Everything Has Changed

by Mia Kayla

  He stood, made his way toward me, and held my shoulders. “Don’t,” he said firmly.

  I nodded even though guilt was still rising to the surface. Heat rushed to the backs of my eyes, an indication that tears would surely follow. Every time I tried to push them down, they would keep bubbling back up, like a float in the water.

  He squeezed my shoulders with a softness in his eyes. “Stop, Boo. She said she’s fine. We’re not going there.” He lifted an eyebrow. “And I didn’t fly here to move you in and then move you back home. That’s not happening.”

  I nodded again, stepped away from him, and focused on the box of dishes. Maybe if I concentrated on the task at hand, I’d forget about leaving my mother, forget about her pining away for her dead husband.

  I started to ramble as I reached for a porcelain plate with flowers etched on the side. “You know, when you’re alone, you tend to think, and we’ve gone through so much to get her to where she’s at. I’d hate to see her relapse.”

  He stalked over to the pile of boxes. “I’m throwing this shit away, so you don’t get any ideas. You needed to move out, Boo, I wasn’t gonna let you live in that house and take care of your mother forever. You’re twenty-two and in the prime of your life. You should be going out and clubbing, not staying at home and doing nothing with your mother.”

  I frowned. He had a point, but it didn’t stop the constant worry. It wasn’t like a switch that I could flip off.

  “It’s just I don’t want her to go back to how she was before. I couldn’t handle that. I can’t go through that again.”

  “I get it,” he said, exasperated. “I understand. But if it’s not now, then when? You needed to get out and start living your life.”

  “I am,” I argued. “My dream has always been to go to law school, graduate, and then finally start practicing law. That’s living. I didn’t have to move out to prove a point.”

  “And then what?” he countered. “Your husband move in with you and your mom, too?” There was frustration in his voice. “He’s dead, Boo.”

  I flinched, feeling as though he’d just punched me in the gut.

  “Your mom has moved on, and you haven’t had time to heal. Shit, Boo, you never even talk about him—ever. You don’t reminisce, you don’t—”

  “Stop!” I yelled, cutting him off. “I’m not talking about this. Why do you keep pushing me?”

  His mouth opened and then clenched shut. A stubborn angry look was on his face. My chin trembled as I turned around and went back to putting the dishes away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gently from behind me.

  I kept my back to him.

  “Are you mad? I said I’m sorry.”

  “Mmhmm,” I muttered. I was afraid if I spoke, I’d falter and burst into tears.

  If I saw the sympathy in Jimmy’s eyes, I wouldn’t be able to keep it together, and I’d cry when I hadn’t cried in such a long time. So, I stayed silent and focused on unpacking the dishes.

  Plate, glass, bowl. Plate, glass, bowl.

  After a few minutes, I heard crinkling behind me. I turned to see Jimmy sitting on one of my plastic bins, jamming a few Oreos in his mouth. He lifted both eyebrows as a spray of black-and-white crumbs fell onto my light-colored hardwood floor.

  “What?” He gobbled up two more cookies, puffing out his cheeks. “You’re mad, so I’m eating,” he mumbled through chews.

  As my lips twitched into an almost smile, he stood and made his way toward me. I turned away again, opening up a box of silverware. I began putting the forks and spoons in the black flatware tray in the drawer.

  He was so close that I could feel his warmth, but I stayed put, trying my best to stay mad.

  “Cookie?” he asked, an Oreo floating near my cheek. When I didn’t respond, he stuffed it into his mouth and reached in the container for another one. “Cookie?”

  I had a feeling he’d play this game all day, if that were what it would take to break me from my mood.

  I slid a glance in his direction, and he smiled big, showing the mushed-up Oreos plastered all along his teeth. The black was a stark contrast to his gleaming white teeth.

  He made a goofy face. “Nom, nom, nom. I’m the Cookie Monster, and I’m going to jam cookies down your mouth.”

  I couldn’t help it. I chuckled. “Why do you act so immature? You’re a grown man.”

  He took a step closer, his smile faltering. “Because I want to hear you laugh and see that smile.”

  Our eyes locked for a few seconds before he grinned, showing me his chocolate cookie–covered teeth again.

  “And I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

  I finally burst into a fit of laughter. “Stop.” I giggled, playfully slapping his forearm.

  The next second, his eyes softened. The smile slowly left his face, and he dropped the Oreo container on the counter. He pulled me into him, and my arms automatically wrapped around his lower back as I’d done hundreds, maybe thousands, of times before.

  He dropped his head into the crook of my neck, and warmth spread through me as he exhaled, his breath tickling my shoulder.

  “Much better.” His voice was muffled against my skin.

  His fingertips dug into my hips, sending jolts of electricity to the pit of my belly. It was as if he were breathing me in, apologizing in silence.

  I pulled him in tighter, too, my hands gripping the back of his shirt. “You know I can’t talk about him, Jimmy. You know,” I whispered, taking in his scent.

  “I know,” he whispered back even though I could tell it wasn’t what he was going to say.

  He wanted to push me, but I sensed he was using restraint, hoping to relish in this silent moment and not start another fight.

  We stayed locked in each other’s arms. As minutes ticked by, all I heard was the sound of our breathing, and all I felt was the compression of his chest against my cheek every time he exhaled.

  “She’ll be okay. I promise you,” he said. “She’s made it this far.”

  I nodded against his chest and held my anchor tighter against me. After a beat, I pulled back and peered up at him. “Thanks for flying out here to help me move.”

  He cupped the side of my face with his one hand. His look told me no thank you was needed. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew I could depend on this man for anything. He knew what I needed before I could even figure it out myself.

  His eyes showed such emotion, such tenderness. His thumb lightly grazed my cheek, his touch sending the slew of butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.

  His lips parted as though he were about to speak, but his jaw clamped shut, and a dimple flashed on his cheek instead. “Anything for my Boo,” he said, kissing my forehead.

  Present Day—Geno’s Pizza, Twenty-Third Birthday

  “Hi.” A little boy no more than seven years old stood right next to our table, breaking me away from my memories. He held a napkin and pen, his hand shaking. “Ca-can I get your autograph?” He had the most adorable voice. “I’m, like, your biggest fan.”

  My insides melted at his cuteness, and when I glanced up, Jimmy was smiling, which made my heart skip a beat.

  The boy’s parents were sitting directly across from us, and they were staring at their son with such awe in their eyes as he bravely asked for an autograph. A teenage girl who was presumably the little boy’s sister was eyeing Jimmy with a cheeky grin.

  I adored this part of Jimmy’s life. His presence could light up a little boy’s eyes, or he could say hello and make teenage girls squeal. I didn’t appreciate the hot model-looking women squealing, but I didn’t mind the teenage girls. They were cute.

  “Sure.” Jimmy’s dimple sank deep in his cheek as he reached for the napkin. “What’s your name, bud?”

  “Tommy.”

  “You play football, Tommy?”

  “Yes, sir.” He vigorously nodded his little head as this huge boyish smile spread on his face.

  Jimmy grinned at him. “You any good?”


  I kicked Jimmy under the table, and he stifled a laugh.

  “Yeah.” The boy gave another vigorous nod.

  “