by Dela
I left Gizelle’s feeling a little more resolved, my eyes wet from the stupid movie. I walked into my house and went to the laptop sitting on the coffee table. I sat down on the couch and typed in “overseas teaching positions.” It took me a while to get through the bulk of entries on the front page, but eventually I was led to a fascinating position in Ukraine. Six months commitment was all they needed, with a chance to stay longer based on my performance. If I ended up there for bad reasons—like another bad breakup—than six months wouldn’t be long enough.
I quickly filled out the necessary online forms and hit send. A sudden pressure bubbled in my chest. I rubbed it, taking big breaths. It was here because this was it. This was Kendal’s deadline. I was doing something definitely right or terribly wrong, but either way, I was moving forward.
I decided to check in with Kendal and see how his day was going, since the last time he called was when he got back to California yesterday morning. I knew he sensed my reservation through the phone, so he told me he’d give me some space. But I felt time slipping through our hands. I needed things resolved now.
“Jessie,” he answered on the first ring.
“Hi,” I said, twiddling the wool on my wrist. I sniffed. My breathing was still ragged from that horrible movie.
“Are you crying?”
“No.” I lied.
“Why are you crying?”
“Okay I was crying, but not anymore. I was at Gizelle’s.”
“Oh hell, you guys were watching Lifetime movies.”
“How’d you know?”
“Luck.” He hesitated. “Hey, can we talk about Saturday?”
“I overreacted, Kendal. I just . . . I don’t really know.”
“And I couldn’t fix that for you when I was there?”
I chuckled. “I wish that’s all it took.”
“Well what is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Jessie . . .”
“So when exactly is your house going to be done?”
He stayed quiet a moment. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I’m putting a house warming party together for Friday. I’m inviting a few of my colleagues, investors, old buddies . . . anyways, I just wanted to make sure you’d be able to make it.”
“Sounds like a fancy party.”
“Old habit.”
I walked to my closet and moved aside one by one my old dresses. “We’re talking how fancy?”
“Suit and tie.”
“You’re throwing a cocktail house warming party?”
“You seem shocked.”
“Well a little, this is a first for me.”
“Can I buy you a dress?”
“No. You just bought me my bras . . .” I winced. “That sounded weird.”
“It sounded nice, and, by the way, you’ve yet to model them for me.”
“Uh huh,” I surmised.
He chuckled. “Oh, and my mom will be there. She’s dying to meet my one and only barf buddy.”
“Thank you, Kendal, for painting this lovely picture of me to your mom. You’re too kind.”
His laugh echoed loud over the receiver. “You make it so easy.” He muffled for a moment when I realized he was talking to his driver. “You still there?”
“Clear as day.”
“Listen. I miss you but I have to go. Can we talk when I get back to Portland? I’ll come over Thursday?”
“Thursday I tutor.”
“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday I guess.”
“Yes, Friday. Bye, Kendal.”
“Later love.”
I hated tutoring rich, spoiled teenagers. It was the same every time. Each hour was a slow, miserable hell but with different victims, different messed-up rich parents. The students were there because they were forced to learn proper grammar or else their daddy would take away their BMW, not because they wanted to learn the difference between their, there, and they’re.
When my last hour approached, I checked my phone relentlessly. It was two minutes past eight. Another eight minutes, then I’d rush to the mall to find something to wear for Kendal’s house warming. Gizelle told me to wear something modest, to distinguish myself from every other girl Kendal apparently had been with, but I also didn’t want to be the nun. I rushed into the mall with approximately thirty minutes left before closing.
I found the dress section in a larger department store and scurried the racks for a longer dress, not knowing what I was looking for. After five minutes of hangers squealing along the racks I pulled two dresses. One black with long sleeves, the other peach with ruffles at the shoulders. I ran to the dressing room and quickly undressed.
The peach dress was more my color, but it fit baggy. Plus the shoulders made me look like I had a football player’s shoulders. Pass. I slipped the black one up with a few shakes of my hips and slid my arms through the sleeves. The neckline was higher, but a deep plunge exposed my back, stopping just at the curve of my butt. It fit tight through my arms, all the way down to my knees, where it flared out subtly. I didn’t know what to do about boob support, but figured I could deal with that later. Sold.
The next day it was snowing, and not just little flurries. It was full on storming so hard I couldn’t see my car in the parking lot. I whipped out my phone and checked the weather app while cranking up the heater. I was nearly back in the bathroom to dress for school when Gizelle texted.
Kendal is in Portland at his new home now. Just left there. If you ask me, he seems love sick. He’s way touchy. I had to leave it was so bad. But don’t worry. I’ll be there tonight.
You better not leave me all alone there tonight. I know where you live.
Like you’d hurt little ol’ me. Kendal’s friends are real friendly. It won’t be a problem.
It’s a problem when I’m the one clinging on to Kendal because I don’t know anyone!
Jessie, there’ll be a lot of bachelors there. I’m sure they’ll love talking to you. It’s good. It’ll force Kendal to make a move.
That’s your plan?
