Just Jilted

by Lila James

  I entered Liz’s apartment, trying to make sense of what I’d seen. Perhaps Liz wasn’t seeing that guy. Maybe she just made out with her gay male friends in public on a lark.

  But I knew that wasn’t the case. Nor could I deny the fact that she was most likely sleeping with him. And the masochist in me wondered if Marcus had cheated on me as well toward the end of our relationship.

  I wanted to call someone, but Liz was the person I called in situations like these. For some reason I considered calling Jackson. I resisted the urge, especially when I remembered how I had insisted that Liz and Stewart were perfect subjects for our article on finding love in the big city. Now I wanted to laugh at the irony.

  To my surprise, Liz returned home only an hour later. I was parked in front of the couch watching television. I noticed she looked a little shaken, but she smiled when she saw me. I decided to test her.

  “Hey, Adrian,” she said, heading toward the kitchen. “Feeling better?”

  “Yeah,” I said, getting to my feet and trailing her to the kitchen. “So where you coming from?”

  Liz blanched, ever so slightly, before her smile once again appeared.

  “Work, of course,” she replied, walking over to the cabinets. “Why?”

  “Just now? It’s kind of late.”

  “I usually get home around this time,” Liz said, looking so puzzled she almost had me fooled.

  “That’s odd. Because I could have sworn I saw you outside kissing some guy who isn’t Stewart.”

  Now the color drained from Liz’s face. She froze but kept up the pretense.

  “Really? That’s weird because I just got home,” she said in a rush, avoiding my gaze.

  My shoulders slumped. Her lie was like a sucker punch in the gut. Why couldn’t she be honest with me?

  “Liz, come on. I saw you.”

  Liz finally looked at me. The guilt I saw in her expression gave her away.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s … complicated.”

  “Why couldn’t you just tell me? How long has this been going on? And why did you agree to let me interview you for the article if you were planning on dumping Stewart? I just pimped you and Stewart out to Jackson like you were the perfect couple!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry I’ve inconvenienced you and your article. I forget that this is all about you. And I’m not planning on breaking up with Stewart. Like I said, it’s complicated.”

  “You’re not breaking up with him? You’re just going to keep cheating on him? And how is it complicated? Did you stop to think about Stewart? Why are you doing this to him?”

  Liz’s eyes narrowed, and her guilty expression turned into an angry one.

  “Is this about Stewart or is this about you?” she demanded, stalking away from the kitchen.

  I always hated it when people left the room mid argument. Especially after they say something particularly vexing. It was something I saw both parents pull many times during their arguments as I grew up. Exasperated, I followed her back out to the living room.

  “Don’t try to change the subject!” I shouted. “Have you thought about how this is going to affect Stewart? Have you slept with him?”

  “No, I haven’t, and of course I’ve thought about Stewart! I’m freaking out. I have been since I found that stupid ring that wasn’t even for me! And you are being awfully judgmental when I could use a little advice!”

  “Advice? How about this for advice: don’t cheat on the boyfriend who loves you!”

  “Adrian, you don’t understand.”

  “How can I give you advice if you hide things like this from me?”

  “Because you have no objectivity. You’ll make everything about you and Marcus because whether you want to face it or not, what happened with you two is going to affect you for a while. Look at how you reacted when Marcus came here. So while you may think your sympathy is for Stewart, it’s really for yourself!” Liz shouted.

  I stared her down, determined not to show how much her words affected me. Liz took a breath, placing the palms of her hands on her forehead and closing her eyes.

  “I just need you to lay off me while I figure things out. Please?” she asked.

  “Will you at least tell Stewart?” I asked.

  There was a long pause. Liz opened her eyes and looked at me.

  “Yes. But in my own time. All right?”

  After a long pause, I nodded. We stood silently across from each other a few moments before Liz turned on her heel and disappeared into her room. There was a part of me that was glad Liz had escaped into the sanctuary of her room, because this was definitely an argument that could not be followed with a hug. It was a fight where both of us needed to retreat to their corners and take a breather.

