Brief Encounters_The Encounters Series

by Scarlett Hopper

  “I need Winona’s number.” I spit the words out quickly so I don’t have time to change my mind. The smile that was previously on Viv’s face is gone in an instant, and a look of confusion takes its place.

  “Why?” Viv asks cautiously, clearly confused as to why I would want the number of the girl I’ve been avoiding for the past five years.

  I take a deep breath, collapsing onto our green velvet sofa. “I really fucked up, Viv. Cutting her out of my life the way I did, god, it was just so wrong. And I know that she may not even want to talk to me, but I just have to try. I owe it to her.”

  Viv stays quiet, clearly contemplating everything I’ve just said.

  “But Viv, I want you to know I won’t tell we’ve been together this whole time. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the relationship the two of you have. I can just tell her I’m still in California.”

  “No,” Viv says firmly, sending a wave of panic to my gut.

  “If you’re going to contact her, then you need to be honest. Tell her everything or don’t tell her anything at all.”

  Relief floods my body at what Viv is saying to me.

  “Okay, then I’ll tell her everything,” I say adamantly. Looking over at Viv, I see that she’s relieved. Her eyes begin to mist, and I can’t help but feel horrible for all the weight that keeping secrets from Winona must have put on Vivian.

  I hop off the couch and pull Viv into a huge bear hug. We both start tearing up, then giggling at the sight of us.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” Viv says, but it seems like more of a question than a statement.

  I pull her closer to me. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, and for once, I believe it.

  Talking to Winona isn’t the hard part. The hardest part is mustering up enough courage to pick up the phone and place the call.

  With trembling fingers and a weary heart, I dial the international phone number Viv gave me earlier. She thought it would be best if I did this alone, so she gave me some space by going over to see Will.

  After I punch in her number, I wait. She picks up on the third ring, the familiarity of her voice alerting me that it is indeed Winona.

  I’m frozen, unable to answer for fear of what awaits me on the other side of the phone.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” she asks again, a hint of annoyance in her tone.

  “Winona?” I say so softly I’m not even sure she hears me—that is, until I hear her gasp on the other line.

  “Oh my god. Eleanor, is that you?” Her voice is riddled with desperation, but I catch something else in her question: hope. And it’s that hope that pushes me to continue.

  “Yeah, Win, it’s me,” I say, my voice cracking. I don’t even know what to say next, because so much has happened and I don’t know where to begin telling her everything.

  “God, Eleanor, I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe it’s you after all these years.” I can tell she’s crying from the way her voice hiccups, and that only causes me to start crying too.

  I spend the next two hours on the phone to Winona, telling her everything that has happened over the past few years and apologizing profusely for what happened between us. Finally, after many tears and even some laughter, I finish telling her about the past few months. It finally feels as if a weight the size of Mount Everest has been lifted off both of our shoulders.

  “So, I take it you weren’t ever in California,” she says with a laugh.

  Even though she can be lighthearted about it, the lie still causes me immense guilt. “I’m so sorry for lying to you, Win. I never meant to drag Vivian into this whole mess.”

  “It’s okay, Eleanor. I get it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck that we missed all this time together, but I get it. You guys did what you had to in order to survive. We all do what we need to do in order to survive.” The last part of her sentence catches me off guard, and I feel as though she’s no longer talking about Vivian and me.

  It occurs to me that I have no idea what she’s been up to the past five years, and it’s all I want to know about. I want to know about where she’s been, if she’s fallen in love, how her parents are. I want to know it all, and I’m scared there will never be enough time.

  “Win,” I say cautiously, hoping I’m not stepping on her toes, “what did you have to do?”

  She lets out a long breath before answering, and for a moment, I fear I’ve scared her off.

  “Am I really that obvious?” Her voice sends a shiver down my spine as I notice there’s something hollow about it.

  “It may have been five years, Win, but I could always tell when something was wrong.” Fear chills my body as I worry for what Win had to go through alone, without the support of either me or Vivian.

  “It’s nothing, Ellie. It’s just life I guess. Shit happens, but it’s never stopped me from living. I’m really happy; I’ve got a great photography job here in London, great friends. And now that we’re speaking again, there isn’t much more a girl could want.” I detect a sense of uncertainty in her voice and notice she doesn’t mention the boyfriend Viv told me about, but now isn’t the time to call her out on it.

  We spend the next thirty minutes catching up about what she’s been doing, and she tells me all about her photography career. At the end of our call, we promise to talk at least twice a week, one of them being a Skype session that both Vivian and I are to be at.

  I go to bed that night with calm washing over me, because for the first time in years, I’m at peace with the demons that have been chasing me. And although my life is far from figured out right now, I know that I’m at least taking steps in the right direction.

  January 2015

  Maps

  “I feel really good about everything that happened with Winona yesterday,” I tell Viv as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “I mean, I’m not deluded enough to think things can go back to normal, but I feel like it’s a really good step in the right direction. Maybe she can come visit us soon?” I ask Viv, to no response.

  Viv is completely in her own world, her gaze glued to the paper as if her life depends on it.

