by Jo Leigh
But oh, how she missed that magical apartment.
Although her dinner tonight was going to be just as sumptuous as any meal she’d had at the smart apartment. She’d defrosted meatballs she’d made three weeks ago, so she’d heat those along with some bottled marinara sauce. She’d even bought whole wheat Italian sub rolls and decent mozzarella cheese.
Yeah. No difference at all.
It was already dark out at five thirty. The temptation to do the same thing as yesterday—crawl into bed at around six o’clock and fantasize about Rick until she fell asleep—was strong, but no. ROWE was exactly what she needed to get on with her new life.
Routine, order, work, exercise.
Maybe use her journal to examine what had happened with Payton. If she hadn’t realized subconsciously that Payton wasn’t the right man for her, breaking up with him would have been infinitely more painful.
As she picked up the laundry basket, her gaze caught on a framed picture of herself and Payton from the long weekend they’d spent in New York. Not for the first time, she needed a moment to regain her bearings after discovering another piece of their lives that had been scattered around the apartment.
She’d started a box for the obvious things. Since he wouldn’t be spending the night there again, everything in his drawer had been simple. Same with the closet and the bathroom. Then things had become a little more difficult.
Books he’d left here versus books he’d given her. CDs that had found a place in her collection. The TV shows he’d marked for saving on her DVR, some of which she’d found herself enjoying even though it hadn’t started out that way. And some of them a joy to delete.
The phone rang, bringing her out of her reverie, but before she took the call, she put the photo of her and Payton facedown, wishing she had pictures of her and Rick together. Then she went to find her cell phone.
It was her mother. Oh, yeah. This would be an interesting conversation.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, leaving the basket on top of the washing machine before she went to the kitchen. She’d stored half a bottle of pinot in the fridge and half of that went into her glass.
“Happy New Year, honey. I haven’t heard from you since before you left for your party.”
Jenna sat in the comfy chair, the overstuffed beast that didn’t go with anything else in her mix of shaker and craftsman furnishings. Bless its ugly patchwork, the damn thing hugged her the moment she leaned back. “Ah, well, since I can’t figure out a way to ease into this, I’ll just go with the facts. The wedding’s off.”
There was a long silence. A really long one. That Jenna wasn’t going to interrupt. At least it gave her time to enjoy her wine.
“What on earth happened?” Her mother sounded calm enough, though Jenna knew it was a precarious perch.
“He kissed another woman at midnight.”
“Well, honey, that’s...”
“Don’t even bother finding a way to forgive that because there’s more.”
“Oh, God. I don’t know if you’ll be able to get the full deposit back on the dress. Or the banquet room.”
“Not the salient bits, Mom. Truly.”
“Okay, right,” she said, her voice sad. She liked Payton.
“Look, the particulars don’t matter. He wasn’t the man I thought he was, and I’m not willing to settle. The end.”
“You’ve been with him a long time. You told me he was exactly who you were looking for.”
Jenna held back a sigh. It wasn’t as if she wanted to keep secrets from her mother, but they were complete opposites when it came to men...no, to their definition of happiness. Jenna wasn’t ever going to be that woman stuck at home with no idea when or if her husband was coming home. Uncertain every month if the bills would be paid, if her children would have everything they needed to be whole, happy and successful. “I made a mistake,” she said. “I’m grateful it happened before the wedding. It’s much less complicated now.”
“You can really shut the door on Payton that easily? I mean, you were in love with him. That’s a very complex feeling and doesn’t have much to do with logic or reason.”
“I get that, Mom. I do. It hurts. Of course it hurts. But it isn’t crippling, which is a sign that I didn’t love him as much as I could have. I appreciate your concern, but I’m okay. I promise.”
“That’s good.”
Jenna was about to say goodbye when her mom asked, “And you just came home?”
“No. I wasn’t able to get out of Boston before the big storm hit. I stayed in the city with a friend.” Jenna wasn’t going to talk about Rick. Or their one glorious, magical weekend together. She’d keep their brief fairy-tale romance close to her heart. Maybe forever. But as wonderful and charming and yes, nice, Jenna thought with a smile, Rick had been, she was very clear that he wasn’t a forever kind of guy. At least not for someone like her. And she’d made peace with that. Well, it was more a work in progress, but that was okay.
“Good. It’s nice that you have girlfriends in the city.”
Rick was definitely not a girlfriend, but he’d been just the ticket. “Yeah, it was nice. But now that I’m home, I’ve got so much to catch up on.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself. You’re still in mourning over Payton. It’s such a shame. I suppose knowing he’d slept with this other woman...that would be too much to bear.”
A sharp pang in her chest came with the surprise that although he hadn’t slept with Faith, it hurt her as if he had. “I was just working out what to do about the pictures. Of Payton and me. Or us with other friends. There are a lot of photos. I don’t feel the need to rip them apart or cross out his face. I did spend a number of years caring about him.”
“That’s true,” her mother said. “If you want my opinion, I say take all the pictures and put them in a box. Put that somewhere you never look. Eventually, you’ll find them again, and they’ll either bring you joy or not.”
