by Stella
“Where did you find it?”
“Under Alex’s bed.”
I didn’t need to ask. If this was how Jasmine had to do things to keep from feeling like she was betraying Lexi, then I couldn’t complain. Instead, I tipped back my beer and waited while she invaded some secret stash that must’ve contained something important.
“There’s a movie stub for…Thor. Hmm, that’s odd. I specifically remember this coming on TV not too long ago, and she told me she’d never seen it.”
It took me a second to recall why she would’ve kept that of all things. Then that night came back to me like a dream. It was the movie that had been playing when I mentioned wanting kids with her someday. To me, it hadn’t been that big of a deal, just something I’d said in conversation, but it must’ve meant something to her. I never would’ve guessed a crying baby in the middle of a crowded theater would spark a discussion about children, and in turn, about a future. Nor would I have assumed that ten-second admission would’ve meant that much to her.
“Eww. An old pair of boxers. Let’s hope those are clean.” She either didn’t hear my snicker or ignored it and moved on. “A few mushy greeting cards. Oh, here’s a letter.”
“Don’t read that!” I nearly choked on my words as soon as I realized what it was. I’d completely forgotten about the note I’d written the morning after Lexi had given herself to me. I couldn’t recall what words I’d used, considering when I had put the pen to paper, I didn’t give any thought to what came out, but they weren’t meant for anyone else’s eyes—that much I knew with certainty.
“I’m starting to think I may need hand sanitizer after going through this. I feel gross.” She audibly shuttered before moving on. “Here’s a concert ticket, which if you ask me, was a complete waste of money. It’s much cheaper to buy the CD.”
I disagreed but chose not to debate it with her. I closed my eyes and thought back to the night I held Lexi in front of me, her back to my chest and my hands on her hips, while we swayed to the music beneath the stars. That was definitely not a waste of money.
“I’m not sure what this is…” She grew quiet, probably analyzing whatever it was she came across, and her pause had me sitting on the edge of the seat, anticipation rolling through me. “It looks like a wad of construction paper that has since been flattened. Any chance y’all had a kid who made her something out of red and green paper?”
Lost in my thoughts, frantically fighting against memories in search of whatever that could be, I almost missed her next words. “Smells like cheap perfume, too.”
And then it hit me.
I knew exactly what that was.
And I couldn’t believe she’d kept it.
“What’s that?” Lexi asked, pointing to the bookcase in my room.
“Nothing.” I jumped up and quickly tried to hide it, even though she clearly already saw it.
“Stop, Chris.” She giggled. “Really, what is it? Why won’t you let me see?”
Conceding, I stepped away to give her a better look.
“A book on how to do origami? I didn’t know you were learning how to do that.”
“I was trying to make you something. Turns out…it’s not as easy as it looks.”
Her eyes glistened with excitement and love. “What were you making me?”
I picked up the messy attempt at a gift and handed it to her. “You said you hate flowers because they die. And I personally think fake flowers are cheesy. So I figured I’d make you one. I’m pretty sure a kindergartner could’ve done it better.”
Lexi lifted the construction paper to her nose and hummed. “It even smells good.”
I shrugged, not understanding why she wasn’t laughing at it. Hell, I did. Right before I had shoved it on a shelf and forgotten about it. “I used some of the body spray you left here.”
Jasmine continued listing the items from the box, but I couldn’t pay attention to much. I was in awe of the tangible things of our past that Lexi deemed worthy enough to keep all these years. It was just one more thing to give me hope of getting her back.
Every morning, I sent Lexi a text, letting her know I was thinking about her and that I wished for her to have a good day. It was something I’d started this last trip to California. Even though I was three hours behind her, I’d set my alarm to go off at four—seven her time—just so I could tell her good morning before she’d leave for work. At first, she sent back a smiley face or “thank you,” then her responses became warmer, telling me the same.
In addition to that, anytime I happened to notice she was on her computer downstairs and her inner office message light was on, I would ask how she was doing and how her day was. Sometimes she offered quick responses, which let me know she was busy, and others, she’d elaborate for five minutes or so before one of us were called away.
But today…today I upped my game.
CeeCee had proven to be helpful by relaying her ongoing conversations with Lexi to me. And Jasmine managed to spark my creativity when she “accidentally” found Lexi’s treasure chest under the bed while searching for the back of her earring, which she’d later found on her earring…in her ear.
“How did she look when she saw it?” I asked Carl during our daily round of golf.
He set his glass of tea down—to make up for kicking him out two weeks ago, I’d added a decorative café cart to my office and hung a sign behind it on the wall that read: Carl’s Hole In One Thousand Break Bar.
“Well, kinda like this.” Giving me his best imitation of Lexi’s face when she came into work this morning, he popped his eyes open wide and dropped his chin, his mouth forming a rather large O. I’m sure it was meant to be an expression of utter surprise, yet it came off as horrifying, resembling the Halloween mask the killer wore in Scream.
“And then what did she do?”
“She stuttered…a lot, and asked me if I had anything to do with it.” He shrugged and added, “As much as I wanted to take the credit, I didn’t. You’re welcome, man.” And then he lined his putter up with the ball on the floor.
