Near and Far

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Near and Far Page 19

by Nicole Williams


  Mar’s head bobbing picked up. God, the neck pain that woman must get. “A man.”

  “A . . . man?” I suppose that explained why she spoke so bitterly about them.

  “I was an artist like you when I was young. I wanted to create something the world had never seen before. Something it would never see again. I wanted to paint billboards around the country, a new one every month. I wanted to share what was inside of me. I wanted to share the gift I’d been born with.”

  “You wanted to share your art?” I asked to make sure I was tracking. Mar was getting that crazed look in her eyes she got when she was about to start talking about the land of fire and judgment just below our feet. I always boogied out when the conversation went that direction. That special brand of crazy was only meant for a psychiatrist's ears.

  Mar nodded. “But then I met a man, and he ruined my life. Right before running away once it was good and ruined.”

  Shit. A chill just ran down my back. I couldn’t tell if it was from her words, her tone, or that look on her face. It was probably the combination of all three. Mar was opening her mouth to continue, and I was on the edge of my seat, when Jax burst through Mojo’s front door.

  “Rowen!” he shouted, jogging my way.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sid give him an annoyed look before turning it my way. I guess Sid wasn’t down with me having more visitors than he had customers.

  “What’s the big surprise, for crying out loud?” I asked, glancing over at Mar. She was talking to herself and her eyes were bouncing like pinballs.

  “Are you sitting down?” Jax skidded to a stop in front of the table.

  I lifted an eyebrow at him and waved my hand elaborately at the booth I was seated at.

  “Fine. Why don’t you stand up just so I can watch you pass out when I tell you?”

  Jax rarely did excited, probably because he thought he was above such a passé and overused emotion. Also because Jax Jones was an arrogant, elitist ass. For him to be as close to excited as I’d ever seen him meant one thing. “What Playmate did you lure into your bed now?”

  Two months ago, it had been a runway model. Last month, a fashion model. Sticking with what I knew of Jax’s preferences, and that each girl had larger breasts than the last, a Playmate was the logical guess. And yes, that I was thinking that hot on the heels of being so upset about my relationship just proved how much I was trying to repress those gloomy feelings.

  “Rowen . . .”

  “Fine. Which two did you lure into your bed?”

  “My god, you are a royal pain in my ass.”

  “My sentiments exactly,” I grumbled.

  “Rowen Sterling, would you shut it for five seconds so I can get out what I need to tell you?” I was just about to answer him when he clamped his hand over my mouth. “No response is required. A simple nod will do.” I gave him a “simple” nod. Jax’s hands gripped both of my shoulders as he kneeled in front of me. “Guess who just landed the hottest internship in the Seattle art community?”

  My breath caught in my chest. “Since those are pretty much the same words you said to me when I found out about the art show at the Underground—”

  “And you guessed wrong that time.”

  “I’m going to go with”—I stabbed my index finger into my chest—“me?”

  Jax’s smile stretched into position. “Yes.” He gave my shoulders a shake since I was frozen. “You.”

  I knew my first reaction should have been exhilaration because, really, every single one of those interns had gone on to become highly celebrated artists. I’d just landed myself the golden ticket, for all intents and purposes. So why did I only feel dread? With a big side of despair?

  I knew the answer. He was the answer to all of the questions I’d been wrestling with all month. Jesse. I still hadn’t told him about applying for the internship. If I decided to take it, and I’d be a stupid, stupid fool not to, how could I break the news to him? How could I tell him I’d let some summer job get in the way of spending a summer—a whole three months—with him? How could I admit that an internship took priority over quality time with him?

  That’s not the way I felt about it—Jesse came number one on all of my priority lists—but I knew how it would seem. I was choosing the job over him. I was re-prioritizing, and he wasn’t in the number one spot anymore. Just thinking about all the explaining and heartache was enough to make me light-headed, and I had yet to even accept or decline the internship.

