“So what are you going to do?”
“Rehab?”
She laughed.
“I’m serious. You guys could do a Jackson intervention for me.”
She kept stroking my hair. “If I thought it would work, I would. Maybe you should give him another chance.”
I bolted up and ran my fingers through my messy hair. “You started me on the ninety-day plan. You’re supposed to be my voice of reason.”
“It’s clearly not working. You’re in love with him as much as you ever were. And I think he is, too.” She reached for her phone near the polished off cake. She pulled up a picture and caption on Jackson’s Facebook page and held it up so I could see it.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at a picture he had taken, unbeknownst to me, at the concert. There I was, in all my rocker chick glory, dancing like no one was watching. His caption read, There are many women in the world, but no one like her. She is as beautiful inside as she is on the outside. Happy birthday, PB. Thanks for sharing yourself with me. I love you. I leaned back against the couch and curled up like a child. “Why does he have to be so sweet? It’s really ticking me off.” I wiped my eyes.
She leaned back, too, and smiled. “To love isn’t a sign of weakness.”
“This isn’t the time for you to be smart.”
“I’m going to be here for you, no matter what you decide. And if Jackson is your choice, I’ll support that. If you want to roll his dad’s house, I’m here for that, too.”
I grinned. “Thanks for being my girl.”
“Forever.”
Dear Mr. Bingley,
Jackson has taken a play from your book. You gentleman of fortune are the worst, and kind of the best. I’m still no Jane. I’m not ready to accept his proposal quite yet. No, he hasn’t proposed marriage, just being together for the rest of our lives. But, is he his own man? Were you? I mean, Darcy persuaded you on both accounts, first to leave and then to follow your heart. What kind of sway does Jackson’s father have? I know he isn’t rooting for a reconciliation. If anything, I’m sure he’s doing his best to make sure that doesn’t happen. Your story ended before we knew if your sisters sabotaged your marriage or if you grew indifferent.
How can I know that what he’s saying now is true when I thought what we had before was unbreakable?
What is real?
Presley
Day Sixty-Three
Monday, September 27
The final week of first quarter. It felt like the longest nine weeks of my life. At least next week was fall break. I needed a break from life. I was so confused, I didn’t know whether to be the lion or the kitten, although the lion in me seemed to be cozying up to the kitten. The kitten was cute.
This was going to be a crazy week, too. It was homecoming and I had to get grades turned in for report cards. Yay me. Administration also encouraged the teachers to dress up for spirit week along with the kids. First up was patriotic day. Easy enough. I threw on my “Born in the USA” t-shirt with some great fitting jeans. What did Jackson say over the summer when he picked me up and I was wearing that shirt? God Bless America? I gave up trying not to think about him. I smiled at the memory of the long kiss. I missed his lips.
I had a surprise visit from Mr. Crandall first thing Monday morning. I had forgotten his promise since I was so preoccupied with my own problem.
“You aren’t walking the stage this morning?” I looked up from my online gradebook.
He walked in, ashen faced.
“Are you okay?” I began to stand up.
He motioned for me to sit back down. “I’m fine, dear. I did as promised, but I haven’t heard back from Connie.” The emotion he felt for her was clear when he said her name.
I sat up, eager to get the skinny. “When did you send the message and what did you say?”
He took a seat in front of my desk and wiped a drop of sweat off his brow. “Late last night. I wrote twenty versions of my letter to her.”
I grinned. “That’s sweet.”
“I’m not sure she will think so after all these years. I don’t grovel well.”
“I bet it was poetic.”
“You give me too much credit, dear. It was basically me rambling on about my insecurities from many decades ago.”
“Again, I’m sure it was great. I wouldn’t worry that she hasn’t contacted you yet. It took her weeks to get back to me and it’s a lot for her to take in. I know it would be for me.”
A light came on in his eyes. “Ah, yes. I befriended our vice principal on Facebook and saw his birthday tribute to you. You looked stunning, by the way.”
I waved him off. “Thank you. Everyone looks good in flashing lights.”
He laughed. “Tell me how you’re feeling about our new administrator.”
I leaned on my hand and sighed. “Tired. I’m not sure what I should do.”
He stood up. “I have no doubt you’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I asked him to help with the drama department homecoming float for the parade this week.”
I shook my head at him. “Of course you did. I’m onto you, you know.”
He chuckled his way out of my room.
As soon as he left, the man causing all the angst in my life popped his head in. “Hey.”
I smiled up at him. He was dressed normally, in a suit and tie.
“I just wanted to let you know that I have meetings at central office today, so we can’t have lunch together.”
“I didn’t remember that we were.”
He grinned and walked toward my desk. “You should probably pencil me in for the rest of the week.”
“I never said we were getting back together.”
“But you never said we weren’t.”
“I could fix that.”
A sly grin grew on his handsome face. “You could, but I know you still love me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Have a good day, Mr. Montgomery.”
“You too, Ms. Benson. I’ll see you after school. I’ll be the hot guy in the tool belt.”
