by Staci Hart
“Mom,” she warned.
Laura’s eyebrows were up as she reached for a bowl of carrots. “Is that a no?”
“That’s a no.”
“Well,” Laura said as she spooned carrots onto her plate, “it couldn’t hurt to be a little more lip gloss and a little less gun metal.”
Josie’s mouth hung open for a split second before she snapped it shut. “I don’t have time for lip gloss, and I happen to like guns.”
Paul snorted. “Speaking of boyfriends, I saw Jon at the station the other day.”
She shoveled roast into her mouth to stop herself from responding.
Her father chuckled. “Rosie made him wait a half an hour for a check she cut him weeks ago. I think it was sitting on her desk the whole time he was waiting.”
Josie dropped her fork with a clang. “Am I the only one who doesn’t find it amusing that half the precinct knows the gruesome details of my failed love life?”
“Oh, come on, Jo,” Paul said with a smirk. “Giving Jon hell is the least we can do to dish that asshole a little payback.”
“Language, Paul.” Laura gave him a look.
Josie eyeballed him too. “Look, as much as I appreciate the thought, I just wish everyone would drop it.”
Paul leaned on the table. “The guy left town with his ex that he’d knocked up and didn’t even have the guts to tell you he was leaving. I mean, what kind of coward doesn’t break up with someone face to face?”
A thousand thoughts fired through Josie’s mind, so many that her mouth couldn’t even pick one.
Gia elbowed him in the side. “Paul,” she hissed.
He looked at his wife like he had zero clue. “What? I’m just reminding her why we all hate him just as much as she does.”
Josie shoved her rage down a notch from cracking skulls to spitting nails. “I don’t need reminding, and I very seriously doubt that your feelings about him could be stronger than mine. Can we just not talk about it? Please? For God’s sake, I just want to come to Sunday dinner and not have everybody up my ass.”
“Language!” Laura said, exasperated, then turned her fury on her husband. “Hank, control your children.”
Hank set his fork down and leaned on his forearm. “Josie, honey, on behalf of our entire misguided but well-meaning family, I would like to apologize. I know we have a funny way of showing it, but we only want you to be happy.”
Josie made eye contact with each member of her family. “It would make me happy if everybody would drop it. I’m fine, okay? I don’t want a boyfriend, and I don’t need help from the vigilante heart police. Now, can we please change the subject?”
“Sure, Jo. Sure.” Hank turned to the other side of the table. “Gia, I think we would all love to hear about the nursery. Has Pauly finished painting, or do I need to knock some sense into him?”
Gia let out a breath and smiled, breaking the tension with the details of paint swatches and curtains before she and Laura entered into a debate about stomach versus back sleeping. Josie ate her meal in silence as the family chatted, and the only real comfort she felt was in the moment her grandmother patted her hand and they shared a smile.
Dinner eventually ended, and the table was cleared by Liz, who stacked all the dishes in the kitchen to wait for Josie and her grandmother to attack as they did every Sunday.
Josie leaned against the counter with a towel slung over her shoulder, watching as Gran rolled up her sleeves and buried her weathered hands in the bubbles.
“Don’t be mad at Paul or your mother, Josie.” Gran’s eyes were on her hands as she scrubbed a plate.
“I’m not mad. I’m fine.” Josie thought maybe she sounded convincing.
Gran eyed her and dunked the plate in the rinse side of the sink. “You can’t fool me.”
Josie sighed as she took the plate from Gran and ran her towel over it.
Gran picked up another plate and went to work on it. “Your mother believes that a family will satisfy you because that’s where she’s found her joy. She just doesn’t realize how horrible she sounds when she tries to ‘help.’”
“I know they mean well, really, but I dread coming over here every week. How can I keep moving forward if everyone keeps bringing up the past?”
“Moving forward, hmm?”
“What? I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that. When was the last time you went on a date?”
Josie’s lips pressed flat. “That’s not the point.”
