by Zeia Jameson
Jeremy told me to go with the flow and soak it all in. Enjoy the good moments. Instead of dwelling on why my crappy past should dictate and solidify a crappy future, I should be focusing on why my crappy past is the exact reason I deserve a happy future.
Deserve.
I deserve to be happy.
Most people might think it an odd concept for someone not to realize that they deserve to be happy. But it is foreign to me. It’s a mantra that I literally have to repeat to myself every day.
I deserve to be happy.
I am worthy of love.
As I sit around the table, watching everyone’s interactions with one another, I do drink it all in. Let it absorb. These people are genuinely happy. They aren’t rich. They aren’t perfect. But they are filled with love for one another. And they’ve allowed me to be a part of it.
I let Jeremy love me.
And I let his family love me too.
It’s the most satisfying feeling I’ve ever felt. My whole body feels it. From the tip-top of my skull to the tiny edge of my pinky toenail.
Jeremy’s family consists of his mother, Rosalie, of course. His aunt Jenna who is not quite yet thirty. His aunt Maggie, who is the oldest of the three but only a few years older than Jeremy’s mother. Jenna and Maggie are both happily married to Mike and Stanley, respectively. Jenna and Mike have a little girl, Mia, who is two, and Maggie and Stanley have two children—Mark, who is twenty-four and Tabitha who is fifteen.
Dinner is over and I’m helping Jeremy’s mother clean the dishes. She insisted that I didn’t but I insisted harder that I do. She relinquished, with a hefty grin. It’s just the two of is in the kitchen.
“Livy, Jeremy tells me that you don’t want to get married or have children.”
Here we go.
The when are you going to make an honest man out of my son and give me millions of beautiful grandbabies speech.
The speech I never wanted to hear or argue against.
I clear my throat and try to mask my disdain on the topic. My back is turned to her and she’s facing the island. I’m at the sink. She can’t see my face, so I’m safer in hiding how I really feel. “That’s correct.”
“So you don’t think you’d ever want to marry Jeremy?”
“I don’t believe in marriage. It’s just a piece of paper and vows that no one honors.”
“That isn’t entirely true. I’d like to think that if Jeremy’s father were still alive, we’d still be happily married. And Maggie and Jenna seem to be doing it right, also.”
“You guys are the lucky ones,” I retort, maybe a little too surly.
“We are very blessed. All of us are. Jeremy too. He is very blessed to have found you.”
I turn to her, still hoping to not get too emotional over the conversation. “Rosalie, Jeremy is the most polite, caring, humorous, genuine man I’ve ever met. I’m…I’m rough around the edges. I have…issues. Issues that Jeremy is helping me to acknowledge and resolve but issues nonetheless. I can’t help but think that one day Jeremy will tire of me and want to move on and I certainly don’t want that to happen after we make vows before God, family and the state, claiming our ever resilient love for one another. I just want to enjoy the time I spend with Jeremy and not worry about any pressure of being legally bound to him. “
“You don’t want to be legally bound to him so you have the opportunity to run and bail, without guilt, if you get scared?” Her words shock me but Jeremy told me that she didn’t hold back her thoughts, similar to me. But, she spoke it in a tone that kept the energy of the conversation light.
“I just don’t think that vows are real,” I pathetically try to defend my convictions.
“I understand your hesitation, Livy. But please keep in mind that Jeremy is a loyal creature. He would never ask you to be his one and only for eternity if he didn’t really mean it. If he didn’t feel it in his gut.”
“Most people have those intentions when they say I do.”
“You are right. But those people aren’t Jeremy. He’s practical and analytical. Even if he loves you, he won’t ask you for that kind of commitment until he knows for sure that both of you will be on board for the long haul. After you’ve lived together and can handle each other’s quirky living behaviors. After you had arguments over stupid stuff and both come out on top and stronger than before. After your lives have intertwined with each other so much that being separate from one another is unspeakable.”
“But I’ve told Jeremy I don’t want to get married.” A chill runs up my spine and breaks me out into a cold sweat. “Oh my god, he’s not...”
“He’s not going to propose if that’s what you’re asking. I think he would have told me at least.”
My heart slows back down to resting rate. “But I will say this. Jeremy is a romantic. He likes the idea of marriage. He doesn’t want to be a bachelor forever. You may have discussed your feelings about marriage with him but my best guess is that he feels eventually you’ll change your mind.”
I don’t know what to say. Jeremy said he understood. Didn’t he? Or did he just say something along the lines of “one day at a time”? Should I be mad? Or worried? Before I decide on either, Jeremy bolts through the kitchen door in an appearance that he may have had one too many glasses of wine. “Come beautifuls!” he says, slightly slurring, addressing both his mother and me. “It’s time for wine and board games!” His half lidded eyes and quirky grin are so adorable. I smile, wipe my hands dry and look at his mom. She returns my glance and her eyes are filled with concern. For me. For Jeremy. “Please don’t break his heart” I feel like she’s saying.
“I promise,” I try to silently say back.
