by Ashley Munoz
“These kids made fun of me today at school.”
An anger that I didn’t know existed rose to the surface like a foreign object in the ocean. I didn’t realize how protective I had become over her and Sammy. I wanted to tell her to cut their ponytails off with scissors, but I knew that wasn’t the parental type of advice. Then, like thunder in the middle of freaking winter, that thought hit me. Did I want to be parental with the kids? Did I want to be parent-like in any way?
I felt my cheeks get hot, and I sucked down some more of my chocolate milkshake as the idea of being parental towards the kids wiggled its way through my heart like a fat little worm. I ended up not giving her any advice; instead, I just told her, “Jasmine, whatever they said doesn’t matter, because they're jealous of you. Jealousy only makes us say things we don’t actually mean.”
Jasmine sniffled and swiped at a few tears. “They said that Evan Michelson was only my friend because he felt sorry for me… because I don't have a mother." Holy shit. Kids were mean.
I tried to rein in my feelings and tried even harder not to demand Jasmine tell me those kids’ names, but I wasn't doing so great with it all. I turned to fully face her, wrapped her in my arms, and squeezed her tight. She was shaking as more tears fell.
"Jasmine, you listen to me. We don’t get to choose what kind of life we’ll lead, or what happens to us in it. Life isn't fair, but it's the people who find the good in the bad, the beauty in the pain, and the heart in the heartbreak, that win in life. You can't let what those girls said make you upset. You do have a mother. She's out there somewhere, and for some reason, she needed to leave. I don't know why, but I do know that she left you with the best daddy on earth and because of that, you've already lived ten times the kind of life that they ever will." Jasmine sniffed and hugged me tighter.
I held her until she moved to get up, then I braided her hair and told her jokes.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
Jasmine laughed. “I don't know, to get to the other side?”
I shook my head. “Nope, sorry.” I let the ‘P’ pop for emphasis. “The chicken clearly crossed the road because chickens can't tell the difference between dirt.” Jasmine half-turned from her crisscross applesauce position to look at me.
“Huh?” she asked with an eyebrow lifted.
“You know... as in, the chicken didn’t cross the road, it was just crossing the field… but everything was made of the same substance, so it didn't know it was crossing a road,” I explained, but Jasmine's eyebrow hadn't lowered. I looked over to Sammy for help. “You get it, don't you?”
Sammy's face broke into a smile, and he fell into hysterics. “No, why would I know why a chicken would cross a road?”
I let out a sigh. “You guys don't know the value of good jokes.” I shook my head back and forth while securing Jasmine's hair. She had her mouth covered as she stifled a laugh. I looked over at Sammy, and he did the same thing. After a few seconds of them giggling, Jasmine broke into a loud laugh.
“That's the worst joke I've ever heard.” Now they were both holding their bellies, laughing. At least I made them laugh.
Driving home that afternoon, I felt apprehensive as I thought about my time with the kids. I wanted to know my role with Jasmine and Sammy. I wanted to know what kind of freedoms I had, and what I was allowed to say. If I could give them advice on school and make them laugh with weird jokes, or if I could plan things to do with them without running it past Jimmy. I wanted to come over to the house and do art projects with them and watch more princess movies. But I didn't know if was allowed to.
I took a deep breath as I turned onto my street and tried to let those worries go. It was too early, much too soon, and I still barely knew them. More importantly, they still barely knew me. Jasmine seemed to see me as a friend, but how quickly would that change if she knew that I had romantic feelings towards her dad? Sobering up to the idea of chilling the heck out, I put those thoughts and concerns out of my head. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask Jimmy to define who I was to the kids or to me when I just asked him for friendship for the next six weeks.
Six freaking weeks!
I made my way inside and sought out my mom. I found her, looking worn out, while reading in her recliner. My gut twisted with worry. She hadn't looked that worn out when I last saw her. I hated that I was away from her, and that she might have needed me. I tried to rationalize that I couldn't help it, and I would have made things worse if I stayed.
