Addie walks over to Owen’s bedside and kisses his forehead. “Nothing, boo. Just excited that you’ll be released soon.”
“Ugh. Don’t call me boo. I am not a baby. I am a man.” He smirks.
“Okay. Hey. Look who’s here!” She moves aside to reveal me.
“Duh, Addie. He’s been here all night. That’s what best friends do.” He grins at me.
“You’ve been here all night?” Her eyes soften as she looks at me.
I nod.
“But why? I mean, he’s doing well.” She cocks her head to the left as she studies me.
I shrug and respond, “He’s my best friend. That’s what best friends do for each other as he said.” I give Owen a high five.
“Buddy, I need to talk to Jameson for a minute, so we’ll be outside, okay?”
“Are you all going to kiss? If you kiss my sister, that’s cool, but don’t do it in front of me because that’s just gross.” Addie blushes, and her eyes dart to the floor.
“Just talking, Owen, but I’ll keep that in mind when I do kiss her.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, we are going to be in the hall. There is no kissing happening here or at all.” She huffs, turns on her heels, and walks out into the hallway.
“She is mad at you, so I don’t think you’ll be kissing her.” Owen
states.
“Not yet, but soon.” I laugh.
Addie
I am pacing in the hallway, waiting on Jameson. Kissing? Seriously, what the hell has he been saying to Owen? There will be no kissing. Okay, maybe, well, because he’s so yummy, and his kisses make me breathless. Stop it, Addie! Your fake father is in the next room, and you are about to pull the plug. Get a grip! I compose myself as Mr. Hottie ventures out to meet me.
“Okay, so tell me about the letter your mom left.” His eyes are laced with concern.
“It was a long, cold letter telling me everything I already know. Several things were new like she was jealous of me and some other random shit. She didn’t even sign it ‘love, Mom’.” I shake my head.
“Addie, I’m so sorry. I can see why she was jealous of you, though. Your warmth and compassion, for a start, plus you are so damn funny.” His smile is so hypnotizing.
“Wow, um, thank you. I think Owen has a lot to do with that. He just makes me better.” I shrug off the compliment.
“No. It’s you, Addie. Don’t minimize the amazing human you are.” His tone is laced with frustration. “I see you, Addie. I see kindness. I see you.” His hand caresses my face as he looks deeply into my eyes. I gasp while tears threaten to fall. No one has ever said that to me. Letting people in has been hard. Trusting them has proven even more difficult. But if this turbulent journey has taught me anything, it is that I have a core group of people who have my best interest at heart. In a way, finding out the truth has enabled me to start healing.
“I think it’s time to say goodbye to Richard. Can you go with me?” I blurt. I can feel that my eyes are pleading.
“Of course, Addie.” He reaches for my hand, a brief smile tugs at my lips.
We walk into Richard’s room. The machines beep, and the scent of death lingers. Jameson follows me to Richard’s bedside.
“I don’t know what to say to him. My whole life has been a lie.” I gaze at Jameson as if he has the words that I long to say.
“The life you created with Owen isn’t a lie. That’s your foundation, Addie.” Woah. That was profound. If I weren’t drowning in my own emotional ocean, I would address his willingness to be so open another time.
“You’re right, of course, but I’m still processing everything. I feel like at this moment, I need to state my truth to him. To somehow find a way to forgive him so that I can move on with my life.”
“Go ahead, then. Speak your truth to him. I’ll be right beside you.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and Jameson squeezes my hand.
“Richard,” I whisper. “God, I don’t even know where to start. I wish you could have just told me the truth. It would have saved all of us a lot of heartache. I keep thinking of those moments when you were present. Remember the dollhouse you built me? It was so detailed, even down to the tiny furniture. That dollhouse fueled my imagination. I made up stories about the family that lived there. A family much different than the one I experienced growing up. I think that’s one of the reasons I’ve become a writer. You did that for me. Thank you for that. And while I’m hurt, confused, and angry as hell over this whole situation, there is a part of me that has tremendous compassion for you. I want you to leave this life knowing that I have forgiven you. I hope you find peace.” I exhale and nod to the nurse.