I tried and failed at not smiling at him.
“I love your smile. I’ll see you later.” He strutted out my door.
I felt like menopause had struck by the time he walked out my door. I conceded. Ninety days was not enough. I’m not sure a lifetime was. I was grateful my students started filing in. I took some deep breaths and did my job.
~*~
The end of the school day rolled around way too fast. I knew the more I interacted with him, the quicker I would have to make a decision. And I knew the effect he had on me. I had spent the last year of my life loving this man.
I met my students in the parking lot where a parent was kind enough to lend us a flatbed trailer. There were a dozen other groups out there doing the same thing. Mr. Crandall was there with his nephew, Kaine, which shocked the heck out of me.
Mr. Crandall pulled me aside. “I should have warned you. It appears Kaine’s fiancée has had third thoughts. And his previous employer wasn’t keen on re-hiring him. I felt sorry for the poor louse and let him use my guest bedroom again. I warned him to stay away from you.”
By his reddened face and ducking behind some plywood, I didn’t think that was going to be an issue. It was weird how unattractive he had become in my eyes. “He doesn’t bother me. Thanks to you, I have someone else to worry about.”
He gave me a little wink. “I’m just returning the favor.”
I gave him an impish grin before walking away to work on the lettering. The students decided to go with a “Hollywood” theme, so I was helping to replicate the famous Hollywood sign above Los Angeles.
My helpers left, though, when Jackson showed up with pizza. He was a show off. I ignored him and kept drawing out the letters to be cut out. But he wasn’t going to let me get away with that. He sat right next to me on the tarp, looking sexy in his work clothes. What was it about a man dressed to do manual labor? He came bearing my favorite pizza, barbecue chicken. He opened the b
ox once he was settled in nice and close. His grin said how pleased he was with himself.
“I can’t be bribed with pizza.”
He took out a slice and teased me with it. Inching it toward my mouth with a come-kiss-me grin.
“There are students watching.”
“It’s after school and we’re in love.”
“You know love doesn’t solve everything.”
The pizza dropped along with his smile. “You’re right, but in this case love will prevail.” He shoved the pizza in my mouth.
I was caught off guard and I’m sure I looked like an idiot trying to bite off such a large piece. But it was like heaven in my mouth. I brought my hand up and tried to get the bite down without opening my mouth.
Jackson got a good laugh out of it.
I swallowed and swiped the piece of pizza from him.
He kissed the side of my head before getting up. “I’ll be right back with a bottle of water for you.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than food and water to win me over,” I called out after him.
“Believe me, I know.”
I looked up to see a group of girls giggling and blushing. They all gathered around me once Jackson was nowhere to be seen. “OMG, you guys are so cute,” they rang in chorus.
“I want a boyfriend like him.”
I wanted to tell her she didn’t, but actually, she did. Every girl needed a Jackson in her life. They all needed to see how a girl should be properly treated, again, minus the whole break-up incident.
I smiled at them and devoured my pizza. Sixty-three days and look where I was at.
Day Sixty-Four
Tuesday, September 28
I was woken up by a text.
Good morning, beautiful. I hope you haven’t blocked me again. I’ve been patiently waiting to text you. By the way, I saved some of your favorite pizza for lunch today, so you don’t have to pack a lunch.
I held the phone to my heart. I missed this. But I was trying so hard to be rational, even though Miss Liliana was calling and leaving me messages every other hour about the saintly attributes her errant grandson possessed. She was begging me to have Sunday dinner with them all. I wasn’t going there. His dad was a major cause of concern. Besides, I felt like Jackson was keeping something from me. He’d had to leave abruptly last night. He got a text and he was off with no explanation; he hardly said goodbye. Regardless, I texted back. I could be having lunch with Kaine, for all you know.
Kaine? The guy that ignored you and cried all night on the phone when he took you out?
Are you saying you wouldn’t cry over me?
Who says I haven’t?
Have you?
He took a few minutes to answer. On a few occasions. I’ll see you soon.
Was he embarrassed by that? He probably was, considering who his father was. It was a shame, because I thought it showed strength.
I got up excited, not to see Jackson—okay maybe—but I got to dress like Marilyn Monroe for the day. Today’s theme was dress like your favorite movie star. It was between her and Audrey Hepburn for me. I donned the classic black turtle neck and ankle pants. I had this fantastic Marilyn wig that looked like real hair, paired with some amazing red lipstick. I was just going to say, I was looking hot. And I began to wonder if blondes really did have more fun. Capri thought so.
I scooted my blonde attitude to school.
Jackson was waiting for me in the parking lot dressed like James Dean. Be still, my beating heart. It was tragic Marilyn and Dean never starred in a movie together. Talk about sizzling.
Jackson’s slicked back hair with his red jacket, were giving me some serious hot flashes. The fact that I didn’t attack him right there was a miracle.
I walked away from him. Lots of self-control.
He grabbed my hand. “Not so fast, Marilyn.” He spun me toward him and perused me slowly. His eyes were hungry, but again, they looked worn. “You look too good for school. Let’s play hooky.”
