How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days

by Peel, Jennifer

  That was to be determined. Not that I wanted to battle him, especially in his condition, but there was no way I was letting him come between Jackson and me again. I gave her a smile and headed toward the kitchen.

  I was pouring glasses of sweet tea when Jackson approached from behind and kissed my neck. I sighed. “I think you missed a spot.”

  “This one here?” He kissed the nape of my neck.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Anywhere else?” he whispered into my ear.

  I had to catch my breath. I turned around and caught his lips. He picked me up and I wrapped my legs and arms around him before he set me on the counter and kissed me like he meant it. His hands wove through my hair as he drew me as close as he could. He tasted of cinnamon and I savored every moment. The taste of salt hit our lips as tears streamed down my face. My emotions had overcome me.

  Jackson released my lips to peer into my eyes and wipe my cheeks with his thumb. “Did I do something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “I just didn’t ever think we would be us again.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know.”

  He hugged me tight. “I need to get Daddy to take his medicine and then check his catheter bag.”

  I cringed. “Have fun with that.”

  “Thanks.” He stepped back. “But later tonight you and I are going to pick up right here.”

  “Promise?”

  “I guarantee it.” He walked off whistling to himself with a glass of sweet tea.

  It was definitely hot in the kitchen.

  Day Seventy-Four

  Friday, October 8

  Dear Mr. Bingley,

  It has been one of the best, but most emotionally exhausting weeks of my life. They say you have to know the bitter to enjoy the sweet. I understand that now more than ever. I never knew being with Jackson could be so good, and that’s saying something. I treasure it now. Even if it means putting up with his cranky and downright rude father.

  For as sick as he is, he made sure to speak loud enough so I could hear him complain about the food I made, my clothes, my attitude, and upbringing. If you didn’t know me, you would think I was part of the Beverly Hillbilly clan. Just call me Ellie May.

  Poor Jackson feels the need to defend me, which only seems to do more harm than good. His dad usually ends up in a coughing spell and yesterday he threw enough of a fit his catheter came out. Not only was it a mess, but Jackson had to take him back to the doctor. It’s taking a toll on him, physically and emotionally.

  I’ve offered to stay away, but Jackson insists he needs me by his side. There is no other place I would rather be. Though I say that lying in my own bed away from him. Jackson has meetings today. I didn’t realize administrators didn’t get the full time off. I think there are a lot of things I didn’t or don’t realize.

  Maybe I judged your Jane too harshly. Who am I to say what she should have done? Not to say you weren’t a lucky man.

  I am lucky too,

  Presley

  I set down my journal, stretched, yawned, and decided I should get up. I couldn’t believe fall break was almost over. What a wild week it had been. I was planning on a lazy day of going over my Marilyn project and lunch with Capri. I hadn’t seen her all week. But my plans changed with a phone call.

  “Hi, handsome.”

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “That was unenthusiastic, what’s wrong?”

  He let out a huge amount of air. “Anne’s sick and I need to leave here in a half an hour. But I can’t leave him alone.”

  I tried to think of anyone but me who could help. It’s not that I wouldn’t do anything for Jackson, but I wondered if my help would be more of a hindrance considering his dad’s aversion to me. But who else could he ask, especially on such short notice? I took a deep breath. “I’ll be right over.”

  “Are you sure?” I could hear the relief in his voice.

  “No, but I’m coming anyway.”

  “I love you.”

  “And I must really love you.” I hung up and tried to pull myself together in five minutes. I threw a bag together with my makeup and other essentials before heading out the door. What was I thinking?

  It took all of ten minutes before I found myself in front of Mr. Montgomery’s house. I couldn’t call it Jackson’s, because no part of that house reflected him. And I knew he couldn’t wait to have a place of his own again. A place with me in mind.

  I mustered up my insane side and headed in.

  Jackson met me at the door with a grateful smile and a kiss. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Tell me what to do.” I kind of already knew, but I had never entered his dad’s lair before.

  “He knows you’re here, so hopefully he’ll behave. I warned him that he better, but you know how he is.”

  Yes, I did.

  “He has a recliner in his room he likes to sit in and watch TV or read. But he needs help getting up from the bed and making his way over. You need to check on him frequently, because he thinks he can do whatever he wants. I left a list of the medications and their dosage amounts and when he should take them. He’s eaten breakfast, but you’ll have to feed him lunch.” He grimaced.

  I reached for his hand. “It will be okay. Maybe.” I teased.

  He squeezed it tight. “Call me if you need anything. I’ve told central office and Dr. Walters of Daddy’s condition, so if I have to leave, they’ll understand.”

  I pulled him close. “You go do your thing. And try not to worry.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine. “Have I told you lately how amazing you are?”

  “I’m freaking amazing for doing this.”

  He chuckled and kissed my lips. “Agreed.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll be back around four and then I’m going to show you how appreciative I am.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Me either.” He headed for the door. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Have a good day.” That sounded so domestic. I was channeling my mom. I could live with that. My mom was the best.