  I returned to the living room and tried to focus on the television, but my mind was churning. Why couldn’t Liz just dump Stewart instead of cheating on him? Why did Marcus ever propose to me in the first place? Why did it seem to be so hard to just be honest in relationships?

  As I mulled over this, my cell phone rang.

  “Hello, angel,” Mom greeted me with a forced cheerfulness.

  By her tone, I knew that something was wrong. She must have found out about Dad’s wedding.

  “Hi, Mom,” I replied, praying that I was wrong.

  “So I just got the most interesting e-mail,” Mom continued brightly, crushing my hopes. I really, really, really needed to teach Dad how to not use the “Send All” feature on his e-mails. “Come celebrate the wedding of Robert and Chippy.”

  “Chippy?” I asked, stifling a giggle.

  “Whatever her name is,” Mom continued, still using that bright tone. “Interesting that he invited me. Via e-mail. His wife of over twenty years. And interesting that my daughter of twenty-eight years didn’t tell me. Wonderful. How wonderful.”

  “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you sooner. Did he—Mom?”

  Mom had erupted into what I assumed was laughter but sounded like painful choking. Mom had always laughed in an odd way. If she really got started in a laughing fit, it would begin in a high-pitched yell and conclude with a lot of coughing. But this was different.

  “Mom?” I asked again with apprehension, as the painful choking continued.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Mom said, gasping for breath. “You think I’m upset about your father’s wedding?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. I don’t care. I’m completely head over heels for Laurence. I’m just annoyed Robert had the nerve to send this to me. It took up all the storage in my inbox. I think it’s wonderful Robert is marrying the chippy he’s known for five minutes. I hope she knows that he always has to be right, refuses to compromise about anything, and he makes the most annoying face when he yawns. Also, he’s cheap, hates anything to do with culture or the arts, and if you’re not talking about something he’s interested in, he’ll fall asleep on you. He thinks he’s a genius at crossword puzzles. As if he’s the only person in the world who knows that five down is Stalin! He has a weird obsession with Scrabble and makes up words that don’t exist. And he—”

  “Stop it!” I blurted.

  I’d been content to let Mom vent over what was clearly her denial over being upset about Dad’s wedding, but I truly believed she would go on forever. In fact, while they were going through their divorce, I would often put my cell phone down on the coffee table while she ranted about Dad, go out for dinner, come back … and she’d still be rambling.

  “The wedding obviously bothers you, and I’m sorry. I really was going to tell you sooner. But isn’t it a good thing that you’ve both moved on?”

  “His wedding doesn’t bother me,” Mom insisted. “And yes, it’s wonderful that he’s moving on. He’ll be the chippy’s problem now. Speaking of moving on, Laurence and I are going on a trip.”

  “You and the Zygote?”

  “That’s not his name.”

  “Sorry. The Fetus.”

  “I’m going
to ignore that. I was calling to invite you and your new man to come ski with us next weekend.”

  “Like a double date?”

  “Like spending time with your mother and the boyfriend she adores because you don’t spend nearly enough time with her.”

  “We can have dinner. Or I can come up to see you. I absolutely do not ski.”

  The only time I’d ever gone skiing on the slopes was during a disastrous field trip in high school in which I’d spent the majority of the trip on my ass in the snow.

  “Didn’t you go skiing last year with Marcus?” Mom pressed.

  “I only went because he kept on insisting how romantic it would be. But I didn’t go anywhere near the slopes. I hung out in the lodge with a cup of cocoa the whole time. And I think it’s a tad early in the relationship for me to invite Douglas away for the weekend.”

  “Come alone, then.”

  “Mom, I really don’t want to go skiing. I’m sorry.”

  “Have fun at your father’s wedding!” Mom shouted, right before the line went dead.

  I stared at my cell phone for a moment, rolling my eyes. Mom was using the Zygote to not think about Dad’s upcoming nuptials, and she wanted me to play along.