  “Rowen? It’s okay to say something now. Let your snark run wild.” Jax was waiting for me to jump up on the table and do a celebratory dance. That’s what people did when they found out they’d been chosen for that position. Why was I partly hoping the floor would open up and swallow me?

  “Um . . . wow?” That was all the excitement I could muster.

  “You did hear what I just said, right? The gravity of what is about to happen to your career is computing? Nod once for yes. Twice for no.” To Jax’s credit, he did actually sound concerned. He wasn’t just being a wiseass. He flashed three fingers in front of my face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  I promptly slapped them away. “I heard you. It’s just taking a minute to set in.” The longer it settled in, the more unsure I felt.

  “I’m just going to tell myself you’re in shock and unable to show your unbridled excitement.”

  “Jax—”

  “Just let me live in this alternate reality for a while.”

  “Jax—” My uncertainty started to switch to irritation.

  “I’m taking you out to celebrate. Right now.” Jax grabbed my hand and gave it a tug.

  I tugged back harder. “I’m at work. I couldn’t just up and leave to go ‘celebrate’ with you even if I wanted to.” Which I didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate with anyone.

  “You really don’t think your boss would let you leave early? You just landed probably one of the top hundred internships in the whole damn country.” Jax still hadn’t let go of my hand; he still hadn’t given up hope.

  “Have you met my boss? No, he definitely wouldn’t be cool with me leaving in the middle of a shift.” Actually, Sid might have been okay with it.

  “Fine. What time do you get off? I’ll pick you up, and then we’ll celebrate.”

  I couldn’t tell if it was persistence or good old-fashioned pushiness, but he was really starting to tick me off. “Jax. I’m not in the mood to celebrate.”

  His eyebrows came together. “Why not?”

  The disco music in the background, the unyielding stares of Mar and Jax, the internship I’d been offered . . . all of it started messing with my head. The room started spinning, one movie poster and cardboard cutout at a time. “Because . . .”

  “Because? That’s all you’ve got for me? Really?” Jax ran his hand through his hair.

  “Be. Cause.”

  “Rowen? What’s the deal? I give you a piece of news that should have you dancing a goddamned leprechaun jig right now, and instead, you look like you’re about to go to your best friend’s funeral. I’m not following.”

  I took two full breaths. “Jax, thank you for the news, and I’m sorry I’m not living up to your expectations in the reaction department. I need some time to myself right now. Some time to think.”

  Jax’s eyes turned to Mar, who’d been watching the whole exchange with rapt interest.

  “She was visiting me during my break. But I’ve got to get back to work now.” I still had a few hours left of my shift, but I was going to ask Sid if he’d let me leave early. I needed to sort out some stuff, and something about doughnuts, disco, and Sid and Alex’s evening “exchanges” told me sorting stuff out at Mojo would be impossible.

  “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting . . .” Jax glanced at Mar and waited for me to make the introductions. Jax would not take a hint.

  “Jax, meet Mar. Mar, meet Jax.” I waved my hand between the two and slid out of the booth.
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br />   “Pleasure,” Jax said, his expression the opposite of his greeting.

  Mar nodded at Jax then stood. “Thanks for the dinner, Girlie.”

  “You’re welcome.” I stood and crossed my arms.

  Taking one long look at Jax, she gave me a purposeful look. “Now that’s a muse.”

  As Mar shoved through the front door, Jax shouldered up beside me and watched her. “Wow. I gotta give it you to, Rowen. You do know how to pick them. A hick for a boyfriend and a homeless woman as your lunch buddy.”

  I found Jax’s snide comments hard to swallow on a normal day, but right then? I couldn’t deal. “There’s the door, Jax.” I thrust my finger toward it.

  “I know where it is. I came through it.” He looked at me, and from his lack of concern, I guessed the way I felt hadn’t made its way to my outside yet. “Why are you in such a hurry for me to leave? I just got here.”