“Okay, when was the last time you went out with your girlfriends?” Gran raised an eyebrow and handed Josie another wet plate.
Josie dripped the excess water into the sink. “I …” She had no excuse. “A long time. It just doesn’t feel right anymore. Nothing does.”
Gran’s face went soft, though she didn’t make eye contact, just nodded to the bubbles. “I know it feels that way, but I promise that one day you will wake up, and things will be different.”
That was all it took to make the back of her throat burn. She swallowed her tears. “I keep thinking that will happen, but every day is the same.”
“You just have to give it time. You have been through so much over the last few years. You lost your best friend a few months ago in a way that few could imagine. You lost Jon—” Josie opened her mouth to speak, but Gran cut her off with a look. “—and don’t you tell me that he doesn’t mean anything to you, Josephine Campbell, because I will call you a liar.”
Josie shut her mouth.
Gran looked back at her hands as she rinsed a glass. “That kind of pain changes you. I know that for a fact, just as well as I know that you will find happiness again. You don’t live as many years as I have in this world without having to endure.”
Josie couldn’t find a way through to that point, could barely even imagine the possibility of being happy again. “How do you find happiness after so much hurt?”
When their eyes met again, Gran only smiled and said simply, “It’ll find you, when the time is right.”
Day 2
DAWN CREPT INTO THE KITCHEN where Jon sat at his table writing in his blue spiral notebook. He ripped a page out with a huff and crumpled it up, tossing it next to the other wadded papers strewn across the surface beside a plate of forgotten eggs. He clicked the butt of his pen a few times, then stuck it in his mouth.
He’d been trying to write the letter to Josie for a month, ever since he saw her for the first time after moving back to New York. There was so much to say, too much to say, and he couldn’t get the words right. He’d thrown away a hundred letters that were proof.
Leaving New York, leaving Josie was the hardest thing he’d ever done, and he’d spent three years in New Orleans trying to move on, but he’d only discovered one thing. There was no getting over her.
They had dated for only a few weeks when everything fell apart, though they’d been friends and colleagues for over a year before that. He longed for the days passed, moments and hours full of her sighs and smiles. That time was the happiest of his life, as silly as it seemed. But he’d known from the first minute he’d ever seen her that she was what he wanted.
The day that Tori told him she was pregnant, his life was flung into an emotional washing machine and set to spin. Moving back to New Orleans seemed like the only option. Getting back together was never on the table, and if they were ever going to make it apart with a baby, Tori needed to finish school and get a degree. She’d have to quit working, and Jon couldn’t support both of them on his unstable income in Manhattan. Her parents lived nearby, but there wasn’t room for them, not to mention that her father flat out hated Jon. So they moved in with his parents where they could live rent-free and save, survive. Set themselves up for a real future.
Looking back he knew he’d handled Josie all wrong, but in the moment, he didn’t know what else to do. Everything was rocked and flipped upside down, and he panicked. He couldn’t face her to say goodbye, couldn’t look into those eyes of hers and tell her he was le
aving. He had to take care of his family, and to do that, he had to leave. He couldn’t ask her to give up her life and come with him, didn’t even know how he was going to handle his future. Handle being a father.
More than that, though, he couldn’t stand to see the disappointment and hurt when he told her he was having a baby with someone else. He pictured her crying, screaming, hating him. He couldn’t bear that rejection any more than the pain of trying to hold on to her in a situation that was impossible for both of them.
So, instead of sacking up and facing her, he poured his heart, soul, and guts into a letter for Josie, telling her everything. Giving her the choice and leaving it in her hands. Telling her that he’d always be there if she could find a way to forgive him, and if she wanted him.
She never called.
For three years he obsessed about her, wondering just what she thought of him. He figured she despised him for leaving, for the baby, for being a coward. Deep down he’d hoped that somehow she didn’t actually hate him. That maybe she hadn’t called because she understood why he left and accepted it but didn’t want him and didn’t want to talk about it. It didn’t stop him from wishing every day that his phone would ring, and she’d be on the other end waiting for him.
