by Bonnie Dee
“You really don’t remember any of this?”
I shook my head. “Sucks to find out what a prick I was.”
“You weren’t always. You know what’s really stupid? When I ran into you at the ballpark, I felt that old crush flaring up. Guess old habits die hard.” Lisa paused, then added, “But you’re not that same guy I knew, are you?”
“Jesus, I hope not.” I truly meant it. Better to be a semidecent person with memory issues than a competent but arrogant asshole.
“You don’t seem the same. You seem a little lost and confused and…sort of pure or something. Like a sheet of paper that hasn’t been written on yet.” She reached across the table to touch my hand. “Horrible as your accident was, you gained something few people get to have—a chance for a real fresh start.”
“I guess so.” Her poetic view of me didn’t reflect my reality at all. I wasn’t fresh or new, and I definitely wasn’t pure or innocent. I was still a fuckup who blew off a date with his girlfriend’s family because he couldn’t deal.
“Thanks for telling me about Chrissy.” I changed the subject, no longer wanting to talk about the past. “How are your classes going? Are you enjoying college?”
“‘Enjoying’ is a stretch, but yeah, I am. But I’m ready to be done with school and start real life.”
I only half listened as she talked about her post-college plans. I couldn’t stop trying to pin down more memories of Chrissy like elusive butterflies. If she’d had the baby, we might have been tied together for life. But now I could hardly recall her.
I dragged my mind back to Lisa, who was waiting for a response to something she’d said. “Sounds good,” I said.
“What’s your plan? Will you go back to school?”
I shook my head. “My memory’s too sketchy.”
“Maybe just a class or two at community college? You want to do something with your life, don’t you?”
“I’m making the world a cleaner place. My job’s very Zen. Wax on. Wax off.”
“You always did take the easy way out.”
“Don’t pull any punches.”
“I won’t. Old friends should be able to be honest with one another.”
I studied Lisa’s face. She was pretty in a fresh-faced kind of way, with her big brown eyes and thick brown hair. And the expression in those eyes said her high school crush still lingered.
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “Want to order something here or go someplace else?”
“We could pick up a six-pack and go park somewhere and drink it.”
I considered. It might be nice to go someplace private with this pretty girl who had a crush on me and see what happened. After all, Anna and I had never defined our relationship. We’d never said we were exclusive.
I smiled. “That sounds really good.”
Chapter Seventeen
When I got Jason’s text saying he wouldn’t be able to make dinner, I was both annoyed and relieved. But when I got no response to repeated texts and his phone went straight to voice mail, I was annoyed. By the next day, when he remained out of reach, I was pissed, although I wasn’t sure whether it was more at Jason or my parents. What had they said to scare him off? Jason had always been good about keeping in touch. I could only think he’d been offended by my overbearing mother.
By the end of the weekend, after my parents had left and Jason still hadn’t responded to my texts and calls, I was really upset. Maybe something had happened to him, an accident or family emergency so huge that calling me was the last thing on his mind.
Or this could be his way of ending our relationship. Guys had played the “no response” card on me before. But it didn’t seem like Jason to just drop off the planet.
Maybe he’d lost his phone. Something as simple as that. No reason to be jumping to conclusions. I was thinking like a possessive, needy girlfriend, when we’d never established we were a couple or talked about being in a relationship. So what if he’d canceled last-minute dinner plans, or he’d been busy all weekend and hadn’t gotten back to me? Maybe we’d hook up again next week, or maybe not. I’d wanted our relationship to be casual and not too serious, hadn’t I?
I went to work on Monday, determined to stop fretting about Jason. I’d left Baby at pet care and wouldn’t count on him to take care of her the next day. I focused on my work, and there was plenty of it, so time flew by.
It was almost evening by the time I gathered my things and prepared to go home. No real reason for leaving so late, except, of course, I wanted to run into Jason. He hadn’t really left my mind all day but festered in my consciousness like a wound I couldn’t stop poking at. I had to talk to him before I left the building.
