men.
“You?”
“Nah, I got a good thing goin’,” James said.
“Well, don’t ruin it by getting married. Remember what happened with Vanessa?” The moment David mentioned James’ ex-wife’s name my stomach flipped and I held my breath.
“I spend my life trying to forget,” James uttered.
That’s when I realized, the residual pain from his divorce was worse than I thought. That explained why he was so reluctant to get married. Maybe it wasn’t about me. After all, he had just signed documents tying us together with a fancy house and mortgage. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a life with me. Maybe he was afraid of having a life without me, like I was afraid of having a life without him.
I had heard enough. I stepped around the house so the guys could see me. “They’re about to serve dinner. You guys ready to eat?” I asked, smiling.
The Commitment Test (The Marin Test Series Book 2) Page 16