"Hey Mama, how are you feeling?" I bent down to hug her, but she held up her hand.
“Are you symptom-free? Because you sound like you're congested,” my mother argued while watching me skeptically. I did still have a bit of a runny nose, and felt tired, so I stood up.
"I'm still a bit tired," I admitted, while moving towards the kitchen.
I heard movement in the living room as I pulled a glass from the cupboard.
“So, how did things go over at Jimmy's?” She had made her way towards me and was now leaning against the counter. I turned to look at her. She wore a light pink tracksuit and her thin hair was hidden by a hat. Her brown eyes seemed excited as she waited for me to reply.
“Things were good. Although I'm not sure how I feel about you pawning me off on him." I gave her the side eye as I filled my cup with water from the fridge.
“You could have infected me!” she argued. I laughed while sipping my water.
"I'm kidding, Mom. It was fine. Actually, better than fine." I turned to face her while reaching for a tea bag from above the counter. “Now, do not get your hopes up, okay?” I implored her while setting the kettle in place. I turned to see her gather her hands in front of her chest and a smile break out on her face.
"I won't, I promise!"
I lifted one shoulder, suddenly very aware of her scrutiny and suddenly very shy. “Jimmy and I…” I stopped and held my breath. I hadn't thought through all the problems with telling my mother this, all the hope it might create.
"Yes?" she demanded, her body shifting, and her foot started tapping.
I let out the breath I was holding, and just decided to let it all out, consequences be damned. “We like each other.”
When she didn't respond or say anything, I added, “Romantically.”
Her eyes lit up and danced with excitement. “I knew it. God answers prayers, he always does. I was just telling Carolyn about how I was praying for the two of you, and—”
“But!” I cut her off while holding up my hand. Otherwise, that prayer chain conversation would have lasted a good fifteen minutes.
“We agreed to be friends for six weeks before either of us do anything about our feelings,” I finished, feeling confident and proud of myself for being so sensible.
My mother deflated. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile fell away. “Why would you do something like that?”
The kettle went off, and I busied myself with preparing the tea. “Mom, we barely know each other,” I tried to reason.
"So, what! When you know, you know,” she argued back gaining some steam. She looked very much alive and not weak or worn at all, with her hands on her hips and her face set firmly.
I tried so hard not to roll my eyes or act like a petulant child, like I normally tended to act whenever my mother argued with me.
I placed my hands on the counter and looked at her. She'd moved to the counter to fix herself a cup of tea. Suddenly my heart ached, like usual, because the sight of seeing my mom do ordinary things always broke it in a weird and happy way. And because it felt like we were caught in a horrible nightmare, where some huge hourglass was losing sand faster than it should and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold off the tears that always surfaced when I thought about how little time we had left together. I fixed my gaze back on my mother and cleared my throat. “I know that you don't totally agree with what Jimmy and I are doing, but can you just trust me?”
She turned to look
at me. She had a small smile on her face, as she stirred her tea. “Of course I can.” She lifted her cup to her mouth and took a sip. I was about to turn away when she added, “But more importantly, I trust God. He will fix this and the both of you."
With a flick of her wrist towards me, she sauntered back to the living room. I smiled at my mother’s spunky behavior. Every day, that she made jokes about God fixing me was a good day.
I grabbed my duffel bag and headed for my room, but stopped just inside my doorway. My bed was freshly-made with a vase of flowers next to it. All the Kleenex and dishes were cleaned up and the carpet had been vacuumed. I spun in a small circle, taking in all the beautiful lines on the carpet and the dust-free TV. Someone had cleaned my room. I stuck my head back into the hall and yelled at my mom.
"Mom, did you ask Carolyn from down the street to clean my room?" I knew she couldn't have done it, so who? I heard my mother's muffled reply as I half-hung out my door.
"Jimmy called a service. The whole house is clean, you didn't notice until now?"
