by Bonnie Dee
Reading texts wasn’t the same as talking to him. I missed the sound of his voice, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to call. He was the one who’d suggested a temporary break, so I should wait for him to contact me. But it was hard to lie in my bed at night with Baby snoring near my ear and know Jason wouldn’t be joining us later. He wouldn’t walk softly into my room, slip out of his clothes, and slide under the covers, his flesh heating me through and his arms pulling me against his hard body.
The next weekend, I decided I needed a girls’ night out. I lined up Cindy and a couple of her friends I’d come to know since moving to Columbus. We went out for drinks and dancing. Get drunk enough and dance fast enough and it’s possible to escape sadness for a while. It didn’t hurt that a group of hot guys joined us at our table. Flirting was a good distraction, but at the end of the evening, I didn’t want to take home Mr. Tall, Dark, and Too Hot for His Own Ego. I left the club alone.
At home, Baby greeted me as if I’d been gone three years instead of three hours. She leaped up and tried to climb me like a jungle gym so she could lick my face. Instead of breaking the habit like I should, I reinforced it by picking her up and letting her cover me with kisses. But even doggie adoration wasn’t enough. My fingers itched to dial Jason and ask him to come over. I was almost drunk enough to give in to temptation, but pride stopped me.
Call it fate, karma, or kismet, I had an unusual encounter the following day. I was shopping in the whole foods market when I ran into Tim. He had a market basket full of wholesome-looking foods on one arm and his other around a blonde woman.
His eyes widened when he saw me. “Anna! How are you?”
“Fine. Busy. How about you?”
“Oh, you know me. I work too many hours and still I’m never quite finished. But Kim here is helping me learn to slow down and enjoy life a little more.” He smiled fondly at the pixieish woman from whom wafted the scent of sandalwood.
“Well, that’s great.” My smile must have looked more like a corpse’s rictus than real happiness. Pixie Kim returned my smile but looked a little nervous as we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
It’s never fun to run into an ex in a public place when you’re not expecting it, and although I’d never felt any deep sorrow over the loss of Tim, the fact that he seemed happy to change for Pixie pissed me off. When we’d dated, he hadn’t been the type to eat nonprocessed anything, and he had made fun of patchouli-wearing New Age types.
As Tim talked about himself—something he’d always been good at—I realized he appeared more relaxed and happier than I’d ever seen him. When he laughed over some comment Kim made, his face lit up.
I, on the other hand, felt like crap. Hungover from my night out, unwashed, unkempt, and unhappy because my significant other was MIA—and because I didn’t even know if Jason really was my boyfriend or just a guy I’d dated for a while. Were we on or off? What was he thinking, feeling, expecting from me? Was some of the blame for his sudden need for self-examination mine because of the way I’d acted toward him around my parents? Had I made him feel diminished, or were his issues strictly his own?
Too many questions, and I’d lost track of what Tim was saying. Not that it mattered. He was fully capable of carrying on a conversation all by himself.
“Well, it was great to see you, but I have to get going,” I interrupted at last. “Nice to meet you, Kim.” Kim and Tim. How adorable.
“Shanti.” The girl actually put her palms together and bowed at me—so alternative lifestyle, so not Tim’s style. Only apparently now it was. The guy was actually wearing sandals over socks.
I beat a hasty retreat from the shop, grabbing a few more items I didn’t need and forgetting the ones I’d come for in my hurry to get to the checkout.
I breathed easier once I got out of the store. That’s when the idea of fate kicked in. Running into Tim had been like God sending a lightning bolt. Seeing my ex and witnessing the changes in him now that he was apparently truly in love made me consider Jason in a new light. I’d been happy with Jason, honestly, truly, effortlessly happy, a rare thing in this world. To let him slip away because of fear, on either my part or his, would be crazy.
Pride be damned, I’d call him and tell him how I felt.
****
Tracking down Chrissy’s phone number was harder than I expected. I didn’t feel like I could ask Lisa for it considering our make-out session, after which I hadn’t called her again. Cell numbers aren’t easy to get unless someone gives them to you. I finally ended up calling Chrissy’s mom, who still lived in Pickens.
“Hi, Mrs. Atkins? This is Jason Reitmiller.” My pulse was racing, and I half expected her to hang up on me. Had she known about Chrissy’s abortion? I couldn’t imagine Chrissy telling her, but she might have.
There was a pause, then, “Jason. It’s so…unexpected to hear from you. How are you doing? I heard about your accident.”
“I’m okay.” I rushed on, anxious to get to the point. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with some people from my past, piece together some holes in my memory. I wondered if you could give me Chrissy’s cell number?” Another pause followed, so I added, “Or give her my number and she can contact me if she wants to.”
“Sure, Jason. I could do that.” Mrs. Atkins’s voice was suddenly so familiar. A memory flashed in my head. A moment at the Atkins’s dinner table. Mrs. Atkins serving slices of ham so fragrant I could almost smell them now, telling how she and Chrissy’s dad had met, and all of us laughing at the stupid pickup line she claimed he’d used. I’d looked at Chrissy and, in that moment, thought I could marry her and this would be my life for the next fifty years.
