by Owner
“Oh,” I say, not sure myself if that’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be? Except that I look like hell and suddenly care what he thinks.
He sees my helpless expression. “I’m sorry if that was out of line. It’s just, well, the guy hates me, so I thought maybe…”
“No, I get it. It’s totally fine. You two should get to know each other. Ned’s a little over-protective. He’ll come around. I better change.”
I turn to leave but stop before I hit the doorway. “Wait,” he says holding a wooden spoon in the air.
“What’s up?”
“Before you go, I need to tell you something.”
He wears the expression he had when he first arrived. The one I was beginning to forget he owned. “Is everything okay?” I ask, studying him.
“I should have told you this sooner. It’s about me…and Sage.”
●●●
“Thanks for being nice to Travis at dinner,” I say into Ned’s ear. It’s so loud that’s the only way we’ll hear each other. We’re sitting at the bar at Café Tonic listening to a rock band called Crazed. It’s smoky, insanely hot, and packed mostly with people younger than we are. But my friend, Jimmy, plays bass and I promised to come for support.
“I did it for you,” Ned says in my ear. His mouth lingers there and chills run down the back of my neck. “I still don’t trust the guy.”
I nod in agreement, and we don’t talk for the rest of the song. I’m not sure if Ned even enjoys this type of music, but I watch his reaction. I catch him bouncing his knee, bobbing his head to the beat. I examine every feature on his face as if I’m seeing them for the first time: His brown, office-guy haircut with a hint of a curl at the end, the same dusty-blue eyes that remind me of Emily, full lips that sometimes look frowny, until he unleashes that adorable little-boy smile. Then I have this heavy weight against my chest that I can’t explain. I don’t understand how this is happening between us after all this time. It didn’t happen all at once, like diving into a frigid pool and realizing you’re gasping for air. It was a slow, subtle, submission, the way autumn leaves turn from green to red to yellow.
“What are you doing?” I hear Ned say.
“What?” I hear now that the music has stopped. Ned must have been talking to me as I dazedly studied his face.
“I asked you if you wanted another beer.”
Damn, why do I feel like an awkward teen on my first date? “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
When Ned disappears, Jimmy appears, standing in front of me flushed and disheveled from his set.
“Holy crap, Jax! Can’t believe you came. What d’you think? We rocked it right? How ’bout that last song? That’s the one I told you about. The one that me and Cory wrote. Sort of a Zeppelin feel, huh? Well?”
I’ve learned to let Jimmy get it all out before I respond. “Yeah, you guys totally rocked it.” His ass lands swiftly in a chair, and then he scoots it even closer to me. His hands land on my arm. He’s a toucher. “And your song was awesome. I could hear that on the radio.”
“No shit? Man, I appreciate that.” He hugs me, kisses me on the cheek.
Ned settles in next me, setting the beers on the table.
“Hey, man. I’m Jimmy.”
The two shake hands, but I see Ned’s skeptical eye surface. The one I thought was reserved for Travis. “Ned.”
We make small talk about the band, the bar, and then Jimmy and I talk about some mutual friends. Ned glares at my unsuspecting buddy every time he touches my arm or hand. Jimmy asks about Miles, another friend of ours, who took off to attend Yale, which is extremely random among our crowd. Ned has been quiet, watching us, drinking his beer. I tell Jimmy how Miles graduated, is making six figures, and recently engaged.
“Good things happen to good people,” Jimmy says with a fist pump.
Ned finally speaks up, “Oh, yeah. What about Anne Frank?”
I almost spit out my beer. Jimmy’s eyebrows furrow before he says, “What?”
I shake my head with a breathy laugh. “Forget it, Jimmy. Ned has a strange sense of humor.”
“All right,” he says unconvincing. “I should probably get back.” He hugs me one last time, shakes Ned’s hand again, and says, “Thanks for coming. It was great to see you, Jax.”
“Take care, Jimmy. Tell the guys I said hi.”