“Oh, that’s very clever. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
It struck Jenna that the whole conversation had been about her. She wished she could think of something to ask her mother, but there was only the usual. “Was Dad there for New Year’s Eve?”
“No, he couldn’t make it in time. But we were together by voice. It was lovely.”
What it was, was typical. Her father rarely made it home for holidays. Or parties. Or birthdays. Or recitals. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I saw some beautiful fireworks with my friends from work. I had a lovely time. I’m sorry you didn’t. Although you sound awfully good for someone whose life has just done a one-eighty.”
“I’m fine. Honestly.”
“I believe you. But, if you don’t mind one more opinion from me, maybe it’s a good time to look at that requirements-for-a-husband list of yours. See if maybe there’s room for some flexibility.”
She was never going to be as flexible as her mother. Not when it came to a husband. But for now, she said. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Mom. I’ve got to go eat something or I’ll really get drunk on this glass of wine. Talk to you soon?”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.”
Jenna hung up, but she didn’t rush to the kitchen. Or to the laundry. She thought about Rick and wondered what she would have done without him.
* * *
HE FINISHED HIS beer and used his hand to crumple the can, something he never did anymore. For years, he’d done it while yelling like an idiot, but now he only did it to see if he still could.
Instead of grabbing another one, he examined the contents of his fridge. Beer, another kind of beer, Chinese food leftovers, pizza still in the box, milk and a half-dozen organic apples. The milk won the toss. He grabbed the Raisin Bran from the cupboard, along with a bowl and a spoon, then settled
at the table. He ate while he finished reading an abstract from the Journal of Meteorology and Climatology, then checked the time.
Jenna would be home now. She’d had to stay after school for a parent-teacher thing, but she’d said she’d be home by nine.
Considering what he’d learned about her evenings over this past week, he’d bet she’d be finished with her chores by the time he packed three boxes. Not books, though. He’d need to go through those carefully, so tonight he’d gather his summer clothes and the spring workout equipment that was currently stored in the gym closet.
After he finished his cereal he grabbed an apple, then took a look at the living room. The open-plan two-bedroom apartment he and Faith shared was tidy, but not really clean. Only some of the furniture matched, but that was because the pieces had been purchased for practicality instead of decor. Good ol’ Ikea. The pictures on the walls were shots of nature or sporting events. In fact, all the pictures on all the walls were like that, and he was pretty sure the lion’s share were Faith’s.
In all the years he’d lived with her he never noticed that their place looked like a big dorm room. One step up from a storage shed. The books they had were mostly nonfiction and mirrored their professions. They’d gone in together on the big-ticket items in the living room, like the fifty-inch LED television.
Without having to look, he knew that their cupboards held a lot more protein powders and supplements than food.
And the gym, well, that said a lot about them both. He tossed the apple core in the trash, and then started with the closet. Their exercise room took up the entire second bedroom, except for a small desk where Faith worked when she wasn’t on the road.
Damn, they had a lot of stuff. A top-of-the-line Bowflex, free weights, kettlebells, balance balls, a yoga station, the Pilates bench, a treadmill and an elliptical machine. The problem was that they’d gone in together on most of it.
When she got back from Mexico, they’d have to discuss the division problem in depth. And that meant he had to do more than drop hints about him moving out. She’d been slammed with the Mexico assignment, the communication between them had sucked and he’d thought he’d wait until she got home to even start looking for apartments.
But he didn’t want to wait. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important to leave soon, but there it was. She’d be in Mexico for at least another week, which would hopefully give them time to talk and him the opportunity to make the move. He didn’t want Faith to feel bad about any of this.
He put in his earbuds and listened to his iPod on shuffle as he packed three boxes. It went quickly, but he was highly motivated. The first thing he did after packing was make a green drink. He turned on the gas fireplace in the living room and settled on the couch before he dialed Jenna’s number.
She answered on the second ring. “How many boxes tonight?”
“Three. How did the parent-teacher thing go?”
She sighed. “Why is it never anyone’s fault but mine when their kids misbehave? According to the survey I’ve conducted over the past several years, based on my own experiences plus the bitching in the teacher’s lounge, every single child in America is an angel who never does anything wrong. Ever.”
“Well, yeah. I guess you didn’t read the fine print on your contract. You’ve got some nerve making angels weep when you give them homework and expect it to be turned in when it’s due.”
“You’re right. I’m to blame.”
“I miss you,” he said, unapologetic about changing the subject.
“I know,” she said. “Me, too. It’s been a little over a week and it feels like a month. What time did you get home from work?”
“Around seven.”
“Wow, early for you. Did you find an apartment?”
“How could I? I’ve been too busy working, packing and talking to you. Every night,” he said, which was the sad truth and damn ridiculous when he thought about it. But Jenna’s laughter was a balm, better for him than any green drink.
“Well, you’re doing a good service because I needed this call,” she said. “Especially after my conversation with Payton.”