  “Oh no, don’t tell me there’s another political scandal again. Let me guess, someone got caught with their pants around their ankles,” I joke as I walk toward her. Viv doesn’t even respond. She simply looks up at me, eyes wide with fear.

  “Jesus, Viv, is everything okay? You’re kind of starting to freak me out.” I walk over to where she’s seated on the couch and peer over her shoulder to see what’s rattled her.

  I drop my coffee, and it spills all over the couch. I don’t notice when it begins seeping into my lap, because the face staring back at me from the front page is one I’m far too familiar with.

  “Shit,” Viv says as she runs to the kitchen to grab a rag, but I don’t move. I don’t even feel the coffee scorching my skin. I’m sure I’ll feel it later, but I sure as hell don’t feel it now.

  The breaking news story, front page, burns into my mind as I try to wrap my head around the headline.

  Notorious Mobster Vinny Morello Arrested as Co-Conspirator in Attempted Murder

  Viv is saying something to me, but I can’t hear a word of it. All I hear is the fast-paced drum of my heartbeat.

  I need to get out of my coffee-stained clothes. I need to change. Now, I have to do it now.

  Ignoring whatever Vivian is saying to me, I push off the couch and walk toward my room, stripping off my coffee-stained pajamas and retreating to the one place that I know will protect me: my bed.

  Only in boy shorts and a bra, I pull the covers over me and try to block out all the noise from the outside world. Because right now it hits me that, even though I’ve been preaching about not avoiding life, as long as I don’t see my father, I will never find peace. And now I may not get that chance.

  I spend the rest of the day and night in bed. The only sounds are those of Jeff Buckley filling my room on repeat. Vivian doesn’t bother to come in. I think the song gives
her the hint that I need to be left alone at this point.

  My tears never come. I don’t scream or yell, and nothing really happens. Even the numbness I’m so accustomed to never comes. Feelings I’ve avoided for years rear their ugly heads. I feel so alone and scared even though I haven’t had the presence of this man in my life for five years.

  And Jess, the only person I want here with me, is the one person I can’t be with right now. I know I’ll get out of bed eventually, but as of right now, the only thing I feel like doing is letting sleep overtake my body.

  I wake up startled, feeling especially warm as unexpected comfort washes over me. That’s when I realize I’m not alone. Jess is next to me, his arm around my waist and pulling me close. I have no clue when he got here, but when I peer over at my alarm clock, it’s past seven p.m.

  Jesus, I’ve really mastered the whole sleeping-through-the-pain thing. Too bad the pain was still waiting right there to smack me in the chest as soon as I woke.

  “You doing okay?” Jess’s husky voice laced with sleep surprises me, and I turn to face him.

  I want to tell him to leave, that in the long run this isn’t going to be beneficial for either of us, but I can’t get my mind to relay the message to my mouth.

  “No,” I say honestly, surprising even myself, “but I don’t want to talk right now. I just want to lie here.”

  Understanding warms his features, and although he looks as if he wants to say more, he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls me close, and we lie in silence.

  I don’t know how long he holds me for. It could be minutes, hours. All I know is that the comfort I get from being with him in this small span of time helps relieve some of the ache. Not all of it, because I think there’s only one thing that could truly do that, and that’s something I’m not ready for.

  I wake to an empty bed, and even though I feel the sting of his absence, I know it’s for the best. I’ve been living in dreamland for so long it’s easy to get into a pattern of avoiding life and the hardships that accompany it.

  I begrudgingly pull myself out of bed, knowing I have some tough decisions to make today.

  I flinch at the person staring back at me in the mirror. Dark circles line the base of my eyes, and my auburn hair looks as though a feral animal has been living in it for god knows how long.

  After pulling my hair into a bun, I throw on some jeans and a sweater, not even bothering to add a stitch of makeup. Today I have bigger issues to deal with than whether or not I look “pretty.”

  As I pull open my bedroom door, the scent of chocolate-chip pancakes wafts through the air, making my stomach grumble. Shit. I guess I haven’t eaten in around twenty-four hours. Speaking of time, I actually have no idea what time it is. Going by the sunlight streaming through the curtains, I take it that it’s midmorning.

  “You’re up,” Jess calls from the kitchen, surprising me. I’d assumed he had gone home. I enter the kitchen and spot him, looking freshly showered and dressed, so I figure he went home sometime in the night to change.

  “What are you doing here?” I don’t mean it to be, but my tone is slightly accusatory. Jess doesn’t seem to notice, or at least pretends not to, as he places a stack of pancakes in front of me.

  “Eat,” he says, motioning to the piping-hot goodness and ignoring my question. I want to refuse and get him to tell me why he’s still here, but my stomach betrays my mind as soon as I spot the pancakes.

  I don’t waste time digging into the chocolaty goodness, and in appreciation, my stomach stops growling.

  “So, I don’t mean to sound rude, because I appreciate the food, I really do, but what are you doing here?”

  Jess stops washing up the dishes and turns to me from across the counter. Unease has crept into his shoulders, and I immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion. “What’s wrong? Is there more news about my dad?” I ask anxiously.

