by Ashley Munoz
I was pissed. Beyond pissed. I had been pacing back and forth for the past hour, waiting for Jackson. I knew that this whole, shitty thing was on me, but he shouldn't have pushed it so far. He was my friend, and knew something was going on. Finally, around nine, he walked in. He still had his jacket on and a somber look on his face, like he had a terrible date. Good. I walked up to him and punched him square in his face.
“That was for pushing me so far today, knowing things between Ramsey and me are complicated!” I shouted at him as I rubbed my knuckles.
He adjusted his jaw a bit while he stared intensely at me. He slowly peeled off his jacket, then his shoes, and walked past me. “I’ll watch the kids and put them to bed. You should go talk to Ramsey, I think she’s waiting to hear from you.”
What the hell did that mean? How would he even know? Jealousy surged through me. I hated feeling like this, feeling this ownership over her like she belonged to me when she didn’t. I didn’t even respond, because honestly, I had been waiting to talk to Ramsey all day, and I wasn’t going to wait for another second if I didn’t have to. I threw my shoes on, grabbed my keys, and headed out.
I parked my car, not wanting to be too loud with the bike, got out, and stomped up Ramsey’s driveway. Her house was dark, but as I got closer, I could see the television was on in the living room. I suddenly worried that she was asleep, and that I would have to wait until tomorrow to talk to her. That thought made me panic, and that, added in with my earlier anger, wasn’t good. I knew I needed to cool down before I knocked on the door, before I faced her, or worse, didn’t face her… but my hand had a mind of its own. It balled up into a fist and began rapping on her door. I held my breath while I waited for her to answer.
I couldn’t hear anything behind the door, and just as I was about to knock again, I heard the deadbolt unlock. Hope surged through me as a sleepy Ramsey slowly pulled the door free. She carefully peeked out through the opening, as though she was trying to be careful, as well as establish a boundary. I looked at her, then the size of the gap that she allowed, and gently placed my hand on the door while I spoke. “Hey, I thought we could talk. Is now a good time?”
She pushed her lips together and scrunched her eyebrows, like she was thinking about saying no. I could tell our relationship was about to suffer a major backslide. But she surprised me by swinging the door wide and carefully moving her body to the side so that I could enter. I stepped through the door, walking a little further into the entryway, and into her living room. She had relocked the door and as I looked back, she was adjusting the massive blanket that was wrapped around her. She had her wet hair piled on top of her head, in a neat way that showed off her long neck. The blanket had slipped a few times, and I knew that she was wearing a sleep tank with tiny straps, and sweats. Comfortable; she looked comfortable. There was no makeup on her face, no attempts to be something other than just who she was. I craved that kind of authenticity in a woman, and there she was, standing right in front of me.
She made her way to the couch and curled up under the blanket, waiting for me to take my seat. I sat down across from her on one of the chairs. Her face was expressionless, and it made me uneasy. She blandly asked, “Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, or tea?”
She didn’t get up or even move, so I knew she was just trying to be polite. “No, I’m good,” I replied, a little softer than I normally would. My earlier anger was starting to dissipate, just with her being in the room with me.
She was still staring at me, and I realized after a few seconds that she wasn’t going to yell at me, which made me feel strange. I think a part of me wanted her to yell and wanted her to be mad at me, just like I was with her. Finally, I spoke up and decided to be the man that I wanted her to see me as.
“So, I wanted to talk to you all day, but things… got complicated after our kiss.”
She adjusted herself on the couch and looked down at the carpet; the movement made her seem irritated. I had to keep going though, otherwise, I would lose my nerve.
“I wanted to apologize for what happened this morning, with the kiss.”
“Just stop. Please,” she cut in abruptly.
I looked probably as confused as I felt but waited for her to continue.
“I have worried all day that you would apologize to me for that kiss, and I don’t want an apology, Jimmy. Surely you know that no woman on Planet Earth wants the guy to apologize for kissing them,” she deadpanned, and sounded incredulous all at once, like I was a small child. She wasn't doing it to be harsh, more like trying to make a very important point.