Tears streak my face as I say goodbye to the man who gave as much as he took. Jameson holds me while we wait for him to take his last breath. The steady beep of the heart rate monitor is replaced with the dreaded solid tone that fills the room.
“Time of death, 8:56 a.m.”
Addie
It’s been a week since Richard passed away. I find forgiveness and grief to be formidable companions. There is the little girl in me who is saddened by the loss of the man who was my only father figure. The necessity of embracing the grieving child will allow me to work through the mixture of feelings that could swallow me whole if I allow them to. I can’t do that. I can’t allow the people who I knew as my parents to have that much control from the grave. I gave them too much power while they were alive. It’s time I take my life back.
The anger has dissipated, replaced by understanding. Don’t get me wrong, I am not ready to get to know my actual father, but someday I might be. In the meantime, he has honored my request for space, and we have exchanged a few text messages and phone calls regarding Owen’s progress. Baby steps.
Sometimes my life feels like somebody trying to stand on a hammock. I teeter. I fall. I get up and try again. I am embracing my humanness and allowing others to be human, too.
Today, Owen is being released from the hospital. One month of living in a hospital puts things into perspective. Thank God! Not just because I’m grateful that he survived, but he’s also becoming a royal pain in the ass. I get it. He’s bored. He wants to get back to his life. Which, by the way, is going to be difficult. We can’t go back to our Brooklyn apartment without an elevator, so we have to stay at a hotel for the next three weeks until he gets his cast off. I figure room service will be an excellent consolation prize.
“Who’s ready to kick this popsicle stand today?” I enter Owen’s room with several boxes and bags. The room is overflowing with flowers and gifts. Seriously, I might need to hire a moving van. Christ. On. A. Cracker.
“Addie, this is a hospital, not a popsicle stand. When are we leaving? Where is Jameson?” He keeps looking over my shoulder. Cue the eye roll. Jameson is now his favorite person. He has been for a while, but his popularity expanded when he bought Owen a top-of-the-line gaming system with two controllers, so they can both play. They have spent endless hours killing zombies. And because Jameson and Owen are so charming, the nurses have turned a blind eye to their pastime, as long as they keep the volume down. These two could charm a tree. Sigh.
“Whoa! One question at a time. They’re working on the paperwork now, and I have no idea if Jameson is coming here or not.” Jameson and I have not addressed our mutual attraction. With everything going on, we have just partnered to get Owen better. That has been the focus. After doing this solo for so long, it’s nice to have someone to balance me.
As if he knew we were talking about him, Jameson appears in the doorway looking hot. Jesus, does this man ever have an off day? Ugh. Today, I did put on deodorant and brushed my hair. That’s probably the most I’ve done in a few days. George would lose his shit. However, he did give me a “fashion pass” since my life is beyond chaotic. Pretty nice of him. He said it with his eyes closed as if the sight of me was too hi
deous to handle. Oh, and he brushed my hair and applied makeup to ease his discomfort. I think he has given up.
“Good morning, Owen. Addie.” His eyes linger on me, warm. It’s moments like this when I feel like he sees me. Like he truly gets me. Goosebumps prickle my arms.
“Jameson, Addie thinks this is a popsicle stand. Tell her she’s wrong.” Owen looks annoyed. We have spent way too much time together during his hospital stay.
“It’s a saying, Owen. So, are you ready? I have a car downstairs, ready to take you to the hotel.” He starts packing up the boxes and bags while the nurse goes over Owen’s discharge papers with me.
This man. God help my heart.
Jameson
I stand outside Owen’s room, listening to their exchange. Watching them interact has become one of my favorite pastimes. I carefully observe Addie. Exhaustion clouds her face. She needs a break, and fortunately, I have arranged everything. It’s all a part of my grand plan to prove that I am worth the risk. That we are worth the risk. I smile to myself. As if she feels my presence, she looks over at me. A small smile forms.
