by Jessica Marx
I hail a cab and take the short ride back to my building. I should be able to get some sleep now. I’m going to arrange a meeting first thing so it’s done. I’ll also make it a point to speak to my father sometime today so we can hash out our own differences before the four of us are together.
When we arrive at my building, I exit the taxi and pay the driver. I enter the lobby and wave to the doorman as I walk toward the elevator. When the doors open, I step in and immediately envision me and Ashley embracing in an intense kiss and smile. I wanted to tell her I love her tonight, but it wasn’t right. I don’t want it to be after sex when she might think it’s a fleeting emotion. I need her to know it’s real.
The doors open when we arrive at the eighteenth floor and I step out. I unlock the door to my apartment, and for the first time ever, it feels empty. I don’t want to sleep alone. I no longer feel complete without Ashley by my side.
22
ASHLEY
* * *
I sleep in late on Monday morning. I still have plenty of time to get ready for work, but most people have already started their day at this point. I laze around in my bed until I feel completely awake and then get up. I brush my teeth and wash my face and then head into the kitchen.
I set the coffee to brew and pick up my phone while I wait. I have several missed texts. So many thoughts to wake up to. I pour my coffee into a mug and add some milk. I sit at the counter with my coffee and the phone and reply to everyone.
There are a couple from my mother: I will see you at lunch on Tuesday, she wrote. Not sure if you know already but thought I would tell you. I reply to hers first.
Hey, Mom. See you on Tuesday. Enough said. I don’t need to expand. There is nothing much to say until after we see each other, otherwise we’ll just be walking on eggshells.
Then there are a few messages from Jayson. He greets me first: Good morning, beautiful. Then: Spoke to Tom and Cynthia. Lunch at my place on Tuesday. You should tell your mother even though I’m sure my father did already.
I answer Jayson: Good morning. Can’t wait for our lunch date. I bet it will be a lot of fun. What should I bring? I’m sure he can sense my sarcasm even through the text.
There is one from Rachel: On my way to the studio. Big fan of Jayson. So much better than I thought. I reply with, Glad you like him. It wouldn’t be right if you didn’t. XO.
And one more random text from my brother, Eric: Heard the news. Thanks for your help in maintaining my “favorite child” status. I laugh out loud to that one.
Fuck you, I write back and add a smiley face after.
I am halfway through my coffee when I get a response from Jayson: Just bring a smile and that hot ass.
I respond: I usually don’t go anywhere without it. Going to work soon—talk later.
I put my phone down, I don’t feel like messaging right now. I want to sit in peace with my coffee and enjoy it this morning. Last night was amazing, again. I don’t know how I became so bold—I’m usually very submissive. Jayson just makes me feel sexy and beautiful, happy and full of life. He excites me and stimulates me, and even when I thought I was in love before, it didn’t feel like this. I want to please him. I want him to love me as much as I love him—or more.
I rinse my mug in the sink and get myself ready for work. I take a long, hot shower. That always helps to calm me and clear my head before I start my day. As I towel off, I’m reminded of Jayson and I last night and smile. I do my hair and makeup, put on my uniform, and collect my things so I can leave. I’m happy to be working a double today so I don’t have time to sit around and think about lunch tomorrow.
On one hand, I’m glad Jayson chose his apartment so we can speak openly amongst ourselves. On the other, maybe a public place would have been better so we would have to keep everything under control. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. At least I’ll have Jayson by my side.
The restaurant isn’t that busy today. Mondays are usually the slowest day of the week. I ease through lunch, happily serving my tables. Regardless of what lies ahead, last night put me in a great mood.
When the lunch crowd dies out and my section is ready for dinner, I step outside to have a drink and a small meal. I pick up my phone to see if there were any responses to the messages I sent earlier. As I expected, there is a message from Jayson.
Wanna sleep over tonight? he asks. A broad smile crosses my lips. I enjoy his sense of humor.
As much as I do want to, I am going to decline. I don’t want my mother showing up thinking I just want to shack up with this guy. Or worse, that he is keeping his young lover at home to satisfy all of his needs. Maybe she won’t think anything, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.
I would love to, but not tonight, I reply.
Too bad. Maybe another night? Please?
Any other night, I answer. Talk later.
I finish my food and go back inside. I chat with a couple of the other servers since we don’t have any customers yet. We all get along well, but I just don’t choose to hang out with my coworkers outside of work.
A few diners enter and we get back to work. It gets somewhat busier as the night goes on so time passes fairly quickly and before I know it, I only have one table left. I finish the rest of my side work and collect their check so I can close out and go home. When everything is done, I say my good byes and head out.
I call Jayson on my way home since it’s not too late. He answers after a couple of rings, fills me in on his conversation with Tom, and assures me that everything will be fine. Tom is secure with Jayson’s feelings for me and trusts that he is not using me. Of course, he will defend his son’s character if that is an issue, but he wanted to be sure.
He also doesn’t think our future relation as stepsiblings is an issue at all. I’m happy to hear all of this and know my mother will have to listen to reason, especially if it’s coming from the man she loves.