  “Because I’m not in the mood for adding a misdemeanor to my record tonight.” I quirked an eyebrow, and a moment later, Jax got it.

  “That’s the last time I’m bringing you good news,” he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket and marching for the door.

  “Promise?”

  As he shoved out the door, Jax paused. “Shit, Rowen. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  That was the million dollar question.

  I’VE HAD ONE priority for the past month, and that’s keeping Rowen in the dark about what I’ve been battling. I don’t want her to know. I don’t want her to be a part of it. I don’t want her near it. I want her as far away from the poison flowing through me as I can keep her.

  But after the nightmare I had last night, I couldn’t keep that a priority any longer. I gave myself a minute to calm down when I jolted awake. I wiped the sweat from my face and waited for my heart rate to return to an almost normal beat. Then I reached for my phone on the floor beside me and punched in her number without thinking. It was early, just past four in the morning, and even though I knew my call would wake her, I can’t not make it. After the dream I had, I can’t not hear her voice and know she’s safe. Her piercing screams had repeated my name in my sleep all night, over and over again, calling for me, waiting for me. I’d struggled to get to her, I’d fought against my restraints until I’d blacked out, but I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t save her from the pain. I couldn’t save her from the horror I’d unknowingly dragged her into.

  My breathing was still ragged at the first ring. It hadn’t calmed down any by the second. When she answered on the third, it stopped altogether.

  “Jesse?”

  Oh, god. She wasn’t asleep at all. Her voice was strained, exactly how it’d been in my dream. That jacked my heartbeat right back up to its former level. “Rowen? What’s the matter?” There was silence on the other end. So much that I threw off the covers and reached for my jeans. “Rowen? Are you okay?”

  I heard a muffled sound, like a sob she tried to stop short but sneaked out anyways. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice quiet and hoarse . . . and well, it terrified me.

  I was no longer sure if I was in a real or dream world, but I didn’t care. All I knew was that Rowen was hurting and I was restraint free. I could get to her. I had to get to her. “Are you hurt? Do you need the police or medical attention?” It took everything inside of me to keep my voice level and strong. I felt the total opposite, but I managed it for her. She needed me to stay together.

  “Jesse, no. No, I’m fine.” She sniffled and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice was a bit more composed. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Really. You just caught me at a bad time.”

  I felt a fraction better knowing she was safe and unharmed, at least physically. “What’s wrong, Rowen? Tell me.” It was no longer a question of if something was wrong.

  “I just . . . we need to . . . I need to talk to you.”

  I could feel the battle she was fighting trying to get out each word. I kept up the strong act even though the uncertainty of what she wanted to talk about strangled me. “I’m here now, free as long as you need me. What do you need to talk about?”

  “Not on the phone. I don’t want to say this without being able to look into your eyes.”

  That admission doesn’t set me any more at ease. I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder and slid into my jeans. “I’m coming. I’m on my way.” I buttoned them and grabbed a T-shirt from the stack in my dresser.

  “What? No, Jesse, you can’t drop everything and come see me. Don’t be ridiculous.” Rowen’s voice was getting back to normal, but I couldn’t shake the way it had sounded when she’d first answered. I’d never forget it. “I’ll be out in a couple weekends, and we can talk then. Really, it can wait. You just caught me in a weak moment.”

  If she thought I would be okay waiting almost two weeks to know what was upsetting her, she really hadn’t figured me out. There was no way I could just go about my day like everything was fine with her when something clearly wasn’t. “Rowen, I’m coming. I’m leaving in the next five minutes.”

  “Jesse—”

  “I love you. I’ll see you soon.” I pulled on my socks and boots and slid on my hat before yanking open my bedroom door.

  She let out a long sigh. “I love you, too. But really, I’m okay now.”

  From the way she’d sounded, I doubted it; even if she was okay, I wasn’t. I had to see her. It had been too long, and we were both obviously going through some big things.