I realized Mrs. Atkins was waiting for me to respond. “That’d be great. Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
It took a couple of days, but Chrissy did get back to me. The call came while I was filling the toilet paper dispenser in one of the men’s johns at work. Getting out my phone to answer, I nearly dropped it in the toilet.
“Jason, it’s Chrissy Atkins.” The voice didn’t stir an ounce of recognition in me. I waited for it, but no flood of memories came.
“Hi. How are you?” Even though I’d rehearsed what I’d say if she called, I was suddenly tongue-tied.
“Okay. How are you doing? I meant to check in after you came out of your coma, but then… I just didn’t.”
“That’s all right. I probably wouldn’t have known you anyway. My memory’s kind of Swiss cheese. Just a second, okay?” I walked out of the men’s room, peeling off my gloves, leaned against the wall in the hallway and took a deep breath before resuming the call.
“Chrissy, I talked to Lisa and she helped me remember some stuff, about you and me back in high school. I want to apologize for being a douche back then, for the way I treated you and how I handled the, uh, the abortion.”
Silence followed. I started to wonder if I’d lost her when I put her on hold.
“Well. It was a long time ago,” she said at last. “I’ve put it behind me. You should too.”
“It may be old news to you, but it’s new to me. I’m uncovering bits of my past and finding out I don’t much like the guy I was.”
Another pause. “We all do stupid things when we’re young. I’m a different person now too.” She exhaled, a soft little sigh. “Honestly, I’d rather not talk about it or think about it. It was a hard thing to do, but there’s no point dwelling on it, you know?”
“Sure.”
I hadn’t been supportive back then, but I could make up for it a little now. If Chrissy didn’t want to be reminded, I should respect that. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. So, what have you been up to since high school?”
“I went to Hollingsworth. It’s a private college in Delaware. But I dropped out after about a couple of years. About the time you had your accident, as a matter of fact. I was home visiting my parents when I heard. I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“My own fault.” I was ready to cha
nge the subject and, quite honestly, ready to end the uncomfortable call. Other than an apology, I didn’t have much to say to Chrissy. We weren’t going to reminisce about good old days or chat about our futures. “Anyway, thanks for returning my call, and, again, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. It really is, Jason. I prefer to remember the good times we had rather than the way it ended. You were my first love. First loves don’t usually last, but there’s something really special about them.”
She sounded so wistful, it burned me that I couldn’t truthfully say the same. Oh yeah, you were my first love too. Hell, maybe she had been, but I had no memory of it. But one thing I did remember, and I blurted it out. “I have this baseball cap. You gave it to me as a gift. I remember that day. It was…really nice. I still wear the hat.”
“No shit?” Chrissy’s laugh was sweet and light. I could imagine falling in love with a girl who laughed that way. Anna’s laugh sounded sort of like that. “I remember that day too. We didn’t do anything special, just shopped at the mall and hung out at the DQ afterward, but it was a special day.”
I smiled. We were remembering two different days because I wasn’t picturing her at either the mall or the Dairy Queen. But I said, “Take care, Chrissy. I hope life brings you everything you want.”
“You too, Jason.” Her voice was warm. “Thanks for contacting me.”
After we both hung up, I exhaled a long breath and leaned my head back against the wall to stare at the fluorescent light overhead.
Someone had once been deeply in love with me, and I’d casually brushed her off. Now it seemed I was doing the same thing with Anna. Pushing her away in an attempt to protect myself from getting dumped? Stupid Jason. Apparently it took more than a blow to the head to knock the douche out of me.
Chapter Twenty
After moping for most of the following week, I finally broke down and decided to call Jason to find out where we stood. I literally had my cell in hand and was gathering my courage to press his number, when the phone rang. Caller ID told me it was Jason. My already racing heart sprinted faster. I waited a few rings so he wouldn’t think I was sitting with the phone in my hand, hoping to hear from him. “Hi, Jason.”
“Hey. How you doin’?”
The familiar cadence of his husky voice, the slight halting between phrases, made me ache and heat in all the right places.
“I’m okay. You?”
“Good.”
Silence. How could two people who’d spent as much time together as we had and who’d been so intimately involved feel so awkward?
We both spoke at once. “I just wanted to say…” “I’m glad you called.”
Jason laughed. “Go ahead.”
“I wanted to say I understand your reasons for needing to take things slow. But if ‘take it slow’ is code for ‘I’m breaking up with you,’ then please be straight with me. I’d rather know and have it over with.” Nervousness made my tone sharper than I’d intended. I held my breath and waited to hear his answer.
“I don’t want to break up! I’ve missed you so much this week. I was stupid to say that about taking it slow. Maybe I was a little pissed off by how things went with your parents.”
“I knew it. My mom insulted you before I got there, didn’t she?”