“Thanks.” That word was weighted with so much sarcasm I probably lost thirty pounds just by saying it. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem. That’s what buddies do for each other.” He tapped the ball and then fisted the air, although I had no idea what for. He seemed pleased with his putt…except the ball had maybe moved three inches, and the cup was at least four feet away. But he didn’t give me time to say anything before slapping his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it, man. I’ve shared a cube with her for five years and leave trash everywhere all the time, yet she never gave me the time of day. You waltz in on your shiny pony and scatter folded paper all over her desk, and she can’t stop smiling.”
I let the comment about waltzing in on a pony, shiny or otherwise, go and focused on the last part of his sentence. “She can’t stop smiling?” And apparently, neither could I.
“Well, after she cried, yeah.”
“She cried?”
“Are you having trouble hearing me? Yes, she cried. I tried to console her, but she gave me the finger. It took her a minute to calm down, and once she did, she unfolded one. More tears. More middle fingers being throw in my direction. And then she smiled. That’s when I was called into Martin’s office, so I missed the next ten minutes, and when I returned, she was still smiling.” Carl reached into his back pocket, pulled out a small notebook, and flipped to a page in the middle. “At ten after nine, she was still smiling. Same at nine fifty. And again at ten fifteen. Although, at ten thirty-seven, I did note that maybe I should call for psychiatric help, because no one smiles for that long. At eleven—”
“Okay, I get it. Thanks.” I slapped him on the back and went to my desk. “You still plan on helping me after work, right?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
The last few hours of the day felt like years. Probably because I couldn’t stop checking the inner-office messages, hoping to find one from Lexi, th
ough I never did. Aside from my morning text, I’d left her alone. I didn’t want to push, or make her feel like I was seeking her appreciation for the surprise I’d left on her desk before work, so I kept to myself and waited for the grand finale.
At five on the dot, I stepped off the elevator on the second floor and marched toward Lexi’s cubicle. Carl had promised to keep her there until I showed up, and that’s exactly what he did. When I turned the corner into the small space that housed their desks, he saluted me and ran out.
“What just happened?” She narrowed her gaze at me. “He was literally in the middle of telling me a story. Why’d he run off like that?”
“Don’t worry about it. Come with me.” I grabbed her hand and gently pulled her out of the chair.
“My stuff…”
“You won’t need it. Just follow me.” With my fingers lightly laced through hers, I guided her out of the cubicle, down the hall, and into the elevator. Although, I never let go of her hand. It was such a lazy grasp, loose and comfortable, yet it was part of our history that I hadn’t let go of, part of us that meant something to me. “So…which note did you open today?”
“Oh, we’re going to talk about it?” Her cheeks flamed with heat, and she failed at hiding a smile.
“Of course. Unless you don’t want to. Which is fine with me, too.”
“When I kiss your jaw,” she whispered, almost unsure of the words. “Do you plan on telling me what that’s supposed to mean?”
“My note should’ve explained it.” I’d decorated her desk with origami flowers of all colors and sizes, surrounding a larger, more detailed one that sat in a vase. Attached to the vase was a card with instructions for her to pull one petal off the ornate flower each day and read the message inside to discover a reason why I loved her.
“I know…but why do you love the way I used to kiss your jaw?”
The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, and when the doors opened, I led her out.
“Chris, what are we doing here?” She kept her voice low, preventing anyone from hearing her.
Ignoring her question—and waiting to answer the other one—I pushed open the emergency exit door leading to the stairwell. And before it closed behind us, I was on my way up, her hand tightening its hold on mine.
“Chris!” she scolded in a harsh whisper. “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” And just then, I reached another door, shoved it open, and turned to witness the awe in her eyes as soon as the sun bathed her in its light. “You’ve been working a lot lately, and I know you’re exhausted. I also know this transition between your old job and the new one comes with a lot of stress. So I wanted to give you somewhere to go when you needed a reminder of how small your problems are.”
She gasped and held her fingertips over her parted lips while admiring the city through wide eyes. “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“About the rooftop? About making my problems small?”
“You told me. I don’t remember when, but at the beginning of our relationship, you told me about how you used to go up to the roof at your mom’s place when you needed an escape. That from up there, it was easier to see how big the world was. How when you’d put it all into perspective, you’d realize just how small your problems were, and it’d make dealing with them less of a struggle.” I’d never forget her telling me that story, yet somehow, she didn’t recall sharing it with me.
“How did you remember that?”
I tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled. “How could I not?”
She glanced away and blinked, probably trying to hide the emotion forming in her eyes—she failed. “So, are you going to tell me why you loved it when I used to kiss your jaw?”
I’d wanted to see her face when I admitted this, but maybe it was better this way, with her staring out over the ledge of the building while I regarded her from the side. “Because I knew what it meant. I knew why you did it. So I guess you can say it wasn’t so much the kiss as it was the sentiment behind it.”
“I don’t understand.” She turned her narrowed gaze to me and waited for my answer.
