Then Kiss Me

by Jade C. Jamison

  Scott looked down at his feet, his fists shoved into his pockets. “I can’t stop you.” He said it more like a question than a statement of fact. “So…that’s all we’ve become? Something you call this?” He was clenching his jaw as though he was holding something between his teeth. Fuck…he was pissed.

  But I also knew he was hurt. I could hear it in his voice, even though I couldn’t see it in his eyes. I touched his arm. “Scott, it’s—”

  He pulled away as if I were holding a hot iron on his arm. “Casey, if you need to find yourself, you need to start now.” Oh, Jesus…yeah, he was hurt. After a pause, he asked, “When are you leaving?”

  “In a week.” I had to leave before my body started giving itself away.

  Another pause. “Okay. I hope…you find what you’re looking for.” And then he turned and walked away.

  “Scott!” I called after him again. But I didn’t want to chase him. Not with everyone else just around the corner. So after I’d steeled myself, I casually walked around and watched him leave. But some of my coworkers who were paying attention noticed how quiet Scott had become before he left. They looked at me, accusations in their eyes. Or was it my imagination, my own guilty conscience?

  And that’s the way the whole week went. Carla was the only person who asked me why I was leaving, and I told her what I’d told Scott. Everyone else just treated me as though I’d personally betrayed them. And maybe I had—Scott was well-liked by all the employees there, and it was no secret that I’d broken his heart. I was now playing a villain.

  David was almost as hard to deal with as Scott. He said, “You promised. You promised, Casey, and you lied.”

  “I didn’t use him, David. And I didn’t promise shit.”

  “You knew.” He gave me a look that crushed me. “And you broke his heart anyway.” And then he refused to talk to me anymore. Needless to say, work was uncomfortable the rest of the time I was there.

  I told my landlord the next day. Lewis, such a sweet guy, said, “Casey, you’ve still got lots of time on your lease if you want it. And you’ve paid your rent through the end of the summer.” I thanked him and told him it was okay. But he let me rent his storage shed in the back for all the stuff I wasn’t taking…which was a good chunk of what I owned. He said he’d just take my rent and apply it to rent for the storage shed, and he didn’t hold me to the terms of the lease. I bought a new padlock and paid him in advance for the remainder of the year for the use of the shed. “So you plan to come back, Casey?”

  “Yes, absolutely. I just don’t know when.”

  He told me to call him if I needed to get into the shed after he’d rented the house so the new tenants wouldn’t call the police or anything like that. Lewis was pleased with all the work I’d done on the house. I’d barely started on the yard, but there were no weeds. I’d done that much at least. He was happy, so that’s all that mattered. I was glad, because he’d helped me save a lot of money over the last few months.

  I had to decide what to take with me. I packed a box of art supplies to take with me but I was going to see if my parents would mind if I stored my paintings and drawings in their basement or someplace cool and dry if they had room. I was concerned that the shed wouldn’t be a safe place. I did set aside the drawing of Scott…that I was taking with me. I’d also snapped a few pictures of him on my phone during his last concert, so I could at least look at his face once in a while. I packed a few changes of clothes and toiletries and fit everything into two suitcases. The rest of my stuff that I wanted to keep I would store.

  I got a call from Isabel at the art gallery—I’d sold another painting, so she had some money waiting for me. “Bring me more.” She’d already taken my weird pansy painting…that might have been the one that had sold, but I wasn’t sure. I told her I was going to be leaving for some time and I wasn’t sure when I’d be back. When she found out I wanted to store some of my paintings and drawings, she said she had a shelf on a closet where I could store them, especially if I wanted her to sell some of them. Hell, yeah. The only one I didn’t want to part with was already packed for my trip. She had my cell phone number and my parents’ address in case she needed to reach me.

  Then another hard thing to do. I went to my parents’ house to tell them. Mom had made dinner, and the three of us sat down at the table.