Part of him hoped they’d never come back to New York again. Hoped he could close the door on that chapter and find a way to start fresh. But New Orleans never grew on Tori, and really, he should have known she would always want to go back home.
The second Tori got her accounting degree she was ready to move back, and there was no talking her out of it. So they packed up a moving van like a macho version of Jenga, said goodbye to his family and home, and moved back to New York where all the things he couldn’t forget were waiting for him.
★★★
The first time he saw Josie again was a few weeks after he made it back to Hell’s Kitchen. It was a blustery day in February, and he stopped into the Midtown South Station to check the bulletin board. The second that he walked in the door, he saw Josie standing at the board with her back turned, her long, red hair unmistakable.
He’d pictured the moment a thousand times and a hundred ways, and his mind flashed with each outcome. He’d stopped breathing as he stood there paralyzed, wondering where the roulette ball would land. The reality of three years of wishing and waiting was upon him, and his stomach ended up somewhere in his shoes as he walked toward her.
Jon stopped behind her and swallowed hard. “Josie?”
She spun around with disbelief written all over her face. “Jon?”
“Long time.” He smiled, hoping he looked cool as he watched her for a reaction with his heart clanging in his ears.
“Yes, long time,” she said softly, her doe eyes big and wide like she was caught in a gun scope.
They stood there in stunned silence. He didn’t know what to say, just looked over her for a moment before finally finding his wits.
“I—”
“What are you doing here?” It was more of an accusation than a question.
“We just moved back.” He shifted, feeling the anger roll off of her. Everything about her was wound tight, her voice, her face, her body.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“How’s Tori?” The words were bitter, and his chest burned.
“She’s fine,” he said quietly, and he wondered if she could hear the apology underneath his words. If she did, it didn’t seem to faze her.
“Well, that’s just swell.” Her voice climbed. “And how about your kid? Are you all getting along well? Because I sure hope you are. I hope you’re happy. Really happy.” She brushed past him, and he stood there shocked for a second before trotting after her.
“Wait, Jo.” He caught up with her as she barreled away and almost reached out to touch her. He clenched his fist to stop himself. “Josie, wait.”
She never stopped walking and wouldn’t look at him as she wound her way through the station.
Jon fought to keep up with her as she pushed open the station doors. “Josie, talk to me, please.”
When she reached the bottom of the cement steps in front of the building, she spun around, her whole body tense.
“Talk to you? And say what, exactly?” She laughed, though the sound held no joy, and when she put her hands on her hips, he knew he was in deep shit. “I don’t owe you anything, not after what you did.”
And with that, he had his answer. She did hate him. It was the worst imagined outcome. “I know you don’t owe me, Jo, but—”
“But what? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through over the last three years? ANY idea? I mean, between you and I? Whatever. We dated for a few weeks, which apparently isn’t long enough for you to even break up with me. You just fucking left without a single word. Who does that?”
His brow dropped. “Wait, you didn’t get—”
“And not only did you dump me without having the decency to even tell me that it was over, but then I find out you left town with your ex. Your pregnant ex. Tell me, were you fucking her the entire time too?”
“I—”
She threw her hands up. “No, you know what? I don’t want to know. It was humiliating enough to find out from your fucking landlord, who told me the ‘cute couple’ in 4D was expecting and had moved to New Orleans. So I swung by Tori’s parent’s place, who confirmed that you had in fact knocked her up and split town.”
“Josie, will you shut up for one second please?”
Her eyes narrowed, and her cheeks were on fire. “Oh, this better be good.” Her voice was deadly soft.
“You really think I would have left without saying goodbye?” he asked, shocked and frustrated. “I left you a letter—”
“I’m sorry, a what?” she asked through her teeth.
“A letter,” he huffed, “one that I assume you didn’t get?”
