Missed Connections

by Tamara Mataya

  And there it is.

  In the midst of sleep deprivation, low blood sugar, and hippies violating my boundaries, I’ve stripped away the layers of indecision.

  I think of Blake first when I need support. Support is the foundation of a long-term relationship. Maybe a candle isn’t as exciting as fireworks, but it’s better to carry with you to find your way ahead. If Jack and I broke up, I’d lose Pete too. How could I ever look at my best friend’s face and not see his twin who broke my heart? Jack’s been opening up, but Blake made himself emotionally available from the start, and that’s important.

  Blake is the one. I need to get home and tell him that as soon as possible.

  Feeling light enough to float, I jump up, bag in hand, and leave the room. I have a receptionist to see, a phone to find, and a life to live.

  I tiptoe past the conference room and hit the communal bathroom before making my escape, because if life has taught me anything, it’s that you should always go when you have the chance. The resort isn’t big, but the hallways twist and turn, so I have to hike around a little to find the front desk. A young, bored-looking brunette is typing something onto a screen I can’t see.

  I clear my throat. “Excuse me. May I use your phone? I wanted to double-check an appointment.”

  “Sure.” She passes me the cordless phone and goes back to her typing.

  Excellent. I take a couple of steps away from the desk, ostensibly for privacy, but really, I want to be able to hear my phone when it rings. I dial my number. The Game of Thrones theme song rings out in the lobby. Surprised, I look at the receptionist.

  “I’m sorry. Someone left their phone here while they’re in a course.” She looks at the top drawer. The song stops when my voice mail kicks in. I don’t leave a message, staying silent for a moment instead.

  “That’s fine.” This is hilarious. She’s apologizing to me, thinking I’m annoyed that the noise is happening during my phone call. I fake a conversation confirming my “appointment” and give the phone back to her. Now I have to get her away from the desk.

  I lean closer. “Sorry, but I think one of your toilets is leaking.”

  Her head snaps up. “What?” I know that face. That’s the face I make when something barely falls under my jurisdiction at work and I don’t want to deal with it, but there’s no one else to handle the situation.

  “Yeah. I can’t be sure. I was in the other stall, but I thought I heard dripping. And saw a puddle,” I add when she looks like she’s going to ignore the leak.

  “Crap. That’s the second time this week.”

  I make a sympathetic face. “Do you have a pen and paper I could borrow? I need to write down my appointment time.”

  “Sure.” She rummages around and hands me a pad with the hotel’s information on it, then stands. “If you’re good, I have to go check on that leak.”

  “I’m perfect, thanks.” I begin writing, and she huffs and heads toward the bathroom.

  As soon as she turns the corner, I race behind her desk. Nothing else was missing from my things, so as soon as I grab my phone from the drawer, I speed walk outta there, trying to look casual while formulating my next move.

  Thankfully, it’s warm, and I flop onto a nearby bench once I’m outside. I’m stuck in the back end of Jersey with no vehicle and no friends. Blake? No. I don’t want to go into things with him rescuing me. That would set a precedent and the tone for our relationship in a way that I don’t want. I’m not a blond-haired princess in a video game; I don’t need to be rescued.

  Not by Blake, at least.

  But I’ve missed a text from him while the hippies had my phone.

  Hey, Sarah, it’s Blake. I know it’s not my place to interfere, but things didn’t look so good at Inner Space. Screw those hippies. I’ve got a job opportunity, if you’re interested, with a friend who’s head of HR at a women’s magazine. Let me know. I’ve emailed the details. It’s yours if you want it.

  My heart soars at this blinding light at the end of the tunnel. My fingers tremble while I check my email, sending back an immediate “YES” when I see the description and the starting pay. I call his number, but he doesn’t answer. Now I really want to get home.

  Pete doesn’t pick up when I phone him four times in a row. Even though I’m overstepping the bounds in a huge way—especially when I shouldn’t be calling him except to say good-bye—I call Jack.

