by K Larsen
God, the bedroom. He is amazing. Just thinking about the things he makes me want to do turns me on. Knowing those things will actually happen gets me wet. I’m always ready and willing and he takes full advantage of it. His smell, his taste, his muscles, I’m an addict and I can't get enough. I never want to be able to get enough. The way he loves me is straight out of a romance novel and I’m soaking up every moment I can. I feel pulled to him, connected to his soul. I need him to function. It takes me a while but I finally feel okay letting myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I do deserve him.
Jake
It’s amazing how someone can be a stranger one day and weeks later be effortlessly entwined in your life. A fixture. It seems strange to think there was a time before I knew Laney. A time before I knew that she doesn't drink soda because every time she takes a sip, she hiccups. It’s the most ridiculous thing, but lo and behold, every single time she takes a sip it makes her hiccup or how Claire hates tomatoes but loves ketchup. How is that even possible? One’s made from the other. How did I never know that they both are hellacious in the mornings. Claire is Laney’s mini-me in almost all ways, including the way she’s taken to me. I love her spirit and the glint in her eye. She’s sweet and a drama queen all in one.
Summer’s beginning to give up her fight and Claire’s in her second week back at school. Laney and I have been almost inseparable for the last two months. After a month of coming over after Claire went to bed I finally convinced Laney to let me in a little more regarding Claire. She was hesitant at first but it all worked out and the three of us are happily rolling along together. Even Owen has come around to Laney and Claire. He’s generally not someone parents want to subject their kids to but he’s my best friend and he genuinely likes Laney so he tries extra hard to behave when Claire is present.
I’m waiting at Starbucks to meet a new client who was referred to me. The door swings open and in walks Ana. “Hi, Jake!” she calls to me. I drag my hand down my face. I don't have time for this. Ana is my ex-girlfriend. The girl I followed from South Carolina to Maine. The girl who broke my heart eight years ago, just months after moving here together, citing my dreams and goals weren't ambitious enough for her.
“Ana,” I clip. She pulls out the chair opposite me and sits. “Now isn't a good time, I’m meeting a client,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I know, it’s me,” she smiles. Shock stuns me. Bob had set up the meeting. I knew I was meeting a Ms. Jones, but Jones is a common last name. I never would have agreed had I known it was this Ms. Jones.
“Ana. I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I tell her.
“Oh come off it, Jake, it’s been years and I have a rather large addition I want done and done right,” she argues with pleading eyes. She’s changed a lot in the last eight years. Her hair has silver streaks in it that glisten in the sun and she’s got little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She looks tired but as always pulled together.
“Fine,” I resign.
“So, how’ve you been?” she asks.
“Great. Let’s talk about what you want done and keep this professional though okay?”
She sighs at me but nods her head. We sit and have coffee, talking about the project at hand for an hour. When we’ve worked out a walk-thru, tentative timeline, and I’m confident I have all the details that I need for now, I let her know that I need to get going. We stand together chitchatting as we make our way outside.
Delaney
Can't I just find one goddamned parking spot!? I’m supposed to meet Amelia for lunch in ten minutes but finding a parking spot in the Old Port is like finding a nugget of gold in a mountain. I put my blinker on and decide to make a left onto Exchange Street to see if there’s a spot there. I’m sitting at the stop sign waiting to make my left-hand turn when Jake walks out of the Starbucks on the corner. All the frustration over parking leaves my body, replaced by a smile. I’m about to honk and wave when a tall slender woman follows him out. He turns to her and she gestures to her car and they start walking together. I try not to jump to conclusions, I really do.
But over the last few months, I’ve met all his friends and I know he has no family. So, who is this woman? A horn honks behind me, jarring me out of my thoughts and I make the left onto Exchange before the road-raged idiot behind me does something terrible. They are walking only a few feet in front of me when they finally stop. I stop the car in the middle of the one way street, unable to tear my eyes away from them. She reaches her arm around his neck and pulls him close into a hug and to my surprise he wraps his arms around her waist. I put the car in park, unable to catch my breath. She pulls back, taps his nose while laughing, and then kisses him quickly.
My car door is opening and my legs are moving but I don't recall my brain telling my body to do any of this. I get two steps away from Jake’s back and I know I can't take one more step towards him because all that’s waiting is hurt. The tall, beautiful woman stares at me for a moment before Jake catches her gaze and turns to see what she does.
“Laney?” He sounds like everything's fine or normal. What the fuck.
“How…how could...why?” I’m stuttering and I can feel my eyes welling up with tears. My legs are shaking. I’m terrible at confrontations like these.
“Laney, no…it’s not what...” he starts but I cut him off.
“STOP! I don't want excuses. I really don't. I just thought you were mine. I thought we were something,” I weep at him.
Before he can say anything, I turn and start to jog to my car, leaving him stunned on the sidewalk.