I started to search for him in the quiet building. Short of calling his name like he was a lost dog, I couldn’t do more than wander the corridors, poking my head into various office areas. Most were empty for the night, though there were a few straggling workaholics.
Finally, on the third floor, I heard the floor polisher whirring down the corridor. I turned a corner, and there was Jason’s familiar coverall-clad figure. His back was to me, shoulders hunched as he guided the buffer back and forth. He was listening to his MP3 player, and between that and the buffer motor, he couldn’t hear me. I felt suddenly shy about approaching him, as if he were a stranger instead of the guy who’d become my friend and lover over the past month. I reviewed what I wanted to say. I’d play it casual. The last thing I wanted was to come across as shrewish, accusing him of ignoring my texts when there may have been some good reason at play.
I caught up with Jason and tapped him on the back. He whirled to face me, and I thought I saw both pleasure and a flash of guilt in his startled eyes. He switched off the machine and pulled the buds from his ears. “Anna!”
“How’s it going?” I responded a little more tartly than I’d intended.
“Fine. Just, you know, cleaning.” His gaze slid away from mine like butter on a hot griddle.
“Where’ve you been all weekend?” Epic fail at sounding nonchalant.
“I couldn’t make dinner because I had to fill in for someone at work.” I could tell it was a lie by the way he refused to meet my eyes.
“And after that? You didn’t answer any of my texts. Did you lose your phone?”
He paused, and I mentally begged him to agree and reassure me. Yeah. I lost my phone. That’s what happened.
“No. I turned it off,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“I figured you should spend the weekend with your parents and not have to worry about me. It was way too soon to introduce me to them. It was awkward and weird for them and for you.”
“I would have appreciated if you’d called to tell me that.” I channeled my mother. That polite yet guilt-inducing tone was all hers.
“Sorry,” he said.
Silence fell between us. It was so quiet I could faintly hear the music still playing through Jason’s earphones; then we both spoke at the same time.
“I think we should—”
“This isn’t going to—”
Jason’s ghost of a smile had never looked sexier to me. I’d never wanted to kiss him more than I did right at that moment. “Go ahead,” he said.
Suddenly I couldn’t bear to use that horrible cliché: This isn’t going to work. “This isn’t going to be a pattern, is it? I can’t have you disappearing on me for days at a time whenever you feel threatened.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Sort of seemed like it. A one-line text is all I need. Just something to let me know you didn’t get hit by a truck. It’s common courtesy.”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
Another awkward silence, and the bass beat from the headphones was audible.
“What were you going to say?” I asked, my heart aching as I waited for the answer.
He gripped the handle of the floor polisher as if it were a crutch. “I think maybe we should chill things a little.”
I would not let him know how much that hurt. “If that’s what you want,” I said so lightly the words bobbed up to the ceiling like helium balloons.
“We only went on a couple of dates, and all of a sudden I’m spending a lot of nights a week at your place. It feels like we should ease off a little.” He spoke slowly as if sounding out the words.
“That makes sense.” I could be logical too. Logic was my business. Lawyers aren’t known for acting from the heart. But inside I was crumbling. When had Jason become so important to me? When had I started to care so much?
“I’m not saying we should stop seeing each other completely. Just maybe—”
“Go slower. I get it. How slow do you want to go? Once a week? Once a month? Whenever it’s convenient for you?” My calm disintegrated leaving me sharp-tongued and abrasive even though he had a valid point.
He met my gaze at last. “Please don’t be mad. This isn’t about you.”
I laughed. “It’s not you. It’s me. I know. I’ve heard that one.” I’d been dumped by a lot of short-term lovers. Somehow I’d thought Jason would be more.
He reached out and grasped my arm. “Listen, Anna. Just give me some time to process things.”
I bit my lower lip, which was starting to tremble. I’d thought I had things under control, that the “no call” weekend hadn’t bothered me that much. But now I was taking out my frustration on poor Jason, who was trying to make sense of our relationship just like I was. “You’re right. We should back off to more casual dating.”