We all head into the den and play board games well into the night and imbibe on exorbitant amounts of wine. I listen to his mom and aunts tell stories of Jeremy when he was a boy. We all laugh until we cry. It was good, clean family fun and I enjoyed every precious second of it.
The best night of my life…yet.
***
13
Jeremy
One month later
Christmas
“Jeremy, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Part of your Christmas gift.”
Livy smiles. “So you figured it out, huh?”
A few weeks ago I had asked her what she wanted for Christmas. She said there was nothing that she could think she wanted. And then she gave me a brow beating about the meaning of the holiday.
“Besides, if I told you I wanted a paperclip for Christmas and the time comes to open gifts and low and behold you got me a paperclip, where’s the fun in that? Where’s the Christmas spirit? And of course you know if I wanted a paperclip I’d just go out and buy one. Not wait around for you to buy it for me.”
“Livy, I feel like you are really hinting around at me getting you a paperclip for Christmas,” I had replied sarcastically. She swatted at my arm gently and rolled her eyes. “Yes. That is exactly what I’m doing. But seriously if you want to get me something so badly, you figure it out. I already figured out what I’m getting you and I know you are going to love it. And it wasn’t that difficult rubbing some brain cells together to come up with the idea.” She smiled and reached out her arm again to me in an attempt to give my stomach a playful pinch. I darted backward out of reach just before she made contact and laughed, “Hey now, no need to resort to physical violence. I just wanted to know what you wanted for Christmas. But I get it, you’re right. It’ll mean more if I figure it out on my own.”
“Besides, how can I even think of wanting anything for Christmas when I see people at the shelter—children—who aren’t going to get anything more than a hot meal and maybe a warm blanket?”
Livy had been volunteering at the shelter since Joe closed the bar. She had even donated a substantial amount of money from her share of the sell to the shelter, in hopes they could start up some counseling sessions and job fairs for those that really wanted to try at a fresh start. She
cared so much about those people. All she wanted to do was help. She had once told me that she didn’t know how to love, but Livy’s heart was filled with nothing but just that. She had so much compassion for those that were left with no option but to be homeless, especially the women that ran away from their abusive husbands with the sole mindset of saving their children from harm.
And those children. She knew them all by name. Their ages. She loved every single one of them. I could hear the passion in her voice and see the light that danced in her eyes when she talked about them. How she would make them smile with just the slightest of gestures. She wanted them all to be saved, happy and free from distress. And she tried her damnedest to do just that. With every single child. Livy was definitely capable of love. And I hoped one day that I could convince her that she was capable of loving children of her own.
My children.
Our children.
But I’m going to take it one day at a time. I have all the patience in the world.
I hugged her. “Livy, you work so hard at helping the people that want to be helped. And they may not have a Rockefeller Christmas this year but they might some day. Because of your help. Because of your heart. That is exactly the reason you deserve every gift that’s ever been given.”
Livy sighed, “I know. It’s just that I look into those kids’ eyes and all I see is sadness and worry. I just want them to have the childhood they deserve. No child should be homeless. Children should be happy and carefree. No child deserves to have those looks in their eyes that I see every day. What did they ever do to anyone?”
And just then, Livy answers my question. I know exactly what I’m getting her for Christmas.
~~~
“We’re taking the car?” Livy asks, as the apartment building elevator opens to the parking garage.
“Mmmhmmm,” is all I reply.
“You are a mysterious man, Jeremy Waters.”
“Why thank you, Livy.”
We get in the car and head to our destination. While I drive, Livy remains silent and she is dissecting our route, trying to figure out where we are going.
Finally, I pull into a small parking lot behind a two story building.
“Jeremy,” Livy looks at me “this is...this is the shelter. What are we doing here?”
“Get out and help me unload the back, will ya?”
“The back? What the f...?”
“Come on then,” I say, heading toward the hatch of the car.
Livy meets me at the hatch and I open it just as I’m finishing up a text message to Roscoe, a volunteer at the shelter who is going to meet us outside with a rolling cart.
Livy peers inside the hatch. “Jeremy! What is this?”
“Gifts for the kids, of course.” There are about four dozen gifts, wrapped with shiny Christmas paper and ribbons and bows. All shapes and sizes. Three for each child at the shelter. I called the manager, Macy, who is good friends with Livy, and asked if I could get the first names, gender and ages of all the children intending to stay there that night, which happened to be Christmas Eve. She gave me the names of twelve children. I had taken up a collection at work and mom and the aunts chipped in as well. I went out shopping and purchased three toys for each child. Mom and the aunts volunteered to wrap the gifts and they did a beautiful job. We’re talking Martha Stewart professionalism level.
“Jeremy, tell me. What is all this?” Livy asks, just as Roscoe comes out with the cart.
“I asked some people at work to chip in a few bucks for some Christmas presents for the homeless children where you volunteered. I also told mom about it in passing conversation and she insisted that she, Jenna and Maggie would chip in too. And they wrapped everything. After I collected the money, I called Macy this morning and got the names and ages of all the kids. Each kid has three gifts here, labeled with their names. Macy said there is a tree set up in the chapel so Roscoe here is going to help us load these onto the cart and we are going to put them under the tree. Then, we are going to gather the children and their parents and hand out gifts. Oh, and mom also made Christmas cookies.”
