Cross Your Heart (An Emerson Novel Book 2)
Page 21
Elet had exited the interstate thirty minutes ago. He had not asked any navigational advice. He had not asked the name or the location of the hotel. He had turned this way and that way. He had steered through late evening traffic. He had commanded the truck to their destination without need for conversation or direction. Jacqueline had forgotten how independent and resourceful he was. In recent years, life had changed. He was no longer a press photographer just heading to the next story. His work has been selected by the AP wire enough that he was a freelance photographer. Now, he chose jobs, subjects, and locations based upon what interested him. He had won awards and prizes. He had had layouts in national and international magazines. He had written pieces for blogs and been interviewed on podcasts. At the same time, he'd continued exploring his hobbies. He had painted, sold graphic art designs, and matted and sold photos taken while working. It had paid off. His works were being recognized by the local studios and galleries. He had an upcoming multimedia show in Miami after the wedding. He had settled into new roles that allowed him to be more artistic and, in turn, he had become communicative, more engaging. She had forgotten that this had been a transformation. That he was once more introverted and isolated, but, now, he was an artist, a businessman, and a leader.
When he parked in the hotel parking lot, he leaned forward and gazed up at the building. Unlike the oceanfront structure in Myrtle Beach, this time they sat in a parking that looked like they had stepped back in time. He admired the palatial look of the hotel. He snatched his duffel bag from the back of the truck and went toward the hotel without her. Noticing that she was being left, she jumped from the truck and trotted to catch up to him. She dared not to speak. She enjoyed that after this long journey that he was enjoying staring up at the building. When they entered the lobby, he stopped and gazed around the building's entryway. It was dramatic. With marble columns lining the path from the doors to the hotel check-in desk, the entrance spoke of grandeur. He examined the ceiling. It had to be twenty feet high, maybe higher. It was adorned with stained glass and skylights. Allowing his eyes to travel back to eye level, he walked over and touched the sculpted relief on the walls. He noticed the glints of light upon them. Searching for the source, he admired the glass chandeliers that were overhead. She did not speak nor did she follow. She waited on him to turn around to her, to remember the closeness they'd shared.
And, he did. "This wasn't some building built to be a hotel. This was something else prior." He did not say this next to her. He was standing against the wall inspecting the ferns that sat in large marble pots between the columns.
"Yep, I read it was the headquarters of a railroad company. I think it was built in the early 1900s."
"Gilded Age."
"Yeah, I think that's what it said." She knew it was the Gilded Age. She had done her research about the hotel, but she was so happy that he was talking to her that she pretended to not know.
"The time when the captains of industry and commerce went to Europe and returned home to pay homage to their wealth by rebuilding the classics of the Western cultural heritage here. American architecture changed from being simplistic to ornate. Buildings weren't just functional, they were beautiful." She twisted her lips and cocked her head as if to thank him for the information. Proud of himself, he replied, "Bachelors in Architecture."
She smiled, "I remembered. I thought that you might like this."
He returned to her, "I do. I really do, but now, I know for sure that you're trying to get with me."
He laughed and she laughed. It was nice to just have laughter between them. The day had been so long. Things felt off kilter in both their lives. A laugh numbed the pain. She checked them in and they navigated to one of the two sweeping staircases rather than taking the elevator. From there, they meandered through the hotel staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the Inner Harbor Waterfront. It was almost eight in the evening. As she passed the glimpses of the outside world, her mind traveled back and she thought she could see the gas lights that would have lined the harbor in the early twentieth century. After a few minutes, they came upon a corridor and were forced to take the elevator.
With the doors closed, she asked, "I'd like for you to meet me, and only me, back downstairs in a half hour. Will you?"
"I'm hungry. I was going to meet you anyways, but that was a really good line. You should save it for someone you've got a chance with." She laughed and the elevator doors opened. Based on the arrows, her room and his room were at opposite ends of the floor. Each turned and went in search of their room.
Having been the one to reserve the rooms, she wondered what he thought of his. Her room was not going to be a surprise. It was the Mediterranean Suite. It had rich dark colors with appropriately matching rich, dark fabrics. At almost six hundred feet, it was a huge expanse for one night, but she had wanted them to each enjoy the night. The marble bathroom had a separate walk-in shower from its soaking tub. When she opened the door, she was delighted to see clean linens and open space. She unpacked a few things and jumped in for a quick shower. Desperately, she tried to wash away all of her emotions, but they clung to her like the steam hung in the air. Looking at her clothes, dirty and blood-stained, she balled them up and placed them in the trash can. There was no need to save them, to take them home, and think that they could ever be clean again.
As she redressed, she put on a shirt that Mallory had bought for her while they were on Seaborn Island over the summer. Smiling, she sent her a text,
Jacqueline:The little stuff reminds me of you. Isn't that funny?
Mallory:No. Everything reminds me of you.
Jacqueline:Just checked into the hotel in Baltimore. Took a quick shower.
Mallory:Alone?