“Laney, stop!” he yells, moving now. But I don't stop. I’m almost to my car. I’m almost away. He grabs my arm and twirls me around into his chest.
“Goddamnit, Laney, let me explain,” he growls. His eyes are scared and desperate.
I rip out of his embrace, take the two steps needed to get in the car, and slam my door shut, locking it. He’s banging on the window like a crazy man. I want to hear him out, kind of, but the rational side says don't believe the lies, you witnessed with your own two eyes, trust that. He’s a cheater. I throw the car in drive and punch the gas, leaving him in the middle of the street. It feels like someone took a knife, edgy and dull, and cut a hole in my chest. I’m gasping for air but I can't seem to catch my breath. I text Amelia that I can't make lunch and go home, curling up in the room that Jake built. “FUCK!” I scream out as fat tears roll down my face.
* * * * *
Please don't say we're done when I'm not finished
I could give so much more. I've been waiting too long to give this up-
to give you up. Please Laney just hear me out.
Jake’s text pushes me over the edge emotionally. I can’t deal with this. I just…can’t. Fuck off.
Laney don't do this.
I know what I saw Jake. Please just leave me alone now.
I promptly delete his number from my phone in an effort to make myself feel like I have any sort of control over the situation. His absence is suffocating. It feels like I’m drowning, my heart torn from my chest, chewed up and spat out, leaving nothing but a scar in my chest cavity.
It’s been two weeks since our confrontation in the street. He’s sent flowers twice and he’s stopped by three times, begging me to answer the door and let him in. One night he even sat out there for four hours promising me that he wouldn't leave until I heard him out. I had called my dad and asked him to get Jake to leave then promptly put my ear buds in and cranked up some music to wash out my feelings.
He keeps texting me, trying new approaches to try and get my attention. Little things like, “I miss the way you hiccup when you drink soda,” “I love your smile,” “You’re beautiful,” and “You’re my heart.” If he was trying to woo me, it would have been some great woo, but he’s not. He’s trying to make me forget what I saw and glaze over it with a lie. As the month goes on, I learn to live half a life. I wish I had missed the first time we met.
Jake
After that day, I told Ana there was no way in hell was I going to take the job and referred her to someone else. She even offered to call Laney for me and explain but honestly I can’t imagine that going over well at all, so I passed. I pace around my house at night without purpose. My chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. Owen thinks I’m losing my mind and maybe I am. I thought I was broken-hearted over Ana eight years ago but this, this is far worse. I stare at the picture on my mantle from the Fourth of July and try not to cry. How did we fall apart so quickly?
I had Ginny morph our two sparkler pictures together so that it’s one picture and it looks like Laney and I are standing near each other both drawing hearts in the air. The two hearts intersect, overlapping, entwined. It came out great. Laney was right, Ginny is a genius with the camera. I was saving the picture for the holidays, to give to Laney, but last week, when it was clear she was done with me, I unwrapped it and put it up on the mantle as a reminder of why I keep trying. I will not give up. I will find a way back in to make this right. I have to, life doesn't feel whole without her in it anymore.
“Come on, man, come out with me tonight,” Owen pleads.
“I don't feel like it,” I clip.
“You can't stay home and harass Laney by text all night.”
“Fuck you, Owen,” I spit.
“Sorry. But come on…you need to get out. You can pine Laney tomorrow night.”
In anger or maybe just because of depression, I kick Owen out and spend another night wallowing in loneliness and dreaming of Laney.
* * * * *
Text exchange between Owen and Amelia:
We have to do something Jake has been reduced to a sandy vagina
Laney’s not much better
Any ideas?
Maybe....
Meet me for lunch? Tomorrow?
Deal
* * * * *
I decide it’s time to get Laney’s stuff to her and I can’t bring myself to just leave it at her doorstep without a word, so I shoot a message to Ame to see if maybe she will bring it to her.
Hey
Hey how are you?
Shitty, listen I have some of Laney’s stuff can I get it to you?
Bring it to her.
I tried. She won't even yell at me from the door now.
Shit. Yeah. When and where?
I can drop it at your house, tomorrow?
Ok. Six?
Sure. Thanks.
Delaney
“Amelia, I can't,” I choke out.
“Laney. Honestly, you are being the biggest asshole I know. Why wouldn't you at least hear the man out? It’s OBVIOUS he loves you. Jesus, look around, you look like you live in a florist shop!” She’s trying to be encouraging, I know, but sometimes I don't want encouragement, I want my sister to commiserate with me. “Laney, it’s been over a month, a miserable month, and the man hasn't given up on you yet...what more do you need?” she pleads with me.
“What more do I need? How about someone who means what they say, how about someone who doesn't cheat, someone I can trust!” I snap.
“Laney, all I’m saying is to give him a chance to explain,” she petitions.