  “What’s on your mind, honey?” Dad asked. I hadn’t been over for dinner in close to a month, and I’d initiated this get-together. Dad knew something wasn’t quite right, but he didn’t know what.

  “I’m going to be leaving town in a few days.”

  Dad swallowed his bite of potatoes. “Well, you’ve definitely earned a vacation.”

  This conversation was going to be harder than I’d thought, but typical dad…looking for the silver lining. “No, dad, I’m leaving for good.”

  Mom’s eyes glittered. “Are you moving back to Denver with Barry?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, well, I talked with him last week, and I thought—”

  “Mom, I don’t care what Barry tells you; he and I are over. Long over.”

  “Oh.”

  “In fact, that’s part of the reason why I’m leaving. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve lost myself. I’m getting close to thirty, and it’s time to figure out who I am and what I want.”

  Mom, as usual, pushed the envelope. “And you can’t do that with someone you love?”

  I made sure I stayed calm. “Mom, I don’t love Barry anymore. And, until I moved out of his apartment, I thought the feeling was mutual.”

  “No, honey, he still cares very much for you.”

  I picked at my food with my fork in silence for a while. Dad knew better than to get in between mom and me, so he didn’t say anything.

  When I spoke, my voice was low. “Mom, dad, that’s part of the reason why I have to go. I have never been alone before…”

  Dad asked, “Do you feel smothered by us?”

  “Oh, no…no. I’ve—uh—I’ve been seeing someone here.”

  My mother’s eyebrows jumped up her forehead. “You’ve been dating?”

  I nodded my head. “He’s a wonderful guy, but—” The lie swept away from me. I stared at the peas on my plate. There wasn’t any but with Scott—he was a wonderful guy, period. And then I saw the tear fall; it splashed off my fork. I didn’t want to go. I had to. But I couldn’t tell anyone…not a soul.

  Dad patted my shoulder. “It’s okay, Casey. We support whatever decisions you make.”

  “Where are you going?” mom asked.

  “I honestly don’t know. I thought about driving down to Peru or Chile—I’ve heard the Andes are a sight to see. But I really don’t know. I’m just going to go where my heart leads me.” Ah, now that was a lie. My heart…it would lead me right back here. And I had to go anywhere but here.

  Dad said, “Call anytime…if you need anything. You’re still young. Go see the world while you can.”

  Mom asked, “Do you need any money?”

  For some reason, I felt touched by my mother’s question. “Thanks, mom. I’ve got some money saved up. I think I’m okay.”

  At that one moment, I felt close to my parents and closer to my mother than I had in years. We stayed up past midnight talking, reminiscing…enjoying each other’s company. I went to my place feeling close to them.

  The day to leave came more quickly than I’d expected. Scott must have changed his schedule because I hadn’t seen him at work since I’d broken the news to him. Well, maybe that was how he was going to deal with it. Strange, though, because for weeks we’d been all but inseparable. It made me partly angry, but I also understood. I called David the night before to say goodbye. He had forgiven me, but he was still a little cool. I didn’t ask about Scott, and he didn’t offer any information.

  My parents came over the morning of my departure to see me off. I hugged them both and felt the tears threaten to fall again. I kept it together, though, because I didn’t want my fam
ily encouraging me to stay. They would if they knew how miserable I was, so I put on as happy a face as I could muster. Mom kept asking if I had everything I needed, and I assured her I did.

  As I started to get in my car, I saw Scott’s truck pull up. I held my keys in my hand so tightly my knuckles turned white. I drew in a deep breath to steel myself—I didn’t want to be too emotional (anymore than I already was; I’d been crying at the drop of a hat over the last two days). My heart had started beating faster just seeing him.

  He walked up to me. Quietly, he said, “David told me you were leaving today.” He stretched out his hand to my parents. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Williams.”

  Mom looked at me…with approval. That surprised me. She must have thought, upon initial impression, that Scott was a catch. He was, and I was throwing him back. What the fuck was wrong with me? “This is Scott,” I said.

  “Look…I’m sorry I got mad at you.”