Improvising. Only improvising.
I parted my hair down the middle and brushed it until the knots were gone. Then I added smoothing serum and curled the ends. I was adding dark eye makeup when my phone beeped by the sink.
You’re coming tonight, right?
Getting ready now. Will you text me your address?
I’m sending my driver. I don’t want you driving in the snow.
That’s not necessary, Kendal. I know how to drive in the snow.
I know. But will you let me do this for you? I’m looking out my windows right now. It’s getting worse. I need to get back to the caterers and I’d like to not have to worry about you arriving here safely.
Okay, then. I accept. Thank you.
He’ll be there in thirty minutes. Good?
Almost ready. Perfect.
I set the phone down and finished my look with nude lips. I picked a black shawl and draped it over my shoulders, made sure all appliances were turned off, and waited by the door, peeking out the window every minute or so.
A short, white limo appeared before long and stopped by my sidewalk. I locked my door and shuffled carefully through the snow in my heels as the driver, a short man with a stubby nose and a black suit, stood at the open door.
“Evening Miss.”
“Hi. Thanks for coming,” I said, sliding in.
He closed the door and retreated back to the driver’s seat as I looked around. It didn’t feel right being in the back of a limo by myself. The space was too big and deserved to be filled with people. I wrapped my shawl tighter around my shoulders and looked out the window as the car began to move.
I wasn’t sure how long the drive would be or even where Kendal lived. Eventually the driver hopped on the I-10 West and drove slowly with traffic against the snow for twenty minutes. He had only gone six miles before getting off and going up into the mountains on a street called Royal Boulevard. Ten minutes later he appr
oached a gate, pressed a clicker, and drove through the opening iron gates. We followed the thin black tire lines through dense trees for a while, until the woods suddenly blossomed into acres of open land.
And then I saw the bachelor’s castle.
Behind an enchanting frozen pond laid Kendal’s small resort. It seemed similar in size to some of the large Beverly Hills homes I’ve seen. I couldn’t tell, the way the end angled out, if it had another wing in the back. I admired all the stonework when suddenly I remembered Gizelle’s rants all those weeks about her feuds with the stoneworkers and Kendal. Kendal was fixated on some stone for the outside of his house that the stoneworker couldn’t get. Kendal fired him, then found another who did have it, but not enough. Eventually the stoneworker kept the job but fired Kendal, only dealing with Gizelle on the matter. Still, it looked nice.
The driver pulled underneath the vaulted driveway when the elongated front door opened. Kendal stepped out in a black suit and tie and skipped down the steps to my door. His dark hair was styled upward, the sides recently trimmed short, his scruff freshly shaved. He looked like he belonged in GQ.
“Finally,” he said.
He steadied his green eyes with mine and held his hand out. I could smell him the moment I stepped out and breathed in. I missed the musk of his natural scent. He grinned, unable to resist taking a measurable glance at me.
“You look stunning.”
I couldn’t help but blush. “Thank you. You shaved.”
He rubbed the palm of his hand along his jaw. “My barber convinced me to.”
“Your barber?”
He chuckled. “Yes, people have barbers.”
“You say it like he’s your best friend.”
“Well he sort of is. Remember Long?”
“From Whistler?”
“Yes! Paul’s his name. But I still call him Long. He’s a barber. The best damn barber, too. He’s here.”
“He is?”
He placed his hand on the small of my back. “Let’s go inside, it’s freezing. I’ll give you a tour and introduce you to everyone.”
My head spun as he led me inside a large entrance filled with people in bright attire. I never imagined when Kendal said cocktail party that there would be this much color. I imagined black and dull. Expensive, yes, but not bright. The colors were showcased in statement pieces, splashes of the rainbow in their funky ties, shiny belts, even their hair. While I counted a handful of men with different hair colors, it was the women who made the hair statement with more colors than I could have imagined. And they wore more hairstyles than I’d seen in fashion magazines. Short, long, buzzed . . . there was nothing they haven’t thought of.
There was a rounded staircase behind them with a nice wall to nestle against, but no one stood near it. Then I realized there was a long, open fireplace settled inside that must have been too hot for anyone to stay longer than a few minutes. I followed Kendal as he moved through the crowd, hurriedly snapping a picture of the ginormous fireplace and texting it to Regina.
Kendal stopped behind a tall man. He punched him lightly, causing the man to turn, confused. It was Long.
“Paul, do you remember Jessie from Whistler?”
Long steadied his tumbler with the base of his hand and squinted his eyes at me. “Jessie?”
“I was Brooke back then,” I said timidly as my phone vibrated through my purse.
His eyes popped open. “Brooke!” He bolted his gaze to Kendal. “What the hell man? You didn’t tell me you guys were together. Hell, I didn’t even know you found her!”
Kendal cleared his throat. “We’re not together, just friends.”
Excuse me? I pulled the phone quickly from my purse and perused through Regina’s response. “Do houses like that even exist?” She sent me a picture of her old brick fireplace mantle. It had been painted white to make it look new but it was cluttered with picture frames and an ugly silk plant arrangement. I let out a sharp breath, liking her mantle more because it didn’t come with a Kendal. I shoved my phone back in my purse and smiled, pretending like nothing bothered me.