  “Hey, I was just thinking about you.” His voice is warm and brings back memories best left in the bedroom of my past.

  “You got the distress signal?”

  “What’s happening?” The humor leaves his tone.

  “There’s been a situation with the hippies. I need a ride, but I’m still at the resort.”

  “What’s the address?”

  I tell him.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter 31

  Over an hour later, Jack pulls up and exits his car, and as happy as I am to see his friendly, familiar, non-hippie face, I realize again with stark clarity that I wish it were Blake, because he’s the one I really want to talk to right now. Blake’s emotional support has edged out the molten chemistry between Jack and me, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.

  Still, I can’t help smiling at him, sadness swelling because I still love him too and good-bye isn’t going to be easy to say. “Thank you.”

  He takes my bag. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll be better as soon as this place is just a speck in the rearview mirror. Total violation of my boundaries. And no sleep. They took my phone, had someone paw through our bags without our permission while we were in the course, taking things so we wouldn’t be distracted by the outside world.”

  “What the hell?”

  “So I left the course and stole my phone back.” I grin, feeling a bit like a badass.

  “What about Fern and Ziggy?”

  “What about them?”

  “What did they say when you told them you were leaving?”

  I pause and bite my lip. “Oh, I haven’t exactly told them.”

  “Sarah!” He laughs. “You have to tell them you’re leaving.”

  “Maybe I told them etherically…”

  “You what?” His forehead wrinkles in confusion.

  “It’s something they do, where they basically meditate and imagine telling the person.”

  “Sarah.”

  I guess sneaking off isn’t the best course of action, but I don’t want to deal with them anymore today. “I’m scared I might say something I’ll regret. Or wave my new job offer in their faces while flipping the bird.”

  He tilts his head. “That’s fair.”

  “Sarah, what’s going on?”

  I get a crick in my neck as I whip my head toward the entrance of the hotel. Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have joked about that etheric crap. “Hi, Ziggy.”

  “You can’t just leave the program. We’ve given you plenty of time to cool off from your little performance in group, but it’s time to come back now.” He squints suspiciously at Jack.

  “Ziggy, I’m sorry, but it’s just not for me. I gave it a fair try, but it’s not something that I’m comfortable continuing.” That’s about as diplomatic as I can be under the circumstances.

  Ignoring Jack, Ziggy stops in front of me and crosses his arms. “There are three days left. A lot can happen in those days that I think you’ll want to stick around for. You’ve been doing well so far. Don’t let the phone get in the way of your enlightenment.”

  He’s trying to entice me back, but I don’t give a tiny crack of a rat’s ass about the rest of the course. What I’ve seen already has been more than enough. His eyes don’t have bags or dark smudges under them like mine do, and that makes me wonder something. “Ziggy, do you and Fern sleep in a room with a bed?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “That’s what I thought. Sorry, but I can’t stay and drown in the hypocrisy anymo
re.” They lie around comfortable and well-fed while we starve on the path to spiritual growth? No thanks.

  “Hypocrisy?” He puffs up, and his face flushes. “If you value your employment with us, you will tread very carefully, Sarah. We’ve forgiven so much already, taken more than others would of your defensive behavior and disinterest in fitting in with us. We’ve made many allowances to your ways. Many.”

  Jack laughs. “It’s a job, dude, not a religion. You take yourself way too seriously. She shouldn’t have to become one of you just to get a paycheck.”

  “She belongs to us. As long as she works for Inner Space, she will be whatever we say she will be.”

  Wow. “Thanks for making it easy for me, Ziggy. I don’t know what possessed me to think I needed to take so much bullshit from you guys in the name of fitting in or keeping the peace. Maybe there is some kind of energy field around the reception area that made me forget who I am. I quit.”

  He makes a weird barking sound. “You can’t just quit, young lady! You owe us two weeks’ notice at the very least.”