What I really wanted was to throw my arms around him and feel his arms around me. Whenever someone gave the “brakes on” speech, it usually led to seeing less of each other until the relationship dwindled away. “I’ll call you sometime. Or you call me whenever.”
Jason moved closer and leaned to kiss me, a brief press of the lips but so potent, I trembled when he pulled away. “Be patient with me, please.”
I nodded. I could do that. I could do anything he wanted. The strength of my emotions scared the hell out of me. I hadn’t let my guard down like this ever, certainly not with Tim.
As I retreated down the hallway, Jason returned to work. I took a last glance at his shoulders stretching the coverall as he guided the polisher back and forth, and felt a pang of pure desire. A crystal-clear realization flashed in my mind: This was no longer a fling. I’d fallen hard for a guy I’d known for only a short time, a guy who was damaged in more than physical ways, and nothing about that was going to be easy.
Chapter Eighteen
I followed the buffer in a daze, letting the machine glide back and forth on autopilot. I’d been torn between pushing Anna away and clinging to her with all my might. I could see a hundred reasons why we would never work in the long run and only a few reasons for us to be together.
After my meeting with Lisa, I’d realized I should figure out who the hell I was before inflicting myself on any more women. Was I the guy who’d paid off his girlfriend when she got pregnant rather than deal with the consequences, the guy who drank too much and drove too fast? Or was I the harmless but aimless dude I’d become after the accident? My therapist used to talk about becoming an “integrated person,” and now I thought I understood what he was talking about. Could I eventually become somebody whole enough to be with Anna?
Not if I carried on like I had with Lisa the other night. Her flattering crush had given me an ego boost I’d needed after the pained look Anna wore when she introduced me to her parents. She couldn’t hide the fact I was an embarrassment to her, even if she’d never said it aloud. Lisa wanting me had felt good, so I’d gone for her. A few beers, a little making out, and then suddenly we’d been practically fucking in the backseat of her car. Shit!
I hadn’t technically cheated on Anna, since we’d never defined our relationship, but I knew I’d done wrong. Yeah, Lisa and I didn’t complete the pass, but we’d gotten pretty personal, and somehow I knew Anna would think it was a big deal, a breach of an unspoken agreement. I certainly hadn’t rushed to tell her about it.
So taking time apart to figure out my life was probably a smart decision, but by the time I’d polished twenty more feet of hallway, I realized it was also going to hurt like hell. I plugged my earbuds in and pumped up the volume. The Naked Farmers filled my head with noise and carried me through the longest night of work I’d ever slugged through. The monotony of my job used to make me feel secure. Now I was restless and couldn’t bear the boredom. I wanted to fly away, try something new and more challenging. Problem was I had no idea what that might be.
I finished after midnight, then headed for the bus stop, kicking myself for having the “brakes on” talk with Anna. I could be climbing into bed with her, holding her warm body close to mine tonight. Instead, I entered my dark, musty room. The “apartment of despair,” Katie called the place when my family helped me move in. I was alone again. Was that really what I wanted?
The next day, I went to the Opportunity Center before my shift began and talked to my caseworker about job options. Pickings were lean. I was lucky to have any job with my diminished skill set. I was hardly a prime candidate for most employers.
After that futile visit, I dropped by the survivors’ group. I sat on a metal folding chair beside Rob, greeting the usual suspects and the newbies before Maxie opened the meeting.
“Does anyone have something they’d like to talk about today?”
A new girl, whose name I’d forgotten, raised her hand. “I just wanted to say I was able to use the parking garage where my assault took place for the first time since it happened. No panic attack. I’m pretty proud of myself.”
Everyone offered congratulations and encouragement.
“I’ve got news,” Rob spoke up. “I’ve got investors and a bid in on a space. I should be able to open my store in a few months. For the first time in a long time, I feel really hopeful.”
I felt bad for the guy. Opening a hobby shop in this economy wasn’t a smart move. The idea had failure stamped all over it. But Rob sounded more positive than I’d ever heard him, so I added my congratulations to the rest.