I kicked my legs out until they were stretched in front of me, and leaned back in the chair. My pride was swelling a little bit that she didn’t want an apology for the kiss.
“Of course I know that no woman wants that, and I wasn’t going to apologize for the kiss, Ramsey. I mean, I am sorry in the sense that I am your boss and I shouldn't complicate things for us, but I thought long and hard about that kiss, and I didn’t do it on a whim and I wouldn't take it back.”
She was staring at me now, and I noticed a little heat that was now touching her cheeks. She practically whispered, “Then why are you apologizing?”
I looked down at my hands. “I wanted to apologize for answering the door and ruining that moment we had. Even though I could tell that you might regret the kiss from how fast you took off, I didn't regret it. I just regret how I handled things right after.”
She looked a little taken back, and sat up a little straighter. “I didn’t regret the kiss! I took off because your out-of-town best friend had just walked in, and I didn’t want to make things weird for you,” she yelled.
“You could have stayed, Ramsey, you could have waited to talk to me!” I yelled back. Feelings of abandonment were surfacing from old wounds that I thought had healed. I needed to get a hold of things, and fast.
She was leaning forward and had released some of her blanket as she continued, “Wait for what? For you to pull me aside and tell me that you regretted it because of our jobs, or because of the kids, or because of the million other reasons I know that you have? I didn’t want to be rejected, Jimmy, not again from you.”
“Me reject you?! Excuse me, wasn’t I the one who asked you out on a date and got rejected, not even a week ago?” I responded to her, just as incredulous as she was earlier with me.
She was staring at the carpet, but her face had morphed into pure rage. “I rejected you because my mom has cancer, Jimmy. I was trying to do the right thing. You have kids, I can’t just date you on a whim because I want to. I have to think about you and the kids and, more than anyone, my mom! Sorry if you can’t understand that.”
She blew out a huge breath and was also standing now, pointing at me, the blanket completely forgotten. I would appreciate the moment more if she wasn’t so angry at me.
I was about to respond but she beat me to it. “Now I am starting to regret that kiss. Everything with you is so damn complicated, Jimmy. Why is that?”
I wasn’t hurt by that statement, or rather that question, I was stunned. Then good ol’ self-preservation kicked in like an emergency raft in the ocean, and I felt the walls that had begun to recede away from my heart reinforce with more strength than ever. I stared at her, realizing that she was still standing, and I was sitting, so I stood, because I had every intention of leaving. I knew I needed to salvage what I could for our work relationship, but I emotionally no longer felt safe around Ramsey. This girl could ruin me ten times worse than Lisa ever had. I needed to get away from her and out of this situation. Clearing my throat, I attempted the best response possible.
“Well, I…I’m sorry things are complicated with me, Ramsey. Let’s just forget the kiss happened… please. I don’t think we need to discuss anything else tonight, it's late. I will see you Monday.” I gave her a nod and started towards the door.
Ramsey moved behind me, and I caught a small hint of red on her face. I made it outside, and she still hadn't sa
id anything, but she walked outside with me, in her pajamas and without the blanket. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, and her wet hair on top of her head. I hated that I was more worried about her getting sick than I was about getting the hell out of there. She looked like she was about ready to cry. Right as I reached my car door, I heard her say something. It was hard to catch because she was still by her door, but it sounded like, “Will you please come back inside?”
I had my hand on the door handle, looking at her, and waited. I wasn’t sure that was in fact what she said, but I realized that even if it was, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I saw her move forward in her bare feet across the yard, then she said again, “Please, Jimmy, just come back inside. I was pissed, but I didn’t mean what I said or how it came out. Just… let's start over… please?”
I wanted to start over. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and walk her back inside, and snuggle under that damn blanket with her while exploring more of our kissing abilities. But what I did instead was protect myself. I looked down at the ground and gently called back to her, “Good night, Ramsey.”