“She didn’t say anything, but it was pretty obvious they weren’t thrilled about me. But it was more how you felt about it that made me decide to skip the dinner.”
“What? I told you I wanted you there.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t believe it. You were ashamed of me. I could feel it. And if your parents had come a day later like they were supposed to, instead of running into me by accident, you never would have introduced me to them.”
“No,” I lied. “That’s not true.”
“Come on, Anna. Be honest.”
How could I respond to that? You’re right. I’m a little embarrassed to be dating a janitor with no apparent plans to be anything else. Jason was hardly the guy I wanted to bring to the law firm’s Christmas party or a family event, and I couldn’t reconcile that feeling with my very real love for him.
I gripped the phone, glad we weren’t talking face-to-face. It would be even harder to say this. “Okay, I’ll admit it is sort of difficult dating someone who’s not part of the business world in the same way I am. It’s hard to imagine going out with other couples, for example. But we can’t stay in a little bubble of our own forever. I can’t pretend the discrepancy between our economic positions doesn’t exist, but my feelings about it are just something I’ll have to work through. You’re not the only one struggling to adjust to this thing between us. Give me some time. I’ll get there.”
Well spoken, Anna. Jules would be proud of me if I argued that well in court. But was it too much honesty? Jason remained silent for several seconds, and I winced at how snobbish I must have sounded.
“Thanks for being honest,” he said at last. “That’s all I wanted. And I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I do too. You’re successful, and I’m scrubbing toilets. It’s weird.”
Ow! I felt like I’d kicked Baby. It wasn’t Jason’s fault the best job he could get was a menial one. Maybe even for the rest of his life. I wished I’d never let him know it mattered to me, because it really didn’t. My ego didn’t depend on having a boyfriend with an equally high-powered career.
“Jason, can I come over? I need to see you. We should talk in person.”
“Okay. I have a little time before work. I can be late. I want to see you too.”
“I’ll be right over.”
I grabbed my purse and practically flew from my office. One nice perk about my job, I didn’t have to claim an appointment with a client or a court date. It was assumed I had some work-related engagement, as I told the receptionist I’d be gone for a few hours.
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been to Jason’s place. He always came to mine. Even when I went there, he usually came out to the car and never asked me up. Now, as I climbed the steps in the rank-smelling stairwell and walked the dimly lit hallway, I knew why. It was a pretty creepy building.
One rap on the door and it flew open. Jason pulled me inside and hard up against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and nuzzled my face into his shoulder. All the reasons for us not to be together evaporated like mist. This was exactly where I wanted to be and who I wanted to be with.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered into my hair. “I shouldn’t have pulled away. I don’t want to be that guy anymore.”
I lifted my face and looked into his eyes.
“I guess I have a track record of splitting when things get hard. I had a talk with an old girlfriend and remembered some things I’d forgotten.”
“What kind of things?” I asked, not sure if I was prying or giving him a chance to air issues he needed to talk about. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No. I think I should. Forgetting the past doesn’t seem to work so well.”
He took my hand and led me past the dilapidated armchairs and over to his bed. Heat flickered deep inside me as I remembered our first night on that bed. I wouldn’t mind replaying it, but this was a time for listening, not making out. I held Jason’s hand and waited.
He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, and my body responded as if he’d laid me down and kissed me senseless. “Chrissy, that girl from high school. I got her pregnant back then. I gave her money for the abortion, but that’s all the support I gave her. I was heading to college, and she wasn’t part of my future, so I cut her loose.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. Yeah, it sounded like he’d been harsh to someone who’d been important in his life, but teen relationships often fell apart over unplanned pregnancies or when high school was over. “I’m sure you’ve grown since then.”
“Have I? I don’t know. I was ready to walk away from you the moment things got a little tough. Maybe I’m a jerk at the core.”
I s
queezed his hand. “I don’t think so, or you wouldn’t be here now. Everybody screws up. There are times in my life I wouldn’t relive for anything.”
“I guess.”
“What you did wasn’t nice, but I think you can put it behind you and move on. What’s important is what you do now.”
“Uh-huh.” He pulled his hand away from mine and tapped his fingers on his thigh. The nervous tic pinged my radar. There was something else Jason wasn’t saying.
“You asked me to be honest with you, and I was. Is there something else you need to tell me?” I asked.
Jason laced the fingers of both hands together. “Um, the night I blew off dinner with your parents, I did something else.”
“What?” The hair on my nape was prickling.
“There was this other girl from high school I ran into recently. She was the one who reminded me about Chrissy. We went out for a drink that night so I could learn more about those years and…”
“Say it.”
“We got pretty drunk while we were talking, and we hooked up.”
I felt like someone had hit me in the stomach. “Hooked up how? How much?”
He frowned and flexed his fingers nervously. “A little more than kissing, but no sex.”
“You mean no penetration?” I asked coolly, establishing the facts as if it were one of my cases. Asking questions about detail helped put my growing anger at arm’s length.
“Right. No, uh, penetration,” he stammered.