I glanced into the bathroom, a little way across from my room. Sure enough, it was sparkling clean, like “brand new house” kind of clean.
"I didn't notice, but that was really nice of him," I yelled back. You'd think it was implied that I hadn't noticed until now, but my mother always required an answer to any question she asked out loud.
The fact that Jimmy had called a service to clean my house and used his own money did something to me. I never knew what was physically going on with my heart because I couldn't see it, but if it were possible for a heart to lurch or jump, mine just had. I hated that it made me want to drive back to his house and kiss the heck out of him. Paying to have someone's house cleaned was the sweetest thing ever. I bit my thumb nail as I sat on my bed and looked at the beautiful daises that sat on the table next to me.
I knew he liked me, but I didn’t know to what degree. Did he just want to date me, or want sex, or a fling? I knew that Jimmy had abandonment issues from his ex, and was probably one of those guys who never wanted to get married again. That thought made me want to punch his ex-wife in the boobs. The idea that Jimmy only wanted something temporary with me wasn’t enough for me to stay put after Mom. I would need more than that. I would need Laney. I would need someone who loved me because I would be broken and shattered once I lost my mother. I let out a heavy sigh and decided that now was the moment I would put my feelings into an envelope and mail them to Jimmy.
I pulled the leather-bound journal out of the drawer next to me and flipped through the pages until I landed on an entry that I made on September twelfth—it was the night I came home from babysitting Jimmy’s kids. I looked over the black ink that filled the page, and as I read the words, they filled my soul and mind like a mixture of concrete. I knew it when I had the idea to give each other the envelopes that this was what I would give him, because even if he couldn’t give me what I wanted or what I hoped for, I would be going all-in, knowing I gave him a piece of me that summarized what I wanted. I tore the page out of the journal, careful to keep it intact. I folded it up and fished out an envelope. I placed the white envelope in the larger manila envelope and walked outside to place it in the mail. It felt good, final somehow, that no matter what, at the end of this, he would know.
As I was walking back up to the house, I heard brakes squeak behind me. I turned and saw a silver sports car pulling up to the curb of my house. I stood there, watching to see who was in the car, but the windows were so darkly-tinted that I couldn’t make them out. Finally, the driver door opened and a short redhead popped up. I smiled as my best friend materialized in front of my eyes.
I started towards her, but when she caught sight of me, I heard her yell, “Oh no, you wipe that smile off your face right now! I’m here because I am pissed off.”
Oh shit. I never called or texted her back! I started to panic as I watched her. This was going to be bad. She had a small bag that she had thrown over her shoulder, and a purse, with a big pillow under her arm. She made her way towards my house, but walked right past me and went inside.
So bad.
I walked into the house after Laney and shut the door. She was busy hugging my mom and telling her how good she looked. Then she stood up, glared at me, and walked to my bedroom. This was not going to be pleasant.
I followed after her and shut the door. Laney had her arms crossed and she was facing the window. She wore a tight charcoal gray pencil skirt with white converse shoes, and her white button-up work shirt was wrinkled. She didn’t look like herself at all. Laney wore high heels, even when she was running to the corner store to grab milk.
Her shaky voice filled the room. “Did you know that you are the only best friend that I have ever had?” She slowly turned to face me. “When you had to move, I understood why, but I don’t think you understood what it did to me, Ramsey. I had no one. Sure, Megan and Kiera are there to hang out or go to dinner with, but I had no one to talk to about my family, or about my crazy father, or my insane mother, or the guy…” She broke off, looking down at the floor, and that's when I saw how red her face was getting. I hurt, and I hated that I did this to her.
“I told you about him. Things changed between us, and I don’t know? I'm just so confused, and I needed you, Ramsey. I needed to talk to you. I was there for you with the Jimmy stuff, I was there for you and you weren’t there for me. I called you about a million times, over the past five days, and you haven’t returned my calls once!”
She was yelling now, and I totally deserved it. I was holding back tears because she was right. I had just ignored her because I was sick, and exhausted, and busy with Jimmy.