  After Rowen and I said our good-byes and she again tried to discourage me from coming and I again discouraged her from continuing to discourage me, I charged down the stairs. I was headed for the front door when someone emerged from the kitchen.

  “Hitting the morning chores a little early, aren’t you, sweetie?”

  “I’m going to see Rowen, Mom.” I grabbed my jacket from the coat rack and threw it on. “I know you and Dad need me here right now, and I know this probably seems incredibly irresponsible and impulsive, but I need to get to her. I need to get to her now.”

  Mom leaned into the kitchen doorway and smiled. “Jess, that’s the first responsible thing I’ve heard you say in weeks.”

  I smiled back at Mom. No one could have stopped me, but getting through the front door without a fight was a weight off my shoulders. “Will you tell Dad? I’ll call you tonight once I get there and know how long I’ll be.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  Needing to get behind the wheel and start ticking off some miles, I opened the front door.

  “Wait! If you think I’m letting you drive ten hours nonstop like I know you will”—she gave me an accusatory look—“with an empty stomach, you really don’t know the woman who raised you.” After rushing into the kitchen, Mom hurried back with a lunch box and a thermos. “Since my summer help up and quit with no notice last night, I had to get up early to make breakfast burritos. I already have half a batch done, so you’re in luck. The coffee’s fresh and strong.” She winked and handed me a road-trip breakfast, lunch, and hopefully not dinner. If I pushed it, I’d be in Seattle before five.

  “About Jolene . . . I’m sorry, Mom.” I didn’t realize she would quit after our conversation last night, but maybe I should have. I hated that it put my mom and my sisters in a tough spot.

  “No apologies, sweetie. I think it was pretty obvious to all of us why Jolene took the job. And it sure wasn’t for the dish washing.”

  I sighed, not sure what else I could say. All I’d done was make a mess of things lately. Shooting her a small smile of apology, I continued out the door.

  “Good luck, Jess,” she called after me. “Don’t be afraid to pay Rowen back the favor she gave you last summer.”

  I hopped in Old Bessie, pausing long enough to give her a confused look.

  “Opening up.” She stared at me like she was trying to really drill that one in and headed back inside.

  I fired up the engine and was too impatient to let it warm up before punching the gas. Ever
y trip past, I’d felt a bit lighter with every mile that brought me closer to Rowen. That trip, though, I felt like a band was tightening around my chest with every mile. I didn’t know why or what that meant, but I pressed on. I’d face my worst nightmares ten times over to get to Rowen.

  IF THEY HANDED out awards for Worst Girlfriend of the Month, I’d be the front runner.

  I couldn’t believe I fell apart like that on the phone with Jesse. I suppose it was all thanks to the perfect storm of bad timing. Jesse had enough on his plate; he didn’t need to deal with me losing my shit when he was hundreds of miles away.

  I could tell something had been going on with him, but every time I’d tried to bring it up, I couldn’t figure out how to fit it into the conversation. As his girlfriend, I should be able to figure out how to ask him how he’s doing, call bullshit when he says fine, and wait in stubborn silence until he ‘fessed up. Not getting to the bottom of what Jesse was dealing with was one of the many reasons I should be preparing my acceptance speech for the Worst Girlfriend of the Month award.

  Another reason? Answering the phone when I’d been up all night crying my bloody eyes out. That was one giant “my bad” on my part. After closing Mojo last night, I’d gotten home a little after two in the morning, tried going to bed, and failed. Then I proceeded to have the most legendary meltdown of my life. Everything I’d been holding at bay the past month, everything I’d stuck my head in the sand at, flooded over me, and it was too much. Too much times twenty. I cried, I sobbed, hell, I even wailed. Alex was with Sid, probably still locked away in his office doing lord knows what to each other, so I hadn’t needed to worry about waking anyone with my dying cat cries. As a policy, I didn’t do crying all that often, but when I did, I didn’t mess around. I was the best crier out there when it came time to let loose.

 

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