  “No, it’s nothing to do with that, Eleanor,” Jess says quickly to reassure me. “Jesus, Els, I don’t even know how to say this.” He runs his hands through his hair nervously as I put my fork down, no longer in the mood for food.

  “I didn’t read your letter.” His words come at me so quickly I swear they knock the wind out of my lungs.

  He never read the letter.

  “Oh,” I manage to get out, because I honestly don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Hurt? Rejection? Relief?

  I can’t tell which is better. This whole time I assumed he had read it and that he was just being an asshole in response. But to find out this entire time he didn’t even give me the chance to explain, and he never even read it… That hurts.

  “God, Els, I’m so sorry.” His usually stoic stance is noticeably weakened, and I brace myself for what he’ll say next.

  “Why are you telling me this now?” I don’t recognize my own voice. This one is quiet and slowly breaking.

  “After I left last night, Viv cornered me in the hallway and gave me quite the talking to because I kept coming back into your life but couldn’t forgive you for what happened with my dad. After I told her I never read your letter, she kind of lost it. I’m surprised her yelling didn’t wake you.”

  He pauses, looking at me to make sure I’m still listening before he continues. “I had no idea why she was so mad; that is, until she told me what the letter said. I went home immediately and read it. God, Els, I had the whole thing so wrong.” His hurt is obvious, but I can’t deal with all of this right now. I’m finally getting to a place where the mention of his name doesn’t send me into an absolute tailspin.

  “I did tell you. You never gave me the option to explain though. I thought this whole time that you had read the letter, and your anger was just because you didn’t believe me.”

  Jess rounds the counter, pain etched into his features. “Els, it wasn’t that I didn’t believe you. I was just so angry with everything that happened with my dad… I wasn’t thinking straight. Then after the time at Viper, I just wanted us to be done with it. I was so sick of being angry at you that I just wanted to try and move on. I never really thought about the letter because I was done.”

  I flinch from the finality of his words. He was “done” with me, with us.

  “But over break you were all I thought about, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I missed you. Then after the press about your dad yesterday, I knew I had to be here. I guess I figured that maybe we could have a friendship since neither of us seems capable of a relationship. But after I read your letter, it changed everything. Everything I thought about the situation was so off base, Els. I’m so sorry for everything I said to you.”

  He’s now standing in front of me, taking both of my hands. “Please say something,” he pleads.

  “It’s not just about me earning your forgiveness anymore, Jess. I don’t know if I can give you mine.” He sucks in a breath at my words, and although saying them hurts, they need to be said.

  “The truth is, what you said to me hurt. And what hurt even more was the fact you sought comfort in Anna instead of letting me explain.”

  “Els, no,” he says, clearly struggling about what to say next. “Nothing happened with Anna, I swear. She came over after she heard about the breakup, but I told her to back off. I swear, no matter how angry, I could never go there with her. And all that shit I said to you—that’s all it was, shit. I never believed it for a second. I was just so angry. I mean, haven’t you noticed she hasn’t been around town? Right after I told her no, she went back to New York.”

  I won’t deny the relief I feel at finding out nothing happened with Anna, but something still holds me back from getting back together with Jess.

  “I believe you, Jess, I do.” Relief floods his features and he leans in to hug me, but I pull back. “But relationships aren’t supposed to be this hard. This past month has been absolute torture for me. And you and I are finally at a good place again. Do we want to jeopardize it by jumping into another relationship that could fail? I honestl
y don’t think I could survive another breakup.”

  “Eleanor, this time will be different. We don’t have any secrets between us. Please give us another chance.”

  “It’s not about second chances, Jess. Who’s to say next time something goes wrong you won’t just leave me again without letting me explain? And what if I do more stupid shit that you can’t forgive? We may care about each other, but we also hurt each other the most.”

  I pull my hands out of his hold and get off the stool, knowing too well that physical contact is not what we need right now.

  “Els, shit’s going to happen, that’s inevitable, but we can work through it.” I hear the desperation in his voice, but it isn’t enough. I guess the fear of him leaving again has become ingrained in me.

  “I’m sorry, Jess, but I can’t right now. It isn’t that I don’t want to be with you or that I don’t forgive you, because I do. It’s that we aren’t good for each other at this moment in our lives.” As I continue speaking, I see the hurt I’m causing him, but I know it’s for the best for both of us. “I’m not saying we can’t be friends, but I just think that’s all we can be for now.”

  I want to ask him to stay more than anything, but I know it’s pointless. A happy ending is not in the cards for Jess and me, and that’s just something we should accept sooner rather than later.

  “I get how you think that’s what’s right, Eleanor, I do. But I’m just letting you know you’re wrong. You’re scared I’m gonna leave you again, so you’re telling yourself we’re better as friends, but it’s all bullshit.”

  “Jess—” I say, frustration seeping into my words because deep down, I know what he’s saying is true.

  “I’m going to go. But I’m not giving up on us,” he says with his signature smile. He doesn’t bother waiting for a response. He just kisses my cheek and grabs his coat, leaving me dumbfounded in the kitchen.

  What just happened? That conversation just took a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.