“You can’t do that to me, Ramsey. My biggest fear with you moving was that you would forget me eventually. That you would just stop returning my calls and we would slowly stop being friends. You are all I have! You can’t do that to me,” she half-sobbed. She had moved to the bed now and I sat down next to her. I wrapped my arms around her and held tight. We sat in silence for a while, both of us crying, then I finally found my voice, as shaky as it was. I had to explain this to her, but then it hit me. Laney and I had fought before, but this time, it was different. The way she looked, the sound of her voice, her anger…
“Laney, what’s really going on?” I whispered.
It was quiet for a second or two, then she hung her head and whispered, “I think I’m in love. But I hate him, and it will never work, and I stole his car to come here, so I might go to jail.”
She started crying all over again. I held her and rubbed her back. I didn’t want to touch that one yet, so I started trying to mend my side of things.
“Laney, I am so sorry. I don’t have an excuse. I was so sick, and my mom couldn't take care of me. Jimmy came and got me, and I was at his house recovering. Then I went back to work, and it's just been a crazy week. But that’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have done that to you.” She was still half sobbing, so I knew this was going to take a while. I kissed her head and stood up. "I'll be right back."
"Get the ice cream, Rams. Okay?" Laney said, catching my arm before I got too far away.
" You got it," I assured her and left the room.
My arms were full of Kleenex, ice cream, and two water bottles when I heard my phone ringing. It was still on the kitchen table where I had left it. I peered over the bundle in my arms and saw that it was Jimmy and although I didn’t want to ignore my best friend, I also didn’t want to ignore my boss.
“Hello.”
“Hey, just checking up on you, and I have something for you. Would it be okay if I stopped by real quick to drop it off?” Jimmy asked, sounding like he was on a speaker, or inside of one.
“I am doing better, feeling much better, but… um… my best friend Laney just got here from Chicago, so I don’t know if it’s a good idea to stop by,” I replied, a little concerned. I bit my lip and shifted the ice cream in my arms, not sure what he wanted to give me, but trying to be the devoted best frien
d and not get excited about it.
“Oh, is everything okay?” Jimmy asked with a hint of worry in his voice.
“Yeah, I mean, no. We has some things to work through, but she is okay,” I assured him.
“Okay, I understand, I am actually on your street, though, so would it be okay if I just left it in the mailbox?”
I smiled at that. He just had a way of making me feel like a priority to him, like he would follow through with me, for me. “If you are already on my street, then just go ahead and swing by, Laney will understand. I’ll even ask if she wants to meet you.”
Just then, I saw his black Tahoe pull up, and he jumped out. I walked back to my room to tell Laney what was going on, and to dump the ice cream and goodies. She didn’t want to meet Jimmy right at that moment, but I didn’t blame her. She had black lines running down her face from her makeup, so I told her to change into some PJs and get into my bed.
I walked back out to the living room and opened the door for Jimmy. He was so tall, he always seemed to fill up the door frame completely. He smiled at me and I had to remind myself that we were friends. Just friends.
“Hey, glad you are feeling better,” he said, as he leaned in for a hug. A hug. Because that’s what friends did; they hugged each other when they saw one another.
“Thanks” I muttered into his shoulder as he pulled me closer. He leaned back and pulled out a silver key attached to a keyring and handed it to me. “Here, this is your key to my house, for whenever you need it.”
He must have grabbed his house key from Theo already, which is who I had left it with. “Thanks, you really don’t need to give me a house key, Jimmy.”
He smiled. “I know, but I think you should have one. Jackson has one too, so it's a friend's thing. Even though he didn’t use it the last time he came over.” I smiled at that and it made me feel better. Jimmy gave me a weird look as he looked over his shoulder at Laney’s stolen car. “Uh, speaking of Jackson, why is his car here?”
I laughed. “Uh, no, wrong car. That is this guy that Laney likes, or hates. I’m still not totally sure about it, but that’s not Jackson’s.”