  Now what was I supposed to do? I looked around the museum styled house that glistened unnaturally. I headed for the patient’s room and peeked inside his open door. It looked like he was sleeping. Or maybe he was faking it since he knew I was there. Either way was fine by me. I took a second longer to take in his surroundings. It looked like a stately manner kind of a room. Dark wood furniture filled the space, except for his charcoal colored recliner. The only pop of color came from some paisley patterned curtains that were shut tight. I turned to walk away, but—

  “Coming to survey what you think will be yours when I’m gone?”

  I spun back around with a smile on my face. So maybe it was an evil grin. I entered his room, if just barely. “You couldn’t pay me enough to live here.”

  “How much would it take for you to leave my son alone?”

  I took a few steps forward. Enough to see the cold calculation in his barely open eyes. “There isn’t enough money in the world.”

  “You’re not good for him.”

  “Don’t you mean good enough?”

  “Don’t tell me what I mean, young lady.”

  So, it was on. Was I terrible for arguing with a dying man? He did start it, as my students would say. I boldly took the chair by his bedside and moved it to where we could see each other clearly. I sat down, but before I could respond to him, I noticed a picture of Jackson’s mother on his nightstand. She was beautiful. Jackson and Miss Liliana had shown me pictures of her before. She had chestnut hair, like Jackson, but I never noticed before that she had green eyes like me. She was in a summer dress, sitting on a tree swing. It could have been a magazine cover. I picked up the photo, which didn’t make the dear old dad happy.

  “I didn’t give you permission to touch that.”

  I smiled up at him. “I didn’t ask.”

  His eyes opened all the way. I
felt the heat of his stare.

  I ran my fingers over the glass of the frame. “She’s beautiful. I see a lot of her in Jackson and Daniel.”

  He looked up at the tray ceiling. “No one was her equal.” It was the first nice thing I ever heard come out of his mouth.

  “You must miss her.”

  “That is none of your concern.”

  “You see, it is, because someday, whether you like it or not, we’re going to be related.”

  His head turned painfully back toward me. “You’re not good for my son.”

  “You’ve already said that. The question is why?”

  His face reddened. He didn’t like to be questioned. “Love is an Achilles heel.”

  “It makes you weak. Is that right?”

  “It has that tendency.”

  “You believe Jackson is weak? And Daniel, too?”

  “Daniel knows where he’s going in this world. And Miranda knows her place.”

  I clenched my fists. His chauvinistic attitude and ideas had no place now or ever. “So, that’s your problem with me? That I have a career?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Such as?”

  “You’re holding Jackson back from his potential. And your brazen attitude is unwelcome.”

  I set the picture of Georgia Montgomery back where it belonged. “My attitude only reflects the way you’ve treated me. I have done my best to be polite to you, but this is the twenty-first century and I refuse to be regarded as unequal because of my gender. And whether you believe it or not, Jackson is a success. There is more to life than titles and money. Your son has a gift for teaching and helping people.” I peered into his eyes.

  He lifted his head, but it expended too much energy and it fell against his pillow. “You don’t know the world.”

  “Maybe not, but this I do know, it would be a whole lot better place with more Jacksons in it than your kind.”

  “Young lady, I built a company that launched rockets and satellites that have protected and secured your way of life.”

  “For that I thank you, but your greatest accomplishment was raising a son that cares more about you than he does for his own welfare. He was willing to give up his own happiness to please the unpleasable. So what does that really say about you?”

  I never fully appreciated the phrase “if looks could kill” until that moment. I should have been dead on arrival with the hatred that ran through his eyes. But I didn’t back down. Our eyes stayed locked for what seemed like minutes. And by some miracle, the heat in his eyes dissipated little by little.

  “I only want what’s best for my son.”

  “Then we can agree on something. But you need to come to terms with the fact that you don’t know what that is.”

  “You are pertinacious, aren’t you?”

  “Something else we can agree on.” I smiled.

  “My wife was, too.”

  “You know, I think she would have liked me.”

  He narrowed his eyes before turning his head away. “She probably would have,” he muttered.

  It made me grin. “Can we at least call a truce for Jackson’s sake?”

  He turned back toward me. “I still don’t like you.”

  “Good, because I’m not very fond of you.” I smiled. And if I wasn’t mistaken his lip twitched like he might smile, too. “But that being said, I love your son and this is hard on him, you are hard on him. Use what precious time you have left to show your son how much you love him.” I stood up. “Can I get you anything?”

  He shook his head as best he could.

  “I’ll be back to check on you. Don’t try to escape.” I winked.

  He closed his eyes in dismissal.

  I took the hint, and a large breath.

  The rest of the day was not so eventful. Jackson must have texted me a dozen times to check on us. He was like the worried father of a newborn. But Mr. Montgomery took his medicine and ate the best he could. He even used his walker to get to his recliner, but I think that had more to do with the fact he didn’t want me to touch him. I didn’t mind at all.

  By the time four rolled around, I had dinner in the crockpot, Mr. Montgomery was watching some World War II documentary in his room, and I was going over my Marilyn outline in the den.