  I lowered my voice. “You had every right to be. It came out of the blue.”

  He looked down. He was uncomfortable talking with my parents there. Hell, so was I. Thank heavens they were intelligent. Dad said, “Honey, we’ll go ahead and go.” They both hugged and kissed me, and I saw tears forming in my mother’s eyes. No…that made it harder. But I clamped my jaw, forcing myself to be strong. “Take care of yourself. Call if you need anything.”

  Mom let go of me and said, “It was nice meeting you, Scott.”

  He nodded. “You too.” Yeah, too bad it was under these shitty circumstances. They got in their car and left.

  “Casey,” Scott asked, “are you running from something?”

  How to answer that one? “No.” Simple enough. “I just have to go.”

  He lifted my head with his fingers under my chin. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  I lied this time. “No.” How did he know? Was I that obvious?

  He held me in his arms for the longest time. “Is there anything I can say that will make you change your mind?”

  I wished there were something…anything. “No, Scott, I…”

  He looked me straight in the eye, and I was afraid he’d be able to see my soul, figure out what I was hiding. It took my breath away. “Are you coming back?”

  I nodded. “Yes…I just don’t know when.” That was the honest-to-God truth. But I had to have this baby first and figure out what to do with my life. Then, well…I just didn’t now.

  He held me close again. Forgiveness? “Casey, I’ll…miss you.”

  I hugged him as tightly as my thin arms would allow. “I’ll miss you too, Scott.” More than he knew. I was leaving everything, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

  And then he kissed me…the same meant-to-be-together, passionate yet tender, life-fulfilling kiss, and yet it was even more than that.

  There was finality to it…the last time we would ever kiss.

  “Do you have a CD player in your car?” I nodded. “Be right back.” He walked over to his truck and pulled out a small plastic bag. When he reached me, he took out the CD he’d made me that I kept forgetting, his band’s demo CD, wrapped in a paper sleeve with a round plastic window. I smiled. But he wasn’t done. He then pulled out Lamb of God’s Wrath…now our CD. Jesus…he was making it hard to go.

  I continued to smile through my tears, wishing I had something else to give him too. He already had my heart. Did he know that? “Thanks, Scott. I…don’t know what to say.”

  He touched me under my chin, urging my face up to his. His voice was soft when he said, “Say you’ll stay.” Oh, God…that was like someone reached into my chest and squeezed my heart. That hurt, because I wanted to say yes, but I just couldn’t.

  His face was blurry through my watery eyes. “I…can’t.”

  He pulled me close again until my sobs died down once more. “So this is goodbye, huh?”

  I nodded again, something I was finding easier than tears. I hated for this to end. Why couldn’t time just freeze here, when I was still in his arms, when my life was still okay? The tears started again, and I found myself wanting to scream at him, I love you, Scott. I’m carrying your baby. Please tell me everything will be okay.

  But instead, I said, “I guess so.” We kissed again, one last tender kiss. Finally, we parted, and I got in my little Versa and drove down the road, not knowing where I was going, not knowing what tomorrow would hold. That memory of Scott through my rearview mirror, standing next to his truck, watching me drive away would haunt me in my dreams for a long time. For now, though, my heart had cracked and was bleeding, dying…and I’d done it. Could I survive without my heart?

  Part II

  July 24

  WHEN I LEFT yesterday afternoon, I drove down the mountain toward Colorado Springs. I considered staying there…a big city, lots of opportunities, close to Winchester. But then I knew that would be stupid. There would be too many chances of people I know popping up somewhere in the Springs (including my sister who lives there). Way too many chances. When people from Winchester want to go shopping in a real mall, they go to the Springs; a lot of people go outside of Winchester for cars, specialty doctors, concerts, flights, and so many other things. Some people come to the Springs at least once a week. It’s a chance I’m not willing to take.

  So I stopped at a gas station and filled up my car. I also got a coffee and then stood outside for a few minutes, sipping my coffee and having a cigarette, deciding which way to go.