Oh, shit. “Wait.” Rick had known this could happen once things returned to normal. They’d talk, reconcile. “Tonight was the parent thing.”
“Lunch. We met at Applebee’s. He wasn’t happy. He didn’t bring any of my things, even though I’d asked him. When I gave him all his stuff back, I felt terrible. He was really hurt and confused, and kept telling me he hadn’t done anything except kiss her.”
“I can spare him a little sympathy,” he said, more relieved than he had a right to be. “I’d hate to lose you, too.”
A moment of awkward silence had him shaking his head. He could’ve worded that better. So, what now? Did he explain he’d been speaking in general terms, or...?
“Thank you for the compliment. That was very sweet,” Jenna said. “Payton’s a nice man and someday he’ll understand this is for the best, but right now he can’t see that he’d settled for me. He just can’t.”
“Not to be obnoxious, but I doubt he settled for you.”
Another few moments of silence. “We went to that stupid Bond-themed reunion five years in a row.”
“Okay.”
“That same night, well, after you and I went to the apartment, I asked him if it was because he’d been hoping to see Faith.”
“Okay.” Surely the guy hadn’t been stupid enough to admit it.
“He said no, but only after he’d hesitated. And I knew, right then, that’s exactly what he’d hoped for. But he settled for me. And I don’t want that. I want someone who loves me. Who can’t stop thinking about me. Who won’t shut up about me. I know, it’s pie in the sky, but that’s it. That’s the truth.”
“You deserve that,” Rick said, knowing that wasn’t all she wanted. Jenna wanted someone steady and predictable, which put him out of the running, and that was okay. That was why this thing between them could be fun and casual. Hell, if he’d learned anything with Faith it was to keep it real. Not make more of a relationship than he should. “I mean it, you do.”
“Thank you,” she said. She’d be blushing now. Those lovely pale cheeks a delicate pink.
Christ, he had to stop thinking about her that way. “I’m checking out two apartments tomorrow.”
“That’s right. I was going to ask you about your wish list.”
“What wish list? You mean about what I want in my new place?”
“Yeah. Like, for me, it would be a balcony that has the right amount of sun in the spring and summer.”
“For tanning?”
“No, silly. I’m always this pale. I grow vegetables. For eating.”
“That must be a large balcony.”
“Nope. I do vertical planting. Some hydroponics and clever stacking. I love eating things I’ve grown. My summer salads are really delicious, but that’s just me. What do you need to have?”
“A second bedroom for a workout room. Good internet. Big master suite. A real wood-burning fireplace would be nice. I’ve got a gas one here, and it’s just not the same.”
“A whole room for working out? No wonder you’re so buff.”
“I’m a little obsessive about keeping in shape. Not just for my ego, but for work. I have to be in good shape to do my job.
“I certainly approve of the results.”
He sighed. “I want to see you again.” The silence lasted longer than he’d hoped.
“I’ve been thinking that, too,” she said softly. “And trying not to.”
“What if we don’t try not to? What if we do something about it?” he asked, dead serious.
“Oh. Gosh. I guess we can find a weekend that works. Decide who’s doing the traveling.”
He grinned. He’d been so afraid she hadn’t
wanted what he wanted. “Okay. Let’s do that.”
“Maybe discuss it after you’ve moved?”
It made sense. He couldn’t get away from work now, anyway. “Good. Excellent.”
“You know what?” she said. “I won’t even mind that we won’t have a magic apartment to stay in.”
“Yeah,” he said, remembering her in his arms. The smart apartment gadgets hadn’t meant a thing when they were making love. Not one thing. “Guess we’ll have to bring the magic with us.”
12
THE SCHOOL AUDITORIUM was packed with sixth graders for the annual sex-education talk. Their teachers were there, as well, although none of them wanted to be. But it was a mandatory talk, not nearly as good as it should be, and exactly, word for word, the same speech the school nurse gave every year.
Jenna, along with five other teachers, was standing in the back of the room, theoretically making sure none of the students started something. Like playing ear-shattering ringtones on their phones, passing around porn, drawing porn, talking, laughing, throwing things, texting, sexting, making out...the list was as almost as long as the speech.
Jenna had always been in favor of banning cell phones on school property. Of course, the rule was for the students, not the teachers. Still, she’d made a habit of only checking her messages at lunch and after class. Well, she had made that a habit.
For the past couple of weeks, her phone had taken residence in the pocket of one of her pairs of skinny jeans, like the ones she wore today with a gray pullover sweater and a darker gray blazer. She’d actually bought two more pairs of black and dark blue jeans that could hold her cell phone, and that didn’t break the dress code.
Because of Rick.
Last night, she’d told him that she wasn’t looking forward to the mind-numbingly dry address by their nurse. Perhaps if the woman wasn’t so horrible at public speaking, Jenna would gladly have paid attention. But Mrs. Epperson spoke in a monotone. A slow, slow monotone that would cure anyone’s insomnia, guaranteed.
So he’d said he’d text her sometime during the talk.