  “So you can make my life even more hell than usual? No thanks. If you were going to fire me, would you give me two weeks’ notice, or would you sneak in my replacement for an interview on the weekend and just tell me not to come in on Monday? I’d rather not find out. I owe you nothing.”

  Ziggy looks around as though searching for an excuse before his eyes light up. “You owe us for the course.”

  My degree finally gets some use. “You gave me this for free. I have copies of the paperwork. You can’t suddenly decide to charge me thousands of dollars for it after the fact. There’s no way I’m paying you a goddamned cent, and nothing you say to the contrary would hold up in court.”

  “Listen here, missy. You will—”

  “Hey, Ziggy?” Jack interrupts with a smile.

  “What?” Ziggy snaps.

  “Breathe into it.”

  The vein in Ziggy’s forehead swells to epic proportions as I freely laugh.

  “Come on, Sare.” Jack grabs my hand and leads me to the curb, opens the passenger door, and shuts it behind me. A few seconds later, he slides behind the wheel and slams his own door. “Crazy fucking hippies.”

  “I can’t believe you told him to breathe into it. You’re my hero.”

  “They’re delusional. What truly awful people. It wasn’t my place, but I couldn’t help it.”

  The comfort of the car seat and the heat of the sun on my face makes me sleepy, but I have a more pressing need. “We have to stop for some food.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t care. Something quick, hot, and greasy, with as many preservatives in it as possible.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He steers the car down the street, and my mouth salivates at the sight of fast-food restaurants. “Sure you don’t want to eat fresh?” He points at a sandwich shop.

  My glare could melt glass. “I said greasy.”

  He laughs.

  I’m scrabbling at the door before the car is in park and heading inside, practically drooling at the smell of food. Verboten food full of preservatives and nitrates and chemicals. Processed cheese. I stroll up to the counter. “Can I have a cheeseburger with no onions, no pickle, extra cheese, extra bacon? And six chicken nuggets. And large fries. Do you have extra-large?”

  The guy at the counter looks a little stunned and shakes his head.

  “Then give me a large and a small. And I want a Coke. And a chocolate milk shake. Do you have any pies?”

  He shakes his head. “We sold out at lunch.”

  “Damn. Okay, that’s all then. For here.”

  He rings up the order, and I swipe my bank card. Jack makes it to the counter. His smile grows bigger as more and more items are set on the tray.

  I hope he doesn’t think I’m sharing. “Aren’t you getting anything?”

  “I ate already. Need some help carrying that tray?”

  “No, I’m good, smart-ass.”

  He orders a milk shake, I suspect only so I’m not eating alone, and we head to a table. All I can smell is the bacony goodness. My cheeks are barely in the chair before I’m tearing into the burger and stuffing my face with fries.

  It takes four nuggets, the large fries, and half of the burger before the hunger haze lifts and my awareness expands to include things other than my empty stomach and my tray of food. Jack’s eyes are big as I swallow my bite. The past few minutes can’t have been pretty to watch.

  He steals a fry. “Didn’t they feed you up there in hippie Siberia?”

  “Gruel.” There’s only time for one word as I shovel in another bite of juicy burger.

  Jack grins, but he doesn’t realize I’m serious. Unfortunately, my stomach has shrunk, and I fill up way too soon for my tongue’s liking. The food is delicious, and I could eat for hours if not for my protesting stomach. Despite being stuffed, I pick the bacon off the burger and cram it in my mouth for my final bite.

  “Full?”

  “Yes.” I pat my stomach.

  “That’s good. You were all big eyes and sharp teeth for a while there. Now you’re looking more relaxed.”

  “Maybe too relaxed. I’m so sleepy.”

  “You can sleep in the car. Come on. Let’s get you home. What’s this about a new job?”

  Suddenly, the food in my belly doesn’t feel so great. “A friend, Blake, hooked me up.” I give him the details about the job.

  The drive takes forever, but I can’t tell him while we’re driving. At some point I doze off, because I wake up to his hand gently stroking my cheek.