I opened my car door and began to drive away. In my rearview mirror, I watched Ramsey stand there in the freezing cold, with hardly anything on, watching me leave.
Once I got home, I walked into the kitchen and threw my keys down, and slumped into the breakfast nook. I wondered what the hell just happened, and how I had just lost her before I even had her. I replayed the look on Ramsey’s face tonight, and realized she was probably pissed at me to begin with, and we never did get to talk about her date with Jackson. Remembering that the asshole was probably on my couch, I walked into the living room and turned on the lights. Sure enough, he had passed out there. All previous signs of our theatre fort had been cleaned up earlier that day, so I had a clear view of Jackson. I sat on the coffee table in front of him, tempted to punch him again, but seeing that he had a pack of frozen peas draped over his face, I decided to leave him alone. After a few seconds, my phone dinged.
Ramsey: Please, Jimmy, I don’t want things to end like this with us. I didn’t mean what I said. -Please give me another chance.
I ignored it and put the phone back in my pocket.
Jackson slowly sat up and asked, “What happened with your girl, and why do you look so pissed?”
I rubbed my hands together while I looked around the room, trying to school my features. I didn’t want to answer him, I had my own questions to ask.
“What happened with you two tonight at the restaurant?”
Jackson threw his head back against the couch and let out a sigh. “I figured she would have explained all this, Jimmy… I took her out to get to know her. For your sake, brother. I had a very frank conversation with her about how big of a deal it was that she not hurt you or the kids because of what you went through.” He finished with a solemn look on his face, as though he was reliving some of the worst memories of my life with me again.
I spun the TV remote that was next to me on the coffee table, and looked at him. “Well, thanks for that.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“So, what happened over there? You look pissed,” Jackson asked, while adjusting the peas to cover more of his face.
“We argued. We couldn’t seem to get past what happened after our kiss, or why she left. She says she left to give me space and time with you. I think she left because she regretted kissing me, and wanted to back out of whatever it was we had started. She denied it, and we just kept spiraling, until she did say that she was starting to regret the kiss because everything with me is so damn complicated all the time.” I let out a frustrated, shaky breath. I kind of felt like I was on the verge of tears, which was weird because I cried when my mom died, but I didn’t cry when Lisa left. I was pissed and sad, but I didn’t cry.
“Shit, I’m sorry, man. Me showing up messed everything up.” Jackson pulled his hand down over his face and let out another loud sigh. “You know, I came here because I got spooked in the city this week. I met someone through this business deal, and she and I couldn't stop arguing over a few stupid things. They were big deals to me because they had to do with my restaurant and my business portfolio, but like always, I screwed it up. But Jimmy, this girl chewed me up and spit me out, and it scared the hell out of me.”
He said it with awe, like he revered this woman or something.
“Why did it bother you that she chewed you up and spit you out? That sounds like a normal occurrence for you, Jack,” I said with a small laugh, trying to keep it light. This guy was my brother for all the reasons that mattered; we didn’t share blood, but he was there for me when no one else was. However, Jackson had the tendency to be a jackass to the people who worked for him. So, if he got a tongue-lashing, he likely deserved it.
Jackson was staring straight forward now. “Man, I don't know, but I couldn’t sleep, and I had to get out of the city. She saw through me, and no one has ever been able to see those parts of me. I have never felt more vulnerable. That’s why I showed up on your doorstep so early, because some chick called me out on my behavior, and I got scared and wanted to hide,” he said, sounding almost relieved to get it off his chest.
I looked behind me and then back at him. I knew he needed some reassurance that he didn’t just ruin everything with Ramsey, I had done that on my own.
“Don’t worry about it, man. Things with Ramsey are complicated, and she wasn’t wrong. They are always complicated, and they were probably doomed from the start. I just keep pushing for something to be there when maybe it shouldn’t be,” I reassured him, and attempted to reassure myself.