Jacqueline:Of course. I'm going to run downstairs and eat dinner with Elet. Then, come back up to the room and talk to you until you doze off. Okay?
Mallory:Okay, baby.
~~~~~~~~
Then, quickly, she headed downstairs to meet him, but, this time, he beat her. The bar was decorated with plush couches of different prints. The walls were adorned in sheets of gold relief. There was a fireplace flickering in the center. He sat in a dark table far off in the corner. "I'm glad you found me. I was wondering if I should text." He leaned back in his chair. "This place is amazing. My room has this dark blue blanket. It's super thick. I wanted to curl up in it and tell you I wasn't coming down."
Chuckling, she said, "Well, I didn't expect that."
"I went ahead and ordered a couple of drinks and a couple of appetizers."
"Cool." She was uncomfortable tonight. She was never uncomfortable with him, but, after everything that happened, it was to be expected. She just didn't like how it felt. She had to say something. She had to clear her mind or she was going to erupt. "Let me say something and don't interrupt me." She held her hand up as if it could stop words from coming out of his mouth. "I knew you first. You are my best friend. Now and always. And, when I'm out with Alex, I always respect your relationship. I do my best to help her steer clear of trouble, because when I am with her, I do think of you. Now, I know that last night you wondered if that was true, but it is. It really is. Your worst fears haven't been realized. It's not wild orgy where anything goes." She stopped speaking as the food and drinks came.
He was quiet for a bit as the waitress placed the food in front of them. While making himself a plate, he said, "I know. And, you are my best friend and you shouldn't have to be on watch like that. I have to trust her. I can't expect for her to travel with a guardian." He stopped talking to eat a potato skin. Chewing, he went on, "And, I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I'm sorry. I mean, I can't believe what happened today. I can't get it out of my mind." She waved him off. "Hear me out. I love her. I've loved her even when everyone tells me to break it off with her. There's no argument. They aren't changing my mind. This isn't up for a vote. Despite everything, I still want to marry her. When we're together, I feel like we're the only two people alive.
But, there's no reason to lie. When she leaves me I wonder if I'm enough, if my love's enough."
"You're more than enough. Her need for attention is just that. It has nothing to do with you."
"But, it could. It could. What if one day someone else's attention is better than mine?"
"There's no answer for that for anyone of us." She sat back in her seat and thought about what she had said. After a few minutes of silence, she elaborated, "I don't know. I guess it's a gamble. It takes constant work, constant attention, and it's still out of your control. But, when it's good, there's nothing better."
"You're probably right," he said and chomped on his jerky. "But, listen, I gotta ask you something." He wiped his hands and cleaned his face on this napkin. Then, leaning back in his chair, with his foot on her chair, he asked, "Jacqueline, what're we doing here?"
"What? I thought you liked it."
"I love the hotel, but why're we here? We left home to drive to Baltimore to pick up a wedding arch that you coulda had transported to Tampa. What are you running from?"
"I'm not running from anything."
"We've been friends for a long time. I've told you crazy shit through the years. And, you've blown me away with some of your shit. So, talk to me. What's going on? Are you over this thing with Mallory?"
"No. No, I'm not."
"Then, you're being an asshole." He removed his foot from her chair and went back to eating. "She's given up everything to be with you. She's changed her entire life. And, it can't have been easy. I mean, I don't know what it's like to have to tell your friends and family that you're in love with someone who is the same sex as you, but I damn sure know what it's like to say that you love a girl who is another race than you. I don't care what people say." There was Ranch dressing on his fingertips and he was licking it off. "It takes people some time to get used to new stuff. Even if, the new thing is something that's always all around them. My mom was always okay. Silas made it all a joke, but Reese had a hard time with it." He filled his mouth with pizza, but he went on, "Now, I know things have changed for you, too. And, it looks like you're thriving in it, but, from what I hear, your secretive shit is driving her crazy. But, I know you. There's always a plan. You're always thinking something. So, here we are. It's time to fess up. What the hell is going on?"
She took a slice of his flatbread pizza. Chewing it slowly and sipping her drink, she huffed. "Things have changed for me, too."
"I know."
"I've shared my world with them. All of it."
"It's not the penthouse or the Laredo that she wants shared with her. You keep people at arm's length. You're around them. You're in the room." He encircled the room with his greasy fingertips. "They think they know you, but there's so much about you that they've got no idea about. I don't know how I got to know as much as I do, but you better tell her something or you're gonna lose her. There's a woman and her kid waiting on you to stop fucking around."
She slammed the table, but then, spoke in an angry whispered tone, "I'm not fucking around! I'm with them every night. I haven't gone anywhere."
"Yeah, you're with them. You're with them the way you are with everyone else. You make them feel okay without really saying anything. And, when they ask you a question about something real, you clam up, make a joke, or just push away. They think it's because you don't care. Do you realize that? Do you realize that most people think that you're avoiding real shit, because you don't care?" His words stayed in the space between them. She looked at him and breathed loudly and deeply. Instantly, she discredited what he had said in her mind, then his glaring eyes kept repeating it over and over until she started to think about it. Just when she was ready to fold, he finished his thought, "And, now, you've gone and left. You've been right there with them until shit got thick. Then, you up and hauled ass. You and I left and went to Baltimore for four days," he said. "I'm not saying you don't love her. I think you do. I've never seen you this way, but what I don't understand is why don't you talk to her?"