  My phone shrilled again. I peeked at the caller ID this time before picking up. Mom again. With a heavy sigh, I answered.

  “Adrian,” Mom said, sounding defeated. “Look, I can’t say I’m overjoyed that Robert’s getting married again. Laurence and I are going skiing with a bunch of his friends, and I don’t know anyone. If you don’t come, I’ll have a lot of time on my hands to spend alone. It would be wonderful if you were there. I’d really appreciate it.”

  Ah, the good old-fashioned guilt trip. I would have a heart made of solid stone to turn her down.

  “Fine,” I conceded. “Just give me all the details. I’ll be there.”

  Later that evening, I had a dinner date with Douglas at a bistro in Tribeca. I was having a great time, but I couldn’t get the argument with Liz out of my mind. Douglas, for his part, let me rave about the whole thing for a good ten minutes before interjecting.

  “Why are you so upset about this?” he asked.

  “Why? Because she’s cheating on a perfectly nice guy. That’s wrong.”

  “And you’ve never cheated?” he asked.

  “No. Have you?”

  “When I was six I cheated on my first-grade girlfriend by kissing the neighbor’s daughter I had a crush on.”

  “That doesn’t count. Wait, you had a girlfriend when you were six?”

  “Yes. And it was quite serious.”

  “At six? That’s a whole other story. The point—what Liz did to Stewart is wrong.”

  “I’m not saying what she did isn’t wrong. But what’s that famous quote? ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’ Try not to be so judgmental, love. Everyone falters.”

  I looked at him, wondering how he could be so cavalier about the whole thing. I took a swig of my water, leaning back in my chair and throwing my hands up.

  “Fine. I’ll shut up about it. I’m sorry.”

  “You can keep venting,” Douglas said, reaching over to take my hand. “Carry on.”

  “No, I’m being a Debbie Downer. I’ll stop,” I insisted, squeezing his hand. “In other news, my mother asked me to go skiing with her and her boyfriend.”

  “Skiing? Where?”

  “I forget the name of the resort. Somewhere upstate.”

  “I haven’t been skiing in ages,” Douglas said with a wistful look.

  “Would you like to come?” I asked and immediately regretted it. I was going to scare the guy away. But Douglas grinned, raising my hand to his lips.

  “I would love to,” he said.

  I smiled, but a nervous dread filled me. Were we moving too fast?

  But I squashed the feeling. The sooner I visited new places with someone else, the sooner the memories I had with Marcus would fade. It was definitely time to create some new memories.

  I leaned forward to capture Douglas’s lips in a kiss.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Getting Out of Dodge

  As I packed super warm clothes for the ski trip I was being pressured into, I decided to make the best of it. A vacation was really just a way to escape from reality, albeit temporarily. In fact, I should have taken a mini vacation following my jilting.

  I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand, struggling to zip shut my duffel bag. Douglas was on his way over, and even though I still had some misgivings about taking a vacation with him so soon, I was glad to have someone to keep me company while I watched Mom attempt to not think about Dad’s wedding by making out with the Zygote.

  As if on cue, Douglas called.

  “Hi,” I answered, zipping up my duffel bag. “Are you downstairs?”

  “You’re going to hate me,” Douglas said. “But I got stuck here at work with an emergency account that has to be taken care of right away. I won’t be able to get away at all for the weekend. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

  “Not your fault,” I said, surprised at what little disappointment I felt. “I’ll spend the weekend in the lodge, avoiding the cold and the slopes.”

  “Have fun, love. Give your Mum my regrets.”

  I hung up, stiffening when I felt a presence behind me. I turned to find Liz standing by my doorway. We hadn’t said a word to each other since the fight. There’d been a lot of gesturing, nodding, and grunting over the past few days. We were on the verge of learning sign language to communicate.

  “You’re going skiing for the weekend?” Liz asked stiffly.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t going to leave without saying something. I was going to leave a note.”