  I heard Jackson come in through the garage entrance. He headed to his dad’s room first. I heard a muffled conversation before Jackson came and found me. He stood near the French doors and grinned at me. “Daddy was almost agreeable, what did you do to him today?”

  I grinned slyly. “Nothing. I just told him he wasn’t the center of the universe.”

  Jackson shook his head. “I do love you.”

  I set down my laptop. “I’m ready for you to show me how much.”

  He was to me in a second flat. It was a gold medal moment all the way.

  Day Seventy-Seven

  Monday, October 11

  Thanks to social media and Riverton’s small town nature, everyone knew Jackson and I were back together by the time school started up again on Monday. Yep, another holiday—Columbus Day. Nothing was sacred to this school district. I braced myself for the onslaught of stares, and maybe dirty looks from the likes of Mindy and Stella. Though if I were them, I would play nice with everyone after their hiatus for anger related issues.

  As predicted, smiles and turned heads followed me into the school. I even got a thumbs up from Dr. Walters. I was glad, because I was worried about the little show we had put on at the homecoming dance.

  I headed toward the auditorium first to see how Mr. Crandall’s break was. He and his nephew Kaine had planned to work on the set, so I wanted to get a peek at that as well. I walked in to find Mr. Crandall where he always was, but there was something different about him. Instead of pacing, it was like he was waltzing to a silent tune in his head. I approached the stage to investigate. He looked like he was walking on cloud nine. Gone was his bowtie; it had been replaced by a handsome red tie. I had never seen him at school without a bowtie.

  He opened his eyes and grinned when he noticed me. “Ah, my dear.”

  “You sound chipper this morning. I take it you had a good break.”

  Always the gentleman, he reached down for my hand to help me up the stairs. “It was marvelous.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Sit, sit.” He waved.

  I did as he asked and he joined me. I was anxious to see where all his liveliness was coming from.

  He had a childlike glow to him. “I had a most interesting message from my dear Connie.”

  “Your dear Connie?” I grinned.

  “Yes, yes, dear, keep up. After a little animosity, she said she was open to more contact from me.” He was all lit up. “I seized the moment and asked for her number.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  He beamed. “We have spoken several times and we’re meeting in Atlanta this weekend. She lives in South Carolina now. It’s a halfway point.”

  “Look at you. I’m so happy for you.”

  “As I am for you.”

  My cheeks pinked. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been happier.”

  “It shows. I’m glad our new VP finally got his proverbial head out of his buttocks.”

  I held my heart and laughed. “You and me both.”

  I headed to class and met Coach, who threw decorum out the window and picked me up and swung me around. “My boy is back. PB and J are back.”

  “Don’t cry on me now.” I held onto the wall. My head was spinning from his greeting.

  “Tears of joy, baby! Now maybe we can get back to planning that engagement of yours on the field.”

  Huh? I wondered when and how Jackson was going to propose to me. I had a feeling it would be soon. I kind of hoped under the circumstances it wouldn’t be anything flashy like some halftime proposal on the field. I would take the back of his truck or the prop room. But however he did it, I knew what my answer was going to be.

  Day Ninety


  Sunday, October 24

  Dear Mr. Bingley,

  I fear I may have misjudged you. Either that or staring at the engagement ring on my finger has made me delirious. Deliriously happy, that is. You’re the first to know. It seems fitting. You have seen me through my awkward teenage years and into adulthood. I haven’t even told my parents, Capri, or Miss Liliana yet, though he did ask my dad for my hand in marriage like a gentleman should.

  I know you’re dying to know how it happened, so I will keep you in suspense no longer. Earlier this evening after we got his dad settled for the night, he took me to the den for what I thought was going to be an evening of him reading to me while I lay in his lap. It was becoming a nightly ritual. But instead of reading, he just stroked my hair and kind of chuckled to himself. I sat up, wondering what was so funny to him. You know what he said?

  “Isn’t this a special day for you?”

  I couldn’t figure out what he meant. He laughed some more.

  “Isn’t this the day you had planned to be over me?”

  Can you believe he said that to me? Me either. But as you know, I knew he knew. So I grinned and informed him he should probably make sure the next time that I really was sleeping. But, honestly, we both had a good laugh over my foolish plan. It had been doomed from the start.

  That’s okay, because he said he wanted to offer me another plan. The forever one. He reached behind the throw pillow on the couch and handed me a white box. He got down on one knee, and you know the rest. It didn’t come with any fanfare or flowery words. Just a simple I love you and please be my wife.

  It was beautiful.

  Men definitely do not suck,

  Presley

  I set my journal down and stared one more time at the gorgeous round solitaire diamond my finger wore so well. Then I stared at the man that lay asleep in my lap. I stroked his hair and smiled. Maybe I should write my own online article. How Not to Get over Your Ex. I’m expert at it, after all.

  Day One-Hundred-Forty-Three

  Wedding Day

  Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have all my sisters, my mom, Capri, and Miss Liliana help me get ready. I was being poked and prodded in places I didn’t know existed on my body. Not to mention the serious teasing that was going on with my hair. “If I look like a hooker, you’re all fired.”