“Good morning, Owen. Addie.” My eyes meet Addie’s. I see her, really see her. The connection is undeniable.
“Jameson, Addie thinks this is a popsicle stand. Tell her she’s wrong.” Owen looks annoyed. I chuckle. You can’t help but fall in love with Owen. And his sister. Shit, I haven’t truly loved anyone since my mother. Yep, they shattered my barriers and completely embedded themselves in my heart.
“It’s just a saying, Owen.” I laugh. “So, are you ready? I have a car downstairs, ready to take you to the hotel.” I start packing up the boxes and bags while the nurse goes over Owen’s discharge papers with Addie.
I take my time while periodically looking at her, hoping that I can make her trust me. See me. Know that I will cherish her. Know that if we are together, I will keep her safe, loved, and treasured. It’s going to take a lot of work, but I have enlisted the help of Nina, Harrison, and, of course, Owen. As a gesture of respect to him as the man of the family, we had a bro talk a few days ago, and I asked him if it would be okay if I dated his sister.
“Aren’t you already doing that?” he asked me with a tone that could only question if I am a complete dumbass. Which, by the way, I am.
“No, we aren’t, but I’m going to need your help convincing her to be my girlfriend,” I told him.
His eyes widened, and he said, “Gross. I’m cool with you hanging out with her. Can you still be my wingman?” His face was full of mischief and humor.
“Dude, I don’t think you need a wingman. You do a fine job on your own.” I laughed.
“Fine. Be her boyfriend, but you still have to hang out with me.” His face was serious.
“Owen, I will always have time for you. We’re brothers from another mother.” I grinned at him.
“Okay, I won’t be a clock blocker.” He laughed, and I rolled my eyes.
I’m quickly brought back to the present when I realize that Addie has been talking to me, and I haven’t heard a word she’s said. Note to self: work on listening skills.
“Sorry, what?” I turn my attention to her.
“I said, are you ready? The nurse is bringing a wheelchair, so we can finally leave this hell hole.”
“Sure. I’ll take this stuff down and meet you both at the car.” She cocks her head at me as if she’s trying to figure me out. I kiss on her on the cheek and walk out the door, grinning and whistling as I walk down the hall.
Addie
Okay, what just happened? He kissed me on the cheek, and he is whistling. Jameson doesn’t whistle. I look at Owen, whose smile squeezes my heart.
“Do you know why Jameson is acting so weird?” I inquire, giving him my best “mom” glare. It never works on him, but an A for effort. I have it mastered.
“Addie, he’s not acting weird—you are. Let’s go and order room service. The food here sucks.” In true Owen form, it always comes down to the food. When he was in first grade, he told me he never wanted to go to prison. I asked him why, and he informed me that a boy at school had a father in prison. His father told him that the food was awful. Whatever works.
The orderly comes with the wheelchair, and Owen settles in, asking him if he can do some “wheelies.” I groan. Cue the eye roll once again. I swear, my eyeballs are in the best shape since they’re the only part of my body that exercises.
Once we get to the hotel, I notice Nina waiting for us.
“Are you the welcoming committee?” I ask, wondering why she’s here, since the last time I spoke to her, she told me she would be in meetings all day. Color me confused.
“I cleared my afternoon. I thought Owen and I could hang out. Maybe go get some lunch and then some ice cream. Give you a little breathing room. I know it has been a tough few months.” Everyone needs a Nina in their lives.
“Oh, Nina. I don’t know. I’m sure he’s tired. Maybe—” I’m interrupted by a very annoyed Owen.
“I’m a man. I will make my own decisions. I want to hang out with Nina.” The two of them grin at each other, looking at each other as if they have some sort of secret. What is happening? Everyone is acting so weird. I feel like I’m on an episode of The Twilight Zone. Maybe I’m just tired. I am going with that. A nice bath and a nap are at the top of my list now that Owen is going to hang with Nina.
“Okay, go. But if you get tired—” Again, I’m interrupted by Owen, who throws his hand up and puts it over my mouth. Nina stifles a giggle.