  “Well … have fun,” Liz said, turning to leave before I could respond.

  I started to go after her to apologize because I hated things being so strained between us. And then I stopped myself. Why should I apologize? She was the one who cheated and lied to me about it. I could learn sign language if I had to.

  A half hour later I was stuck in the back of Laurence’s rental car, next to all the ski equipment. Mom and Laurence were in the front seat. Laurence’s arm was slung around her, and Mom’s head rested snugly on his shoulder. I had no idea how they were going to drive safely to upstate New York in that position.

  “It’s probably better that Douglas couldn’t come,” Mom said, sighing with content as Laurence placed a loving kiss on her cheek. “We wouldn’t have had room for him with all the equipment. It’s good for you to have some alone time.”

  “True,” I responded, gritting my teeth as Laurence placed yet another loving kiss on Mom’s cheek. Was all the PDA really necessary? “I hope you’re keeping your eyes on the road, Laurence.”

  “Adrian,” Mom chided, but Laurence only laughed.

  “It’s just hard for me to concentrate while I’m sitting next to such a beautiful woman,” Laurence replied, beaming at Mom.

  “Oh, Laurence.”

  I didn’t even try to hide my eye roll. This was going to be a long road trip indeed.

  And it was. I’d been so preoccupied by the Liz situation that I forgot to fully charge my phone prior to the trip. So I was forced to listen as Laurence and Mom sang along to every single song that came on the radio. Dear God, it’s a beautiful song but I never want to hear Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely” again for the rest of my life. They even urged me to sing along to some of the songs with them, prompting me to glare at them in the rearview mirror.

  When we reached the ski lodge, I stumbled out of the car to stretch my aching joints. I sneaked a peek into the car, where Mom and Laurence were necking. Gross, gross, gross. I stepped away from the car, wondering if this trip could get any worse. And as soon as I had that thought, things did get worse.

  I looked over at the ski lodge, and to my astonishment I saw Jackson emerging from the front door. He looked as handsome and put together as ever, decked out in a snazzy ski outfit. He spotted me at
the same time I spotted him, looking just as surprised. He made his way over to me with his signature lazy grin.

  “You really can’t bear to be out of my presence, can you, Adrian?” he asked, stopping in front of me.

  “Mom dragged me along to go skiing with her and Laurence. What are you doing up here?” I asked, taking a step back from his unnerving closeness.

  “A couple of Laurence’s friends invited me up.”

  “Jackson Taylor!” Laurence’s thrilled voice interrupted us.

  Laurence rushed forward, throwing his arms around Jackson in a bear hug. I stifled an annoyed groan. I still didn’t understand Laurence’s man crush on Jackson.

  “Jackson! We had no idea you would be here!” Mom cooed, just as delighted. She emerged from the car, looking flushed from Laurence’s kisses. She stepped forward to embrace Jackson. “I mean, Laurence mentioned that you might come, but this is such a surprise!”

  I gave Mom a look. Of course she knew Jackson would be here, and she just hadn’t thought to tell me.

  “I’m always down for a mini vacation. Thanks for the invite,” Jackson said, his amused gaze sliding back to me. I had to give it to him. He didn’t seem to take Mom and Laurence’s blatant adoration too seriously.

  “What are you doing later? Once we get settled in we’re going to have dinner. Would you like to join us?” Mom asked in a rush.

  “Mom, I’m sure Jackson has plans.”

  “Actually—” Jackson began.

  “Jackson!” a ticked-off female voice shouted.

  We all turned. I felt a strong combination of dread and annoyance. Just Katerina hovered by the entrance of the ski lodge, inexplicably dressed in fake mink and stiletto boots. Stilettos in at least three feet of snow.

  “My bags. I really need your help.” She pouted.

  “You brought Just Katerina?” I asked before I could stop myself. Jackson scrutinized me for a long moment.

  “Of course. She is my girlfriend,” he said, and I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. “Where’s your rebound?”