“You’ve never admitted it, and maybe I’m completely off base, but I believe it was your way of telling me you love me without the words.” She’d done it for years just before she fell asleep and always after we’d made love—that gesture was the equivalent of her saying those three precious words I hadn’t heard since I left DigiTech.
She didn’t say anything else. Nor did she stop the single tear from sliding down her cheek. I reached up, wiped it away with my thumb, and smiled, hoping this hadn’t ruined the moment.
“Anyway,” I continued and took a step back. “I probably shouldn’t be telling anyone this, but the door up here is never locked. Feel free to use it whenever you need a break, or just want some fresh air away from the bustle of the city. Or…you know, if you just need a place to hide from Carl.”
“Nah.” She giggled and waved me off. “Ever since he’s taken up golf, he hasn’t been around much. Which, I should be upset about, because that means more work I have to do.”
“Yeah, you can take him back anytime.”
Lexi’s smile was small yet sincere, full of happiness. Then curiosity littered her brow. “When did you master the art of origami?”
“Let’s just say I had a lot of time in California, and the job didn’t take up all of it.”
“You learned how to do all that in two weeks?” Surprise widened her eyes.
It took me a moment to understand the confusion. “No. Not this last time I was there.” I let the unspoken answer settle in, that I had taken up folding paper as a hobby over the three years I was on the other coast. The three years I’d spent without her.
“Oh…” Her gaze fell to the center of my chest, but only briefly. Then she turned her sights toward the city. A breeze slithered between us, blowing her hair off her shoulder, and I couldn’t have stopped myself if I wanted to. The second my finger traced the line on her neck only I knew was there, needing to feel the softness of skin, she snapped her attention back to me and sucked in a quick breath.
I stared at her lips, and even though I was pushing my luck, I leaned down to bring them closer to mine. I took my time, not quite in hesitation as much as allowing her plenty of opportunities to stop me.
She did not.
And once my mouth covered hers, it was like my prayers had been answered. Like the heavens had heard my cries for help and erased the last five years, giving me a mulligan. All I needed were her lips to settle my world and soothe the ache in my chest I’d had since leaving for DigiTech.
Her lips.
They were the last ones I’d tasted.
And if I had my way, the last ones I’d ever taste again.
11
Lexi
I hadn’t talked to Jasmine about her sudden game of hide-and-seek—or the fact that Chris had kissed me, and I’d willingly participated—because I was exhausted by the time I got home, and we weren’t riding to work together since I had to stay late every night. Word was out on our floor about who had been chosen for the training positions, and neither she nor Carl lucked into one of those five spots. I hoped her behavior wasn’t a result of the selections, but until I talked to her, I wouldn’t know for sure. We’d been friends for too long to let Seneca Marketing come between us.
Looking at my monitor, I lost myself in thought and had been staring at the words on the screen for so long that they’d started to blur. I needed caffeine, or I wasn’t going to make it through the rest of the day.
When I came back from the breakroom, Jasmine and Carl were huddled together on his side of the desk whispering. Neither heard my return, so I watched and tried to eavesdrop to no avail. I resumed my seat notifying the two of them they weren’t alone, and the moment Jasmine made eye contact with me, she blushed a dark shade of pink.
“Hey, Alex.” She turned back to Carl and gave him a look I couldn’t decipher. “I�
��ll talk to you later.”
And before I could say anything or even ask her how she’d been, she blew by me and back to her cube. I watched her over my shoulder until I couldn’t see her behind the wall surrounding her desk.
“What was that about?” I asked Carl.
He shrugged. “Not sure what you mean, Carazenoskowitz.”
“You and Jasmine. You’ve both been acting weird.”
Carl seemed to contemplate his response in the amount of time it took him to blink. “Oh.” He glanced out of the opening to our cube and in the direction of hers, but I didn’t know what he was looking for. “We’re fucking.” He didn’t so much as crack a smile. There was no hint of embarrassment or worry about his proclamation. His expression remained as flat as it always did when he delivered a punch line.
I nearly choked on my coffee trying not to spit it all over the desk. “What? But you two can’t stand each other.” They bickered like an old married couple. In all the years we’d worked here, they’d never gotten along, and not once had Jasmine ever indicated any kind of attraction to Carl.
“You don’t have to like each other to sleep together. But we don’t do any sleeping anyhow. Just hot, raunchy sex,” he deadpanned.
I waited for him to tell me he was joking, yet he remained stoic and never cracked a smile. When I just stared back at him without responding, he finally turned away to check off something on the calendar he kept on the wall for Chris.
“I didn’t know you spoke French.”
“I don’t.” He appeared unfazed by my comment. “I’m glad you got your irritable bowel under control.” The guy was random if nothing else.
“I’m lost.”
“I would be too if I spent as much time in the bathroom as you do.”
It dawned on me he was referring to my frequent trips to the toilet to avoid Chris, but he didn’t know I had been hiding out. “Yeah. It was a rough couple of weeks. I’m better now, though.” I’d quit trying to hide and now quietly hoped I’d have cause to run into him or casually see him about the building. I wasn’t quite ready to throw my hands up in surrender and proclaim my undying love, but I definitely had to fight those new romance jitters.