Maxie looked at me. “What about you, Jason. Do you have anything to share?”
Uh, let’s see, I’d just taken the best chance at a relationship I’d probably ever have and more or less flushed it. “Nothing really. Just trying to figure out what I can do besides janitorial work. Not coming up with much.”
“What happened with that girl you like?” Rob blew the lid off what I’d told him in confidence.
“That’s…on hold for now.”
“She dumped you. Told you it couldn’t work out.”
I wanted to punch him. “As a matter of fact, I was the one who thought we ought to go slow. Anyway, aren’t we supposed to be talking about survivor guilt or something? My love life is my business, my personal business.” My temper went from chill to red-hot in seconds flat. I was shouting, and everyone stared.
“All right,” Maxie soothed. “You don’t have to discuss anything you don’t want to, but this must be a pretty significant event for you. Rebuilding a romantic life after trauma is no small thing. It seems you’re feeling pretty emotional about it. That’s what the group is for, to air your feelings about anything important in your life.”
“My business,” I repeated stiffly and jerked my head at Rob. “This asshole had no right to bring it up.”
Rob held his hands, palms up. “Fine. But it sounds like you broke it off because you were scared she’d boot you first.”
I lunged toward Rob, not quite coming out of my chair. I felt like an angry dog whose leash was close to snapping. “Shut the hell up.”
“Rob, stop trying to push Jason’s buttons,” Maxie cautioned.
“I’m not. Just bringing a little honesty into the discussion. He’s been dating this lawyer, somebody way out of his league. It’s only natural he’d be worried about how long it could last.”
Naomi Johnson reached over and patted my knee with one blue
-veined hand. “Don’t shortchange yourself, Jason. You’re a very nice-looking young man.”
“Is she the first person you’ve dated since your accident? Maybe you need to sort out your own shit before you bring another person into it,” Serena said.
“I’m well aware I need to sort out my shit, thank you,” I said through clenched teeth.
“What’s holding you back?” Serena pushed as relentlessly as Rob. “How do you really feel about your accident and getting injured?”
I looked to Maxie for help, but she remained silent, allowing the questioning.
“Pissed off. Okay?” I yelled. “That’s what I feel. Really pissed at myself for ruining my life, and…pissed at the world for going on like normal.”
“We all get angry. That’s natural,” Maxie said. “You’ve heard everybody here express their anger. It’s okay to be mad at life, but eventually you have to stop laying blame—whether it be on an attacker or on yourself—and start moving on.”
I gulped back the lump in my throat that suddenly choked me.
“Or the weather,” Mrs. Johnson piped up out of left field. “I’ve spent all this time hating a tornado for taking my house and killing my dog. Pretty pointless to rage against a mindless storm.”
Her comment ignited a quiet chuckle in the group, diffusing the tense silence my outburst had caused.
“I’m trying to move on. But some of the blanks from my past are starting to fill in, and I don’t like the picture of me I’m seeing,” I admitted.
“All of us need second chances.” For once, Rob’s tone wasn’t confrontational. He sounded downright friendly. “Take a hard look at who you were and then let it go.”
“Make amends,” Maxie added. “Apologize to whoever you need to, including yourself.”
Chrissy. That’s where I should start. The answer was as clear as if someone had spoken her name in my ear. If I talked to her, maybe I could do what Maxie and Rob suggested, lay the past to rest and focus on building a future.
Chapter Nineteen
Nothing’s harder than being in a holding pattern, uncertain whether your relationship is over or just taking a breather. During the week after our talk, Jason and I continued to send texts back and forth, polite little tidbits about our days, but neither of us suggested getting together. I certainly didn’t ask him to watch Baby for me. And as days slipped past, I missed him more and more. I hadn’t realized how I’d come to depend on Jason—not just to sit for my dog or fill the man-shaped hole in my bed—but as a friend. I missed his smart-assed comments, his casual wisdom when I started to tie myself into knots over some real or imagined worry. Jason was a calming influence over me.