Livy is staring at me, speechless. I can tell she’s speechless because her mouth is agape as if she wants to speak but she’s just unable to.
“Merry Christmas, Livy.”
She inhales a quick deep breath. Then, she exhales a quick deep breath. By the dim light of the bulbs illuminating the parking lot, I can see her eyes are getting glassy.
“Jeremy,” she finally lets out in a breathy tone. “Oh...my...god. I don’t even...how did you?”
“I pulled some strings. You know, you’ve got a lot of clout around here, missy. I pitched the idea to Macy and she loved it. These people that work here would move heaven and earth for you. They absolutely adore you.”
“It’s true,” Roscoe confirms.
Livy looks at Roscoe briefly and then back at me. She lurches toward me and gives me a big bear hug. She whispers in my ear, “Tell those brain cells of yours good job. You figured out the perfect gift indeed. Thank you, Jeremy. Thank you so much!”
“You are most welcome. I knew this would mean a lot to you.”
“You have no idea.”
She lets me go. “Let’s get this party started.” Once we get the gifts loaded onto the cart, I reach into the hatch and grab two large duffle bags that were hiding behind the gifts.
“What are those?” Livy asks.
I looked down at my hands each holding a duffle bag weighing, I’d say, a good fifteen pounds. “Well, after asking people at work for money for the kids at your shelter, a number of them got together and decided to donate clothes as well. There are clothes in here of all sizes. Women’s clothes. Kid’s clothes. Baby clothes, if you ever need them. In the back seat, I’ve also got a box of blankets, two boxes of women’s shoes, a box of children’s shoes and a suit bag that has three women’s suits that you could maybe loan out for job interviews for the mothers.”
Livy lifts her hands and cups her mouth, fingers pointing toward her nose as if she’s saying a silent prayer. “Holy fuck, Jeremy! This is just...so...amazing! I seriously cannot believe this is happening.” She hugs me again and I’m forced to drop the duffle bags. “Thank you!” she says again.
I hug her back. We engage in one of those comforting, solace hugs she’s always referring to and we stay there for a long time. Roscoe clears his throat to break our spell. “Sorry, Roscoe,” I say.
“No worries,” he replies. “It’s pretty chilly out here. Best we get inside.”
“Absolutely!” Livy says. Roscoe begins to walk in with the cart. Livy follows behind, cookies in hand, with what appears to be a skip in her step. I pick up the duffle bags and decide to retrieve the rest that’s in the back seat later. There’s no way I’m going to delay Livy’s fun any longer.
~~~
The children were thrilled and the parents were so very grateful. Roscoe and I made another trip to the car with the cart and retrieved the donated clothes. After all the gifts were opened and all the clothes were given a once over, Livy and I decided to head home. We thank Roscoe and everyone at the shelter that was involved with helping. Making our way out the door, in the parking lot toward the car, Livy grabs my hand and stops walking. I stop and turn to her. “What is it, Livy?”
She stares into my eyes and then puts her hands on either side of my face. She slowly runs both of her thumbs up and down my cheekbones, still staring. I wait for her to speak. Instead she kisses me. A hard, passionate, breathtaking kiss. With her hands still on my face, she releases my lips from hers. Her eyes hone in on mine once more.
“I love you, Jeremy.”
I smile the biggest smile I’ve ever smiled in my history of smiling smiles.
I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off of her feet. She wraps her arms around my neck and I attempt to kiss her. It’s difficult, however, for my lips to make any sort of simulation of the position they should be while kissing because they are too busy smiling.
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I can’t stop smiling.
She loves me.
My heart feels so big that I feel like I want to...
Cry?
I put her back down on the ground and envelope her into a hug. One of those hugs.
She said she loved me. I knew she would eventually, but finally hearing it after waiting all this time, waiting for her to be ready to admit she loved me is...it’s quite an overwhelming feeling.
Blood is rushing to my head, which is suddenly spinning. My heart is volleying itself between my chest and the bottom of my shoulder blade. My face is stuck in eternal smile mode. My hands are sweating.
All because she said she loves me. My body may be shutting down on me, yet I want to hear it again.
With her head still resting against my chest and our arms locked tightly around each other, I say, “Say it again. Please.”
There’s silence. Did I imagine it? Wait, am I dreaming?
“I love you, Jeremy.”
Ah. There it is. The pinch I needed. Not dreaming.
I squeeze Livy tighter. “I love you too. So much.”
~~~
“Good morning,” I say to Livy as I roll over to wake her up. She’s lying on her stomach, naked with the covers only covering her from the waist down. Her back might be my favorite part of her body. The curve of her shoulders, her olive skin and the dimples at the bottom, just above her ass, all drive me wild. It’s a blank canvas that I want to paint with kisses. Which is what I do. I start at her neck and work my way down.
“Mmm. Good morning to you too,” she says. She lets me kiss her on the back a few more times and then she rolls over, takes my face into her hands and kisses me. “I love you,” she whispers.