I explain my reasons for not wanting to spend the night. Jayson says he understands, but thinks it’s silly. I assure him we will have many sleepovers in the future. Our conversation lasts for my entire walk home. As much as I dislike talking while I walk, it did make the trip go much faster.
Jayson stays on the phone until I’m in my apartment to make sure I get home safe. He wishes me sweet dreams, just as he has every night since we’ve been together.
I’m tired and don’t really have anything to do, so I get undressed and showered and ready for bed. Tomorrow is going to be pretty stressful, so I might as well get a good night’s sleep. I’m sure by the time we’re through there will be a happy ending, but getting to that point is going to be extremely tense.
23
ASHLEY
* * *
I slept terribly, waking ever hour or so, likely because of my nerves. My mother and I haven’t had too many disagreements, and this is a big one.
After my father left, she and I became much closer and she spoke to me like her friend as well as her daughter. She can be opinionated and stubborn, but she has always supported me. Even at times when she didn’t agree with what I was doing, she still encouraged me.
This situation is completely different, though. Mom thinks she is looking out for my best interests, but she’s not looking at the whole picture. She’s also projecting all the hurt and fear from her own failed marriage onto my relationship. I hope there is a way to make her see that Jayson and my father are not the same.
I take my time getting out of bed and after a horrible night’s sleep, I decide to brew some coffee before anything else. I hang around the kitchen, sipping from my mug and flipping through a magazine. I don’t bother checking if I have any messages, because I don’t feel like dealing with anyone this morning, anyway.
When I’m finished I make my way to the bathroom for a nice long shower. I dress and put on some makeup. I second-guess the mascara, knowing there might be some tears, but I apply it anyway. I want to look and feel my best when I see my mother.
After I finish I
go to check my messages. There is only one from Jayson, asking what time I plan on getting there. I’m ready now, but I don’t know if he’s at work today or just home waiting for us, so I reply to his text.
What time would you like me there?
I’m on my way back there now from my office. I can pick you up, he offers.
Perfect. How long?
Be there in twenty.
K. See you then.
I put on some jewelry and collect my things so I can leave. I lock the door on the way out and go down to the lobby to wait for Jayson.
Just about twenty minutes after his text, I notice a black town car pulling up and smile. Only one day has passed since we’ve seen each other, but it feels like so much longer. The car stops at my entrance and Jayson steps out of the back.
As usual. he looks amazing. Today he’s wearing gray slacks and a white button-down top. It’s similar to his usual outfit, but more official-looking for the office, I suppose. His hair is perfectly groomed and his eyes are shaded by dark sunglasses. A huge smile crosses his lips when he sees me on the sidewalk.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Hello, handsome,” I reply, stepping toward him. He reaches out a hand and takes one of mine, pulling me closer to him. He gives me a soft kiss.
“I missed you,” he says.
I smile. “I missed you, too.”
Jayson holds the door open and I get into the back of the car. He follows behind me and the car starts making its way toward his building.
“So, are you ready?” he asks.
“Yes. And no. I don’t know,” I sigh.
“Well, it doesn’t matter much, because it’s happening whether you’re ready or not.”
“True. I’m ready. I just don’t want to fight. I wish my mother wasn’t making such a big deal out of everything.”
“Me too, but she is. Don’t worry, we’ll all be best friends by the time lunch is over,” he assures me with a smile.
“We’ll see,” I mutter in reply.
“Come on, Ashley. Just think positive,” Jayson says as we pull up to his building.
We get out of the car and walk through the lobby. Seconds after we enter Jayson’s apartment, the intercom rings. Fortunately, it’s just the lunch delivery. I’m not ready for Tom and my mother yet.
Jayson lets the two delivery guys from the gourmet sandwich shop down the block inside. They don’t just leave the food—they set up a small buffet on the kitchen island counter. Much different than the kind of food deliveries I’m used to.
“Wow, fancy,” I comment after they leave.
“Only the best for the best,” Jayson replies. “How about a little wine before the parents arrive?” Now that’s an offer I’ll happily accept.
He removes a bottle of white wine from the wine cooler under the counter. He pours each of us a glass and raises his to toast.
“Here’s to a bright future and a happy future stepmother and mother-in-law,” Jayson jokes.
“Ha. Ha. Can you not refer to her as that from now on? And who says she’s going to be your mother-in-law, anyway?”
“She will be. You’re mine, remember? You have no choice now,” he teases me. I laugh in response.
“You’re crazy,” I reply.
The intercom rings again and I know this time it has to be my mother and Tom. Jayson answers, and when he hangs up, he walks back over to me. He holds my chin in his hand and tilts my head up so we are looking into each other’s eyes.
“Don’t worry. We got this,” he says quietly.
Jayson kisses me on the lips for assurance. Even though it’s just a short kiss, it feels soft and sweet and full of love. He backs up and holds his palm up, waiting for a high-five.
“Let’s do this!” he says, switching gears to lighten the mood and making me laugh again.