"I dunno. It feels like...boasting." He laughed. "I'm serious. You're telling me that Alex knows all about your college years? Time in the Peace Corps? Where you went? What you've seen? She knows about field work? She knows about the photographs? The awards? The money? You've told her everything?"
Haughtily, he said, "I've told her most of it."
"Well, then, you're better than me. I haven't told her anything. I'm scared to sit down and tell her everything. I'm scared. Is that okay?
"Scared of what? Scared that she'll know you've got a mini-fortune? Scared you've got a plan for a future you could make happen?"
"Scared of plenty of stuff. People always think nothing scares me, that nothing bothers me anymore. But, that's ridiculous. Of course, I'm still scared of things, worried about things. I don't want to seem over the top. I don't want to seem like it's too much. My life is complicated."
Chuckling, he said, "Bullshit. You've lived up in that secret lair for too long by yourself. Your life isn't complicated. You've pushed everything out. Some of those girls weren't bad. You just didn't want to invest in them. And, hell, that's okay, but this girl is in. You hear me?" He smashed the tip of his pointing finger against the tabletop. "She's already in. You let her come in. You wanted her in. Your secret lair is crumbling. You can either push her out and rebuild your walls or you can open that shit up."
"It's not a secret lair," she uttered.
"Is, too. It has its own elevator. A secret elevator." He laughed. She laughed, too. "I know you have something to lose. Don't we all?" Shaking his head, he said, "I swear you've got a lot more to lose if you just watch her walk away. You've got more with her than you have ever had in your whole pathetic life." He knew when to pause and let her digest. He sat back in his chair and drank some of his beer. Peeling her back, slowly, he asked, "Does she know about your five-year plan?"
"No, does Alex know yours?"
"Can we just make it to the altar first?" He quipped. Turning his head to wipe his mouth, he glanced outside. Rain had caught up to them in Maryland. He thought of the dog. He shook his head to push the image from his mind. Looking at the falling rain, he spoke to her, "What's it, again? Hit your magical number and you disappear. Are you still going to resign? Or, did all of that change now that they've come into your life? I think you want them to be a part of your life, a part of your future. If I'm right, then she has to know what you'd like to do. You can't just plan shit in a vacuum and think she'll always be cool with it. You've gotta tell her where you want to head and see if she wants to go, too."
"What if she doesn't?"
"Then, the two of you figure it out together or you walk away from her." Jacqueline looked up at him in shock. "That looks says you don't want to lose her."
"You still nervous about Alex?" she changed the subject.
"Every day," he said quietly as he watched the rain fall.
"What are you gonna do?"
He looked at her. He cracked his own neck. He was looking at her, but looking past her. As if he was talking to himself, he whimpered, "I'm gonna have to talk to her. Just like you're gonna have to talk to Mallory."
"Then, what?" she asked him. She wanted his answer as much as she was searching for her own answer.
"Then," he took another long swig of his beer. "We," pointed to her and then back to himself, "are gonna give it every fucking thing we've got."
"And, if it doesn't work out?"
He looked around the room. He stared at the fabric lined walls. He closed his eyes and listened to the fireplace. He looked at the men and women who had filled the bar but sat quietly among themselves without intrusion. He smiled back at her and said, "If it doesn't work out, we'll relocate to Baltimore."
She smiled. Half-knowing, he was teasing, but half-calmed in the notion that he had a plan. They did not speak on the subject of relationships anymore that evening. They sat in the bar and enjoyed talking. Talking about house renovations. Talking about traveling. Talking about the hon
eymoon and the wedding gift he'd picked out for Alex. The elephant had left the room. And, life at that bar, in that moment, was fine. That was all the goodness she could desire.
Chapter 18
Elet stumbled down the hallway and back into his room. He would have passed out across the bed, but his phone beckoned. It was a text message from Reese asking how the trip was going. He had hoped it was Alex. Realizing that they'd spoken only briefly, he called her. The phone rang and rang. Waiting, he started to become angry thinking that she was not going to answer. He feared that his call would go to voicemail. It did not; right before the last ring before voicemail triggered, she answered.
"Hey, sexy," she said.
"Hey, you," Elet was tired and slightly drunk. The day was weighing on him.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Of course, I'm always okay. I'm Okay Elet. You should start calling me that."
"Sounds like someone has been drinking," she said.
"Not that much."
"Doesn't take much anymore."
He grinned, “I remember when we first met. Do you?"
"Of course, I do."
"Jacqueline and I had gone out. I had been out of town on a project. We went out to catch up. Who goes to a bar to catch up?" He posed the question, but answered before she could reply. "Stupid us. That's who. We were sitting at a bar having some food and a few drinks. What the hell was the name of that place?"