When he’s out of earshot, I smack Ned on the arm. “Really?”
“I know you thought that was funny.”
I shake my head, but my face tells him he’s right.
Then his expression grows serious. “You want to take off?”
“Sure. Where to?”
“You’ll see.”
●●●
We end up at Ranger Station, a small park between the bar and my house, a few hundred yards from the beach. We used to come here at night when we were in high school, bring some liquor, swing on the swings, and talk the night away.
“C’mon,” Ned says, jumping on a swing.
I grab the one next to him and get my legs pumping, remembering how I used to stare at the sky, waiting for a shooting star. I look over at Ned as we try to sync up our swinging, hoping not to ruin this relationship.
Once we are going so high that my grip tightens around the chains, I laugh for no reason.
“What?” Ned says.
When I don’t answer, the giggles hit him and we are both laughing into the night. Thankfully we are the only ones in the park. The air is crisp and calm. A sense of freedom and excitement flows into me with each gasp I take. This fit of laughter both energizes me and gives me a release. I hadn’t been aware how serious I’d been the last couple of months. Tears border my eyes. The wind in my face stretches and pulls them back.
After a few moments we both settle into panting smiles. Ned slows his swing, and I follow his lead. I hear the birds squawking out above the ocean. I stop my swing fully and say, “Can I share something with you?”
Ned steadies his swing, repositions himself so he’s facing me. “Anything.”
“I want to be as honest with you as you were with me. If anything happens between us, you should know something.”
“Please tell me this is not about your inmate.”
“Stop. Of course not. It’s about Dale.”
He looks away from me, worry covering his face. “You two getting back together?”
“No.” I get up, take his hand. “Let’s walk.”
We take the pathway that follows the park, parallels the train tracks, and leads to the beach. I give him a brief history of Dale and me, how we got together, and our break-up. Then I tell him about Valerie’s confession to Dale, that she’d been unfaithful and her partner was HIV positive. It’s a relief to talk about it. I admit we had unprotected sex on one occasion. Ned’s expression of concern doesn’t change at my confession. I finish by telling him about the tests, that it’s all behind me now.
“Did you love him?” he asks.
“No. But I thought he loved me. And I hoped that was enough.”
We walk in silence, leaving me pondering what he’s thinking. If this makes Ned have second thoughts, then so be it. I made a mistake, but I don’t regret my life or who I am. We end up stopping at small grassy area with a giant tree right in the middle. I lean my back against it, not wanting to speak first. Ned stands in front of me. “I know that was hard for you. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
“I do trust you, Ned. I’ve never felt closer to you.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, Ned’s eyes lock on mine and my heart sinks. He closes the short distance between us, leans down slowly until his lips are a breath away from mine. They linger there as he slips a hand behind my lower back and pulls me even closer, so that my chest is pressed against his. I draw in an unsteady breath. “Jax,” he whispers. “Okay?”
“Yes,” I say breathlessly, fear pounding out in my heart. I wait for our lips to touch. But they don’t. He brushes the hair from my forehead and slides two fingers down th
e side of my cheek. My face flames as his lips plant a tiny peck on the corner of my mouth, readying me for his kiss. Something familiar about this whole experience sends a wave of panic over me as his head moves to my neck. He kisses my collarbone and then—“Shit!” I push him hard, sending him tumbling backward.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t! Don’t even try it. You know what the fuck is wrong. You didn’t think I’d remember?”
“I…Jax, I…” He looks at the ground, then out into the darkness, breathing fast and ragged.
Why would he deliberately repeat that whole experience? My God. “You wanted me to remember, didn’t you? Because you couldn’t man up and tell me the truth. How could you do this to me?” That kiss, that goddamn kiss meant so much to me and now to find out it was Ned is incomprehensible.
He takes a step toward me. I push off the tree and take off past him. No, this isn’t over yet. I turn and glare daggers at him. “Why? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Jax, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you it was me that day. So many times, but I couldn’t.”