  “Sarah, wake up. We’re here.”

  I blink, stupidly leaning into his touch. He’s parked us in the shade of one of the tall trees that line my street, but it’s still so bright and warm that I could easily slip back to sleep. Four kids on bikes zip by, laughing, and I sit up, checking my face for drool. Man, I was really out.

  A group of teenagers crowds the steps of the apartment building across the street. Jack leans closer, and his lips curl into a gentle smile.

  I pull back. “I need to go inside.”

  He takes the key out of the ignition, but I stop him from leaving the car with a hand to his arm. It’s not fair to him or Blake to continue like this. Not even one more kiss. I’ve finally made a decision and need to honor it.

  “We need to talk.”

  He goes very still. “Okay.”

  The gentle haze of sleep deserts me, leaving behind painful reality. “We can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

  He grips the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles go white. “This again? Why not?”

  “Jack, I know it sounds like the oldest cliché in the book, but it’s really not you. It’s me.”

  “Don’t do this, Sarah.”

  “We’re amazing together, but not in all the ways I need.”

  “What we have isn’t just sexual!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Is there someone else?”

  I nod.

  He slumps in his seat. “What’s his name? Blake?”

  “He’s the one who got me the new job.”

  “I offered you a job too.”

  “I know. It just wasn’t the best fit for me, Jack.”

  “I can’t believe this.” He won’t even look at me. I know I’m the one hurting him right now, but it kills me that he won’t look at me.

  “I know. But believe me when I say it wasn’t easy, and you mean so much to me.” Tears drip down my cheeks, and I try to hide them because I don’t have the right to cry while breaking up with him. Jack’s the injured party, but I can’t help it. My heart’s still breaking in two, and half of it will leave in his car with him and trail around behind him forever. A piece of me will always belong to Jack.

  He nods.

  I squeeze his hand and leave the car, forcing myself not to look back. His car rumbles and drives away, and through the uncertainty, I feel a little lighter now that I’ve made a definit
ive decision. I made the right choice for my future. It’s time to move on with Blake.

  Chapter 32

  The whole situation makes me feel like crap, but if nothing else, the hippie weekend made me realize that Blake is the one I need to be with, the one I want even more than Jack, which is saying a lot. If Blake and I had never met, who knows what Jack and I might have eventually been?

  But I have to focus on the future, and that means telling Blake I’m ready to meet right now. I don’t know if Jack and I will ever be able to be friends again. I don’t know if Blake and I will work in person. But I know I want to give him my full heart and a fair chance. He’s the smart choice, and it’s time for me to grow up.

  Being so out of my depth with Fern and Ziggy eroded my self-confidence in ways I hadn’t expected and can only see now that I know I’m not going back to Inner Space. I wanted to fit in so badly that I overlooked how shitty they truly were to me, and it made me doubt my decision-making abilities, even when it came to Blake and Jack. I was so paralyzed about making the wrong decision that I wasn’t able to make any decision at all. Then seeing the way Fern and Ziggy cheated people and lied to us at the retreat was like a bucket of cold water poured over my body.

  I need to be true to myself, but I need to keep other people in mind too and not justify my own bullshit like Fern and Ziggy do. Maybe I’m making the wrong choice in the long run, but I don’t think I am. And even if I am, that’s what life’s about. At least I’ll have put myself out there and tried to do the right thing, tried to be a good person.

  Jack and Blake deserve someone who’s going to give them one hundred percent. I can only give that to one man. I refuse to give less than that to one man.

  The weight of my mom’s history falls from my shoulders. I’m not like her, and I never will be. I made the best decision, and I’m sticking with it. A smile takes over my face, and I turn my computer on and wait for it to boot up. Then I spring up and look around in the fridge. Do I have anything I can make for a dinner? I find a baking chicken and vegetables. Homey and perfect. I log on to Skype and message Blake, though he’s away.