Jackson leaned forward and put his right hand on my shoulder. “Look, Jimmy, I saw how you looked at her. Don’t give up, and if she wants to make up for the bitchy comment she made, then you should let her. She’s a good woman. She would be good for you, and for the kids.”
I felt his words settle in my stomach. I knew he was right, but my pride was like a stiff outer shell penetrating any ideas of letting her back in or accepting her pleas to talk again. I knew that I would see her on Monday, and until then, I would figure out how to talk to her again. But for now, I was going to drink with my best friend and enjoy what was left of my weekend.
I was miserable. I was miserable for a few reasons. Partly because I was upset about what happened with Jimmy. Currently, however, I was miserable because I was sick. My head felt detached from my body, my nose was running nonstop, and had turned that awful shade of red, my body was aching, and my throat was throbbing.
It didn’t help matters that my mom’s immune system was practically nonexistent, so in order to protect her, I had been shut up in my room for two days. Thank the good Lord I had an attached bathroom, or else I might be urinating in a bucket. That's how serious my mom was about me staying put. She would leave food for me by my door, and then I would have to wait five minutes before opening it.
Sunday, I chatted with my mom, and did everything in my power to stay distracted from checking my phone to see if Jimmy had texted me back or called. He hadn't.
By Monday, I was half-alive and was faced with having to call in sick. Since I didn’t want to talk to Jimmy’s voicemail, I emailed him. Tuesday came around with little change, except that I wanted out of my room; it was stuffy and dirty and filled with Kleenex. I was tempted to rent a hotel room, just for a change of scenery, but I had no money.
It was now Tuesday afternoon, I think. I mostly had lost track of the time and it felt like an eternity had passed. I did notice that I had a few texts—one from Theo, five from Laney, and zero from Jimmy, and I broke a little more. It’s not that I blamed him, what I said was terrible and hurtful, but I was emotional and angry, and people have always said hurtful, dumb things when they're angry. Jimmy himself has said hurtful and angry things to me, but I forgave him, I let it go. I was hurt because he wouldn’t give me the same opportunity. He wasn’t responding to my personal texts, but to my work emails he would respond, cordially and professio
nal. To my email about being out sick, he responded with:
“Get well soon, thank you for keeping me posted- JS."
When I got that email, I felt a hot searing pain hit my gut. He wasn’t going to let this go and he wasn’t going to give me another chance. I decided to write to him. Since he wasn’t going to give me the time of day, he would have to settle for another email. I pulled up my laptop after a hearty dose of Nyquil—or was it Dayquil? I should probably have someone watching these kinds of things for me.
Never the less, I started the email, no longer caring about his feelings.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Moving on
Jimmy,
Since you won’t give me the opportunity to apologize to you in the flesh, an email will have to do. I don’t really want to see you, and that feeling gets stronger with each passing day. You played me and messed with my emotions with how you handled things with Jackson.
I wanted to let you know that I am done. You have made your position clear.
My mom’s diagnosis gives her six months; if that is accurate, I will most likely be moving back to Chicago once she’s gone. However, I would like to come and visit with Jasmine on some weekends. I made her a promise that I intend to keep.
- Ramsey
I attempted to reread the email, but my head was pounding and every thought felt muddy and confusing. So, I just left the email there, figuring I should probably wait to send anything that serious until I could think clearly. Gently setting my laptop to the side, careful of the cord that was still plugged in, I laid my head back on the pillow and passed out.
It was Tuesday afternoon when I received a call from Carla. I was at work, desperate to keep myself busy with meetings, reviews, and checking out new vendors; basically anything to keep my mind off of Ramsey and the few unanswered text messages from her that were burning a hole in my pocket. My fingers ached from how many times I had held the phone, wanting to respond. I wanted to see her. But I didn't respond. Not being around her for three days was a new kind of hell that I had yet to experience.