“Oh my God, you let me tell that story to you at Jung’s house. I bet you got a good freaking laugh out of that.” My stomach turns, as I yell at Ned, not caring that he looks terrified. He shakes his head over and over. I never imagined that he would take our so-called rivalry this far. “You finally one-upped me, Ned. Are you happy?”
“I swear to God, it wasn’t like that. Please, believe me.”
I can’t look at him any longer. He’s tainted a perfect, beautiful memory I cherished. “You know I’m not one to get embarrassed. But congratulations, Ned. You’ve just humiliated me.” I walk off in the direction of my house and don’t look back.
CHAPTER 25 - EMILY
Here’s my best piece of advice to new parents. Don’t buy them anything. You’ll want to get your little darlings everything. You’ll gaze into those giant innocent eyes and want to give them the world: all the cutest outfits, the coolest toys that not only make incredibly loud and annoying noises, but actually teach them something—the games, the gadgets. But after three kids, I’ve finally learned a valuable lesson: Save your money. The clothes will get stained or outgrown, and the toys will be played with for a week, tops. And if your kids are like mine, they’ll have more fun with the box the toy came in than the actual toy.
Too bad I didn’t learn this two kids ago, so I didn’t have to spend the last two hours cleaning and organizing the garage. Why am I doing this? I’d like to say it was only because we are running out of room, creeping dangerously close to being hoarders. That’s partly true. Add to that the fact that I’m going stir crazy with two of my children out of the house today. Eric took James to the driving range—he thinks he’s going to raise the next Tiger Woods—and Sophie is visiting her friend, Keeley. I’ve already texted the mother twice. Benny’s taking a nap, so I’ve got the monitor out here while I de-clutter my garage and my brain.
On my knees and fighting terrible cramps, I close up a large box of abandoned stuffed animals, toys, and baby clothes to send to Eric’s pregnant sister, Marta, in Mexico. I’m sure he’ll question the baby clothes. He’ll wonder why we are not saving them for the next one. Reason number three for my sudden need to organize. Eric and I have been competing in the same hint-dropping game, neither of us wanting to come out and say exactly what we want. It breaks my heart to know how badly he wants more children when I don’t. But that’s not entirely accurate. Having babies is what I was born to do. Holding them in my arms leaves no question about that. But part of me simply understands that this is all I can handle.
Yesterday I received a long letter from my mother in Florida. They’re suddenly yearning for the southern California weather. I can’t help but consider Ned or Eric has talked to them about how I’ve been since James’s accident. And though I’ve gone to great lengths to hide my anxieties, everyone around me seems to be walking on eggshells whenever in my presence. Let’s all team up and help poor, pathetic Emily who can’t handle life and mommyhood.
I write “Marta” on the top of the box and slide it toward the door. I have two other boxes there which include clothes, bottles, and bibs for the Goodwill. My next move for Eric in our unspoken message game. He hadn’t said a word when I left my birth control pills on the counter the other day. He’d asked me a few months ago if I’d stop taking them. Would I let God decide? I’d agreed, but I started taking them again. Maybe going on and off of them so many times is why this cycle seems to be hitting me so hard.
I check my phone to see if Keeley’s mother has returned my text. It has to be painfully obvious I’m making up reasons to contact her to check in on Sophie. My phone displays the message. Yes, Sophie has her sweatshirt with her. Girls are doing fine.
I head back in the house to check on Ben, to make sure the completely silent monitor is working. He’s splayed out on his back, wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I watch the heavenly sight of his chest moving slowly up and down.
I still have some quiet time left, so I head down the hall, a burst of excitement releasing inside me like I’m playing hooky in my own home. First, I make a beeline to the freezer to grab an almost empty mini Cherry Garcia carton. Add spoon, paper towel, phone, bottled water, monitor, all clutched to my chest as I aim for the couch. I line it all up in front of me on the coffee table, sit crossed-legged on the couch, and reach for the remote when a siege of cramps takes over my stomach. I consider getting up for some Motrin, but I’m sure it will subside any second.