“But still, man, that’s totally gnarly you guys met up again.” The stricken disbelief could not be stripped from his voice. He snickered under his breath and took a swig.
“Excuse me, please. I’m going to go find Gizelle. Long, it was nice to see you again,” I said with an unchanging, plastered smile.
I jetted out of there before Kendal’s hand could reach for me. Just friends? I pushed through a crowd of bellowing monkeys in expensive suits and dresses and found the help in the kitchen. There was a tray of flute glasses filled with champagne. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a drink. Probably college. I grabbed two anyways and chugged. I set them down and went looking throughout the house for Gizelle.
I wasn’t gone more than a minute when I turned a corner and bumped into Colby.
“Oh, Jessie!” he jumped.
“Colby? What are you doing here?”
He wiped his hands along his blazer nervously. His hair was longer, a curly shag. He never grew his hair out.
“Kendal invited me,” he answered.
“You’re friends with Kendal?”
His nose twitched. “Have you been drinking?”
“No.”
“Yes you have, I can smell it on your breath.”
It was quieter over here. I looked to the windows beyond him. From the lights inside the house reflecting off the new drift I could tell it was still snowing outside. I was glancing around, wondering where I was, when I noticed fiery red hair sitting at a table behind Colby.
“Oh,” I quickly shot my eyes to the floor. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were with Bianca.”
His eyes turned to stone, mortified. Bianca snickered in the back. “Hi Jessie.”
“Hi Bianca.”
“We’ve only just got here. Would you like to join us?”
“No, no.” Definitely not.
I turned and fled, racing back through the kitchen and exiting out another door I hadn’t gone through. It led me to a study. It was dark, but the drapes pulled back enough to let the moon cast its silver light. Cardboard boxes were piled in the corner on the floor, as if Kendal still had unpacking to do. I looked around. The white desk centered in the middle had a stack of papers on it. I walked over to them and lifted a loose sheet. It was a contract for a new store in Milan . . . expected opening date: January. I sat it down and picked up another. It was a receipt for hotel accommodations in Amsterdam for April. I picked up another. It was a fax from a warehouse in Thailand. Stapled to it were more receipts, one being a plane ticket for a flight scheduled to leave December 25th! He just got here. What would make him leave on such a day?
I set the paper down where it belonged and headed out another set of doors. I entered a dark hall and noticed stairs at the end. I approached them, slipped off my heels, lifted my dress up, and ascended quietly.
I rubbed my fingertips along the bare wall. There weren’t any frames filled with family and friends on them yet. I imagined they were still packed, but as I got to the top I didn’t notice any frames along the floor waiting to be hung. I took my eyes off the floor, searching for something else, when my heart suddenly dropped. I had entered a large, wide hall. The sides were made of windows and there was one double door standing at the end.
The patterned carpet beneath my toes subdued my steps as I walked towards the door. Halfway through, I stopped to glance outside. A tall family of trees held prisms of light against its fir from the shards of luminescence coming through my window. I pressed my fingers against the glass and looked down. Even though there was plenty of snow to make the drop seem small, I knew I was high up. The hallway suspended in the air, merely attaching the house to whatever was behind those doors.
“I found you.”
His voice was tired, like he had been rushing throughout the house trying to find me. I stayed still as he approached my side and looked through my peripheral down at his feet
. His shoes were still on.
“And you found my magical hallway of winter wonders.” He chuckled at his own joke before a seriousness consumed him. “Where did you go?”
“I’m sorry.” I glanced back up to outside, to the dark and whiteness, anywhere but his swallowing eyes.
“Is everything okay?”
“You invited Colby?”
“Jessie, come on.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to figure out who you’re better friends with.”
“Is that why you’re so upset? What I said to Long downstairs?” His hands enveloped mine. “Hon, I only said that because I thought that’s what you wanted. I don’t want to be just friends. I want you mine.”
I turned my body toward him and folded my arms. “So what are we doing then?”
He stepped closer so that our hips touched and gazed down with that stupid seductive smile. “What do you want to be doing?”
My heart raced so fast it hurt. I blinked a thousand times, picturing me admitting I wanted us for forever. But I couldn’t bring myself to be that ridiculous. This was Kendal, the world-renowned bachelor. I would settle for going steady.
“I want us. And I want to be with you, but it’s just hard to imagine you with so many girls. I need a relationship that isn’t just physical. How else would I know that it’s real? I mean, I want to be physical with you . . . very badly . . . I’d like too . . . maybe too much . . . I . . .”
“First off.” He held up a finger. “I always imagined they were you; they meant nothing to me. Second, my feelings for you are like none other. Third, I want that too.” Then he paused and smiled slyly. “So you want to set some ground rules tonight, Jessie—my girlfriend?”
My body froze as he stepped closer and cupped my cheeks. The palms of his hands were so warm my heart nearly stopped.