  I know I have to quit the cigarettes with a baby in tow. That will be the first thing I’ll do once I settle in somewhere.

  I considered going north, but I despise Denver. I don’t want to go back there. Besides, I know I’d be tempted to contact old friends…people who aren’t really friends anymore. They’d all sided with Barry, and why not? He had the money and the power. I was just the trophy wife.

  Hah…trophy wife, me? And yet, that’s what I’d been.

  So I decided to go south. I wouldn’t stay in Pueblo either. I’d grown up there. Again, there’d be way too many opportunities to run into people I knew…lots more there than elsewhere, considering I’d spent my whole childhood and teenage years there. No. I want to go somewhere where no one will know me.

  I toyed with the idea of going south…New Mexico or even Mexico. I’d been coy when I’d said South America, even though the idea intrigued me. I don’t want to go to a foreign country right now and, honestly, I have no idea where my passport is. The last time I’d used it, I’d been in high school with my parents when we’d gone to Canada. I don’t know if I would have had to renew it. Hell, I don’t even know where the damned thing is. Probably somewhere in my parents’ house, if I had to guess. Besides, I don’t know what kind of hospitals or doctors I’ll find in other countries.

  No, I want to stay in the U.S. The question is where.

  So, when I got to Pueblo, I had a decision to make. South or west? I knew I didn’t want to go east. East is nothing but hundreds of miles of flatland…Pueblo was just the beginning. No, I knew my heart is in the mountains. That’s part of why I’m missing Winchester already. It was nestled up against some gorgeous green-blue peaks. The air there is crisp and clean and…well, there’s someone there that makes that place home to me. But I can’t go there.

  So…west or south? Well, thinking about Winchester made me make up my mind. West, it was, deeper into the Rockies. In Pueblo, there are several ways to go west, but I took the first one available—Highway 50—and I just drove. By the time I got to Cañon City, it was dark outside. Did I want to keep driving? Yes, part of me wanted to drive and drive and drive and never look back. But I was tired. I’d been crying off and on through the whole trip and just needed some rest.

  So I stopped at the first inexpensive-looking motel I spotted and checked in.

  And now I’m sitting on the bed in this room and wondering what the hell I’ve done. I still don’t feel pregnant, although I do recall the nurse saying something about that…that I might not feel p
regnant for a while, save for some morning sickness. Well, I’ve felt sick the entire last week. I haven’t really vomited much, but that’s not necessary either.

  I need to buy a book on pregnancy so I’m not so fucking stupid about the whole thing. And I also know I need to get a doctor once I settle in somewhere too.

  Pregnant…yeah, I don’t feel a lot of those things you hear about, things like morning sickness, swelling, butterflies…none of that. The only real symptom I have is emotions that are totally out of control. Again, I don’t think I can blame that just on hormones.

  And I already miss Scott terribly. I know I just saw him a few hours ago, but I also know that was it. That’s the last time I’ll see him until…well, I just don’t know when. At least several months down the line. I listened to his demo CD a few times on the road, and during some of the heavy percussion points—you know, those spots where the drums are obvious, where they’re more than integral; they’re pounding out at you?—I could picture Scott in my mind, beating the hell out of the drums, something I felt like doing. I wanted to beat something, scream, cry.

  I was trying to figure out how far along I was. The problem was I couldn’t remember the exact date of my last period. I guess it doesn’t matter. The nurse gave me an estimated due date based on the details I’d given her, but she said I needed to go to an obstetrician. He or she would order an ultrasound and that would give me a more decisive and accurate date. Right now, my due date is February 20, but that could change drastically.

  So, once I figure out where I’m going to settle in for a while, I need to find a doctor. Preferably one who’s inexpensive. I’m not ready yet, but it needs to be done.

  As I look back over this past year, the only thing I know I did right was divorcing Barry. That’s about the only thing I’m sure of. We didn’t love each other. We loved sex with each other and even that wasn’t so great after a while. We got married when we should have parted as friends.