It doesn’t.
A few minutes later a gushing sensation has me racing to the bathroom. I press my hand against my abdomen as I sit on the toilet, a familiar awareness jockeying for center stage in my brain. But this doesn’t make any sense. I fight against the realization as I stare down into the toilet, the bowl a massive sight of thick red fluid. I’d been back on the pill, taking them every day. Hadn’t I remembered to every day? The pain stops me from processing what’s happening. But as the minutes pass, there is no doubt in my mind that this looks and feels like the same experience as my miscarriage before I got pregnant with James. Last time, I’d gone to the hospital and they’d confirmed it. I know it’s the right thing to do. I could ask my neighbor to sit with Ben while I’m gone.
I stay where I’m at, frozen and unable to even get up from the toilet. I know the statistics on why miscarriages happen. But it doesn’t stop me from replaying everything I’d done over the last few weeks, including Sophie’s party. My head falls to my hands, my throat burns and lumps up as I try to swallow back my sobs. My God, what would Eric think? What have I done? The pain in my stomach feels like it’s subsiding because the pain in my chest is so overwhelming. My heart aches not only for the loss of a child I didn’t even know was growing inside, but for Eric who will never know he was almost a father of four. How could I be so irresponsible? I can’t let this happen again. I don’t deserve another child and can’t handle this no matter how badly Eric wants it. I cry until my eyes are drained of every last tear. Then I walk in a trance to the couch to lie down. I stare at the phone, wanting to call someone to come and take this pain away, but I can’t find the strength.
Exhausted, I start to drift off when the phone startles me awake. I answer with a reluctant hello even though it’s my brother, whom I haven’t heard from in over a week.
“Hey, Sis,” Ned says.
I mute the TV which I just realized was still on. “Hey. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“Your dialing finger broken?” he says.
I don’t answer or try to figure out why he’s pissed, so I just sigh on the line.
“Whatever,” he says, “Just call me back when you give a crap.”
“Wait!” I say, hoping he doesn’t hang up. I need to keep hearing his voice. But now he is silent. “Ned, you still there?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” I say and try to think of something to cover my disposition. “It’s just you haven’t
called, and the kids have been asking why they haven’t seen you lately.” I pick up the monitor and hold it next to my other ear. Breathing.
“I’m sorry. How are they? I miss them.” His tone is calmer now, with a hint of sadness.
“Everyone’s good.” I scramble for something that sounds ordinary. “Sophie lost another tooth.”
“She putting this one under her pillow?”
“Nope, it went in that change purse with the rest of them. But she did ask if Uncle Ned would give her a dollar again for pain and suffering.”
“Tell her I’ll bring her one soon. I’m sorry I haven’t been around. Had a lot of work to catch up on.”
I breathe a little easier listening to my brother. “Really? Work?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my life, my work. I need to get serious and start working toward something.”
“Stop it. You’re doing great.”
“Yeah, no family, no steady girlfriend for what, five years. I’m going nowhere with this company, and it’s my own fault. What the hell have I been doing with my life?”
I don’t understand where this is coming from. “Neddy, we’re your family.” Then a thought occurs to me. “God, I hope it’s not me…us that’s been holding you back.”
“What? No way. You guys are the only thing great I’ve got going. But it’s time for me to get serious about some things. Stop all this dicking around with Sage and Jax.”
I place my hand across my stomach before pushing bad thoughts from my brain. I need to focus on Ned. “So that’s what this is about. Why didn’t you say so?” I turn off the television, walk the ice cream back to the fridge, then return to the couch.
Ned’s voice gets loud and squeaky. “It’s not about that. Not really. I just recognize what a royal fucking loser I’ve been. No wonder I’m so far behind everyone else.”
“It’s not a race, Ned. Tell me what happened. I thought you and Jax were getting close.”