“Why, Ame? Why should I?”
“Maybe what he has to say is worth hearing,” she argues.
“And you would know why?”
She sighs and looks away from me.
“I talked to him,” she admits.
“Traitor.” I carry the box that Jake’s returned upstairs to my room. It sits packed on the floor of my bedroom. I can't open it. I don't want to admit that he’s really returned my things. I kick it on my way back downstairs.
“Laney, do you remember that really ridiculous guideline we wrote for you? The one about the principles of dating Delaney, what makes Delaney tick, and dating Delaney?”
“Yeah, I still have it somewhere,” I tell her.
“Go get it,” she urges. I search through an old photo album until I find the page where the infamous “Delaney’s School of Hard Knocks” lives and bring it to Ame.
“Let’s revisit this,” she declares.
In a brilliant moment on our parts we’d written this ridiculous course offering as a joke, to remind me of what I want and deserve in a relationship. This of course was written fresh on the heels of my divorce.
Delaney’s School of Hard Knocks - Summer Course
Dating Delaney 301
The Principles of Dating Delaney
Prerequisites include:
Honest
Attractive
Faithful
Smart
Affectionate
Funny
Responsible
Family oriented
Go-with-the-flow kinda person
Dating Delaney 302
What Makes Delaney Tick
Prerequisites are that one must:
Be good with money
Love movies
Love music
Love kids
Like travelling
Like eating out
Be willing to wash silverware
Be willing to pamper me
Be good in the sack
Be willing to dance
Like going out
Like staying in
Love good friends and cookouts
Be taller than 5’10”
Resemble Jason Statham
Be a good friend
Sing in the car
Dating Delaney 303
Maintaining the Relationship Through Bettering Yourself
By the end of the course you will:
Own your own home
Have a nice vehicle
Have a steady job
Have a decent salary
In these courses, you will learn that Delaney is 90% right in life and you should just submit to that fact. Also, you will gain deeper understanding into the needs and desires of her life. It will help you progress forward with her, and let’s face it--the only important relationship you maintain in life is with her (something you learned in Dating Delaney 101). By the end of this program we expect that you will know what makes Delaney tick, how to avoid pushing her buttons, and how to truly make her happy--which in turn will make your life better, because when Delaney’s happy, you’re happy. Your grades will be based on midterms and finals.
** The fall semester will offer such classes as Learning When to Shut Up, Asking for Directions, Chick Flicks 101, and The Art of Loading the Dishwasher (Lab Fee Extra)
When she’s finished reading it all out loud to me she hands the sheet to me, still giggling.
“I think you will find that, although we devised this as a joke, Jake totally meets all the qualifications of your dream man, which honestly neither one of us actually believed existed.”
“He looks nothing like Jason Statham,” I state definitely.
“And you aren't right 90% of the time, either,” she glares at me.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
After Amelia leaves, I sit and write for the rest of the day and well into the night. By the end of the week, I’ve managed to throw myself so far into my work that I finish my book and start a new one. I’ve run so hard and so much over the last two weeks that I’ve lost four pounds and my head still isn't clear. The dull ache in my chest won't subside. My anxiety won't let me rest. I keep thinking about the box in my room and that stupid guide to dating me and Amelia’s words.
My heart breaks over the course of this week again as the flower deliveries have slowed down and the texts have lessened until one day I realize that I haven't gotten a text from Jake in a full forty-eight hours. Panic rips through me. This is
what I wanted, but it feels final now. Is he really gone? Do I really want that? Do I have a choice, even? My heart cracks, if possible, even more.
At three-thirty, Claire gets off the bus and I slap on my happy face as I see her come up the driveway.
“Hi, Mum!”
“Hi, babe, how was school today?” I ask.
“Good good. Can I have TV time before homework?” she asks and gives me her best pout.
“Sure, babe,” I relent. I have no fight in me anymore. She starts for the couch then abruptly stops and turns back to me. “Mail,” she says as she hands me the stack and once again heads for the couch.
“Thank you!” I call out after her. I sit at the kitchen island and sort through the mail: bill, bill, bill, junk, and a mystery envelope. I slit the top open with my finger and pull out the contents.
Laney,
The woman you saw me with was a new client, who also happens to be my ex-girlfriend, the one I moved to Maine with. She set up the appointment with Bob and I only had the client’s last name. I had no idea I was meeting her. I walked her to her car to be polite. I also gave her a hug to be polite. She kissed me. I did not kiss her back. She surprised me. I would never kiss her back. I hadn’t seen her in eight years since the week she dumped me. Laney, I need you to believe me. I need you to know that I’ve been miserable every second of every day for the last forty-nine days. That’s one thousand one hundred seventy-six hours of wishing you were here with me, that I’d wake up and find you lying next to me in the morning, that I’ve missed you and wanted you and thought of nothing else but how to get you back.