When he removes his hand, I put on my fakest smile and say, “Have fun, you two! Stay out as long as you want.” My tone drips with sarcasm. Jameson laughs. I love this group of people. They are my tribe: even Jameson and his incredibly handsome face.
Nina wheels Owen toward her waiting car, and I turn to Jameson. “Well, thanks for your help. I can take it from here.” I try to sound confident, but the reality is that once he leaves, I’m scared that I won’t see him again. He ditched me as a client, and I think he’s only supportive because he feels obligated. Guilt has a funny way of holding people hostage. You know, because he kept pertinent information to himself and because of the shitstorm that followed because of it. There is no way he would ever fall in love with someone like me. People leave me. That’s what they do. The problem this time is that I don’t know if I will recover if he leaves my life completely.
“Trying to get rid of me?” His eyebrows furrow.
“No, I just thought you probably have better things to do.” I avoid making eye contact.
“Come on. Let’s take this stuff up to your hotel room. Maybe we can have that talk about us.” My eyebrow rises. I can only do the left one. It’s one of my talents. I’m not bragging. Just pointing it out, so don’t be jealous.
I have lost my capacity for words at this point. We get on the elevator and I press the button for floor five, but he presses twenty. He’s smirking.
“Why did you press twenty? My room is on five.” Radio silence. So when the doors open to the fifth floor, I start to get off, but Jameson grabs my hand and says, “Addie, trust me.” Well, hell, what’s a girl to do when this unbelievably hot man is begging me to stay on the elevator? I nod. I comply. For once, I don’t argue. We ride the rest of the way in silence. I can’t help but notice his mischievous grin.
We arrive on the twentieth floor, and he scans a card to access the floor. When the door opens, I find out that this is the penthouse. The room is opulent in its décor. Elegant sofas and wingback chairs are grouped in the living room. A sliding door reveals a terrace that overlooks the cityscape. It is breathtaking. As my eyes scan this incredible space, I notice that the dining room table hosts what appears to be my ideal feast: a bottle of champagne ready to be opened and bouquets of chocolates. I turn to Jameson, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. What. Is. Happening?
“Um, this is a mista
ke. I didn’t reserve this.” My voice wavers with emotion.
“I did. I took the opportunity to upgrade you, and I had this arranged for us.” He moves toward me and takes my hand. “Addie, I’m crazy about you. Everything about you. Even when you’re a complete neurotic basket case.”
“Is this supposed to make me fall into your arms? Because I’m pretty sure that calling me a neurotic basket case doesn’t make me want to do that.” At this point, I’m trying to contain myself. I mean, I want to kiss his stupid face even after his semi-insult.
“I’m telling you that I love every part of you. I love that you pop chocolates when you’re stressed. I love that you hate dressing up, and you prefer living in your yoga pants. I love that you are fiercely protective of Owen. I love that you write to write and not for the celebrity status. I love the capacity you have to draw people to you. But most of all, I love you.” He moves closer. Our faces are inches apart. My breathing speeds up, and my heart races. This hot, brooding man loves me, and I am standing here mute. No words. I’m frozen in disbelief.
I close my eyes and whisper, “I love you too, Jameson. Somehow, you have broken down my walls. Be patient with me. I’m not used to being vulnerable. All I know is that people I love leave. It can be a lonely existence.” Tears spill from my eyes.
His lips graze my forehead while his thumb wipes away my tears. “You’re never going to be alone again. I’m here for you and Owen. Addie, it’s your turn for someone to take care of you. I want to cherish you and I would be honored if you would allow me to be your person. Can I be your person?”
I open my eyes and nod. This man sees me, really sees me and loves me anyway.
He leans down and kisses me. Our tongues dance. My lady bits are fist-bumping. And I am lost in a simple kiss. A kiss that signifies something that feeds my soul.
Our lips pull apart. I give him a smile and ask, “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” I giggle.
“Do you want me to be your boyfriend?” He smirks.
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