I high-five him and he walks to the door to open it for our awaiting guests. I hear the ding of the elevator and the sound of Mom and Tom coming out of the elevator toward Jayson’s apartment. This is it.
“Hey, Dad! Hello, Cynthia,” Jayson greets them. He shakes his father’s hand and gives my mother a hug as they come in the door.
I’m a few feet behind Jayson. I put on my best smile and greet them next.
“Hi, Tom. Hey, Mom,” I say, giving each of them a hug.
“You look so pretty, Ashley,” my mother says after taking a step back.
“Thanks,” I reply. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.
We all find our way to the kitchen island. Jayson pours another two glasses of wine and hands them to Tom and Cynthia. We are awkwardly standing around, trying to get comfortable with each other. We all know why we are here, but I don’t think anyone wants to dive into a serious discussion.
Jayson takes a seat on a stool and helps himself to cheese and crackers. We all follow suit, picking on a couple of the appetizers from the small spread.
We make some small talk and try to ease the tension. It seems to work as we are all comfortably talking to each other about anything other than the topic at hand. Then Tom decides it’s time to get down to business.
“Well, I don’t know where to start, but let’s get this over with so we can sit down and eat some lunch. It looks delicious.”
“Way to be subtle, Dad,” Jayson says with a chuckle.
“You should know how I operate by now,” Tom replies. “As we’re obviously all aware, I’ve asked Cynthia to be my bride. And for some crazy reason, she said yes,” he continues, looking at my mother with reverence. “We don’t want to begin our new life together with any unnecessary strain or hard feelings. So I would like everyone to just lay it all out on the table. Let’s just say whatever it is that is on our minds so we can address it and move on.”
Jayson takes a sip of his drink and replies first. “I don’t think there’s too much to say. Ashley and I are dating. We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. It’s an unfortunate coincidence that our parents are marrying each other, but we’re adults and it really shouldn’t make a difference.”
“It is an unfortunate coincidence,” my mother replies. “I don’t think dating someone that you will be considered related to is appropriate.”
“I don’t think it matters. We are adults, not children. We also won’t all be living together under one roof. It’s not like we grew up together, or anything. The fact that you and my father will be married is only a technicality,” Jayson retorts and sips his wine again.
“It’s just not right. Would I call you my stepson, or my daughter’s boyfriend? Or God forbid, both?” she says sarcastically.
“Really, Mom? Why does it matter? Call him whatever you want. What’s the difference?” I chime in.
“It just doesn’t make sense. How many people do you know who date their relatives?” she answers.
“He’s not my relative!” I hiss. “So he’ll be my stepbrother. So what? All you care about is what other people think. You don’t even have a real reason.”
“I will always support you, Cynthia, but I have to agree on this point. They’re grown and can make their own choices. Our relationship shouldn’t and doesn’t make a difference in theirs,” Tom agrees. I silently cheer.
“I’m not going to fight about it, Tom. Maybe it’s just my own opinion or insecurities about what people think, but I can’t help how I feel,” my mom concedes. “If it weren’t for the age difference or Jayson’s…” She pauses, trying to think of the least offensive word. “…past, it wouldn’t concern me so much. But adding those to the equation, I just see disaster in the future. For all of us.”
“I can’t help my age,” Jayson replies calmly. “Maybe I’m immature, maybe Ashley is more mature, I don’t know. I wasn’t looking for some young girl to manipulate. We’re just attracted to each other.”
My mother snorts. “What could you possibly have in common with a college girl? You’ve been out of college for years. You’re a grown man with a career and a future. You’re an adult. Ashley stil
l doesn’t have a major and her father pays her rent.”
“I don’t care what she studies or that she can’t afford an apartment in Manhattan yet,” Jayson bites back. “Ashley is beautiful. She’s also interesting, intelligent, and funny. She makes me smile and we enjoy each other’s company. I care for her very deeply.” He’s staring at me. “Why should anything else matter?”
“How many women have you said cared for in the past? How many have you led on just to drop for the next one that comes along? How long can a girl hold your interest?” Mom snaps back.
“My past is exactly that—my past.” Jayson says more sternly. “It has no effect on my feelings for Ashley. I’ve never cared for a woman the way I care for her, nor have I pretended I did.”
“Cynthia, my son may be many things. but he has never been dishonest. I know he may not have the best reputation, but he’s a man who stands by his word. I don’t believe he would lie about his feelings or do something that he knows would jeopardize our happiness.” Tom says. I see my mother’s face soften slightly.
“My age doesn’t make a difference. You were my age when you married Dad! Jayson and I care for each other. and I’m happy. Isn’t that all that should matter?” I ask my mother.
“Yes, you’re the same age as when I married your father,” she says, “and look how well that turned out. What makes you think Jayson will be any different? You’re going to get older and he’s going to want a replacement. Just like your father.”
“Don’t compare him to Dad!” I yell. “Even if he is like my father, you loved him once, for many years. He wasn’t always the terrible person you make him out to be.” I stand up. I’m too wound up to sit down anymore. Jayson gets up and stands behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders. I see tears well in my mother’s eyes.