“Not a chance, buddy.”
He pulled me closer.
I pushed back. “We’re at school.”
He wasn’t letting go. “We aren’t doing anything against the rules.”
“Jackson.”
He grinned. “I’ve missed that name.” He pulled me a tad closer. “I still have that blowup pool you got me on my birthday. Remember that?”
I thought about that day back in May. We had planned on going to the beach for the day, but the weather wasn’t our friend. So, I bought one of those kiddie pools and set it up in his backyard along with a sandbox, though the sandbox never got any use. I bit my lip. How could I forget?
“As a kid, I never had so much fun in a pool,” he whispered in my ear. His breath was warm and I felt feverish thinking about that most magical day. “Let’s make use of it tonight.”
I stepped back. “Where?”
“Your place.”
“In my apartment?”
“Okay. Nana’s. She won’t mind lending us her backyard.”
“Why not your place?”
“Presley.” He tried drawing me in.
“I need to get to work.” I turned from him.
He followed alongside of me. “It’s complicated.”
“There’s nothing complicated about it. Your dad hates me.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“So he wasn’t one of the reasons you broke up with me?”
He took my hand. “Please stop.”
I stood firm and held my ground. I stared into his troubled brown eyes. He looked like he was burning the candle at both ends.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Enlighten me.”
He sighed deeply. “I want to . . .”
I raised my eyebrows waiting for his response.
“But I can’t right now.”
I pulled away. “Then no pool dates, or any dates for that matter. How do you expect us to be together if you can’t be honest with me?”
“Could you please trust me?”
“You don’t have the right to ask that anymore.”
He hung his head and I walked away. It didn’t look like Marilyn and Dean would ever get together.
Day Sixty-Five
Wednesday, September 29
I stretched in my bed, prolonging getting up. It wasn’t like me, but I didn’t want to face Jackson. Maybe he was right. It was complicated, at least my feelings for him were. How can you hate and love someone so much at the same time? And it would help if he wasn’t a decent guy. I kept running the conversation he had with Leland last night while we worked on the float in my mind. He didn’t realize I was privy to their private talk. Leland was asking for advice on how to ask Harper to the homecoming dance Saturday night. Jackson gently reprimanded him for not having asked already. He said, “You shouldn’t keep her guessing about how you feel; you’re lucky she doesn’t have a date yet.”
“I know,” Leland responded, “But sometimes I’m not sure how she feels about me.”
“You have to be man enough to own your own feelings. There is risk involved, but I’ve learned that a woman isn’t going to give you her heart until she knows exactly where yours lay.” Jackson paused like it was an epiphany to him as well. “We owe that to them. So, don’t keep her waiting. It doesn’t matter how you ask, just be sincere about it when you do.”
“Are you going to ask Ms. Benson?”
My ears perked up.
Jackson slapped Leland on the back. “I’m afraid I haven’t done a good job of showing Ms. Benson how I really feel about her.” He sounded spent.
“Maybe you still can.” Leland headed toward Harper.
Within minutes, there were squeals of delight.
I took a deep breath and wished for the simplicity of my high school years.
As I lay in bed, Leland’s words rang in my head, “Maybe you still can.” Were we past the point of no return? Could I ever trust Jackson with my heart again? Why couldn’t h
e just be honest with me? Sixty-five days later and I was as confused as ever.
Day Sixty-Seven
Friday, October 1
Dear Mr. Bingley,
It’s October. This was the month I was supposed to be over Jackson. Ninety days, what a joke. Maybe like ninety years. At least I’ll be dead by then. Then it won’t kill me when I turn him down when he asks me to do things like ride in the convertible with him during the parade and toss candy to the crowd. His tired and disappointed eyes torture me. What does he expect from me? I can’t pretend to be something we’re not, something I wish we were. Something I thought we used to be.
You know what homecoming weekend meant to me last year. This year, it marks a year since we became an official couple. Last year when he asked me if I wanted to get a drink after the dance, I didn’t realize saying yes meant a six pack of Coke on the tailgate of his truck in the middle of a cotton field. I didn’t know it would mean staying up all night talking and then watching the sun rise in his arms.
I want all that back.
But how?
Please tell me how,
Presley
Teaching was almost pointless. Everyone’s mind was on homecoming and then fall break. The game was tonight and the dance was tomorrow. For most of my classes, I ended up giving hair and makeup tips to the girls. I even showed the girls and boys some dance moves and begged them not to bump and grind. Ever.
Harper was particularly excited. I overheard her talking to her friends. She was hoping Leland would kiss her this weekend so their first kiss wouldn’t be on stage. I couldn’t blame her. I remembered last year at this time hoping I would get kissed, too, even though our first kiss had been on stage.
I was still wishing to get kissed.
I didn’t see the man who I wanted to kiss me until my lunch time. He was looking extra fine in his cowboy boots and hat for cowboy and cowgirl day. Like menopausal hot flash good.
How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days Page 18