Her chest rose and fell as she stared at him. “A note?” It was almost a whisper. “You dumped me in a NOTE?”
He was too shocked to react when she pulled back and hooked him in the jaw.
Jon’s ears rang, and he bent over and pressed a hand to his jaw. “Fuck, Josie!”
“GodDAMMIT that hurt,” she growled as she shook her hand out. “You’re not even the worst thing to happen to me.” Her chest rose and fell. “Anne’s dead.”
He froze, and his hand dropped, the pain forgotten. “What?”
“No. Don’t even ask me because I will not relive that hell just to bring your sorry ass up to speed. Go read a fucking newspaper.”
“Now, wait a fucking second—”
“No, I won’t wait a fucking anything for you. Don’t come riding back into town acting like you have any rights. We have nothing to say.”
He stood there stupidly, watching as she turned, her hair snapping around her like a whip, remembering himself just in time to reach out and grab her. She stopped and turned, but jerked her arm from his grip.
“Hang on one goddamn minute, Josie. You don’t get to unload on me like that without letting me say my piece.”
She bit her lip, but her jaw was set, her nostrils flared as she sucked in and blew out a breath. She didn’t speak.
“First of all, if you had gotten that letter, you would know that Tori and I never got back together. I took her to New Orleans so we could have a shot at saving money and making lives for ourselves. And when I was with you, it was only you. I broke up with you in a letter, a letter that I have been waiting on an answer to for the last three years. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me because of Tori.”
“You’d be right.”
“But not in the way I thought. And not for the reason you thought.” He searched her face. “Josie, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Clearly.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and he didn’t know what else he could say. He finally landed on the one thing he’d been waiting to tell her for three years. “I’m sorry. I fucked up.”
&
nbsp; “That doesn’t change anything. None of this changes anything.” Her eyes glistened as they welled with tears.
“That’s not true.”
“It is for me.”
His eyes were locked on hers. “I don’t believe you.”
“Just who in the fuck do you think you are?” She backed away, her lip cranked up in disgust, her voice trembling. “Do me a favor, Jon. Stay away from me.”
He almost stopped her again when she spun around and took off. He had a hundred questions, a million things to say, but he just stood there like a fool on the sidewalk, rubbing his jaw as he watched her go.
All those years, she believed he was with Tori, that they were a happy little family. That she wasn’t important enough to him to say goodbye to when the truth was that it was the exact opposite. She hadn’t called because she didn’t know to, and that simple fact brought him enormous relief.
He didn’t know if he could ever bandage up the damage he’d caused, but he could sure as hell try.
★★★
Jon’s eyes clicked back into focus when he blinked. He’d walked away that day reeling, trying to make sense of it all. Everything he’d believed for three years about her was based on a misunderstanding. He couldn’t undo the damage, but he could try to win her back.
He knew Josie well, knew how to handle her. She wasn’t one for grand gestures, not when she was pissed. Those chocolates would go down the garbage disposal, the flowers would endure a full assault with a pair of scissors. No, step one in winning Josie over was to leave her alone.
A month had gone by, and he’d run into her a handful of times. The first time he saw her after their fight, she apologized curtly for hitting him and shut him down hard when he attempted to talk about anything deeper than the weather. Every time they met, she relaxed more and more until they were able to be civil, even joke around, and when they were chasing Chester, he saw the silver lining. It was the friendliest she’d been to him.
It always took him a full twenty-four hours to get over seeing her. The period also included an extra-hard push to get his feelings down on paper. Every time he saw her was thrilling and heartbreaking, a war of emotions that blew through him and left him spinning. He’d throw on a smile and hide his pain behind his charm, hoping that if he said the right thing, he could find a way back into her good graces, but she kept him pushed just far enough away that he couldn’t get to her. He did what he could to make her laugh, but every moment would slip away too soon, and the hurt and disappointment in her bottomless brown eyes would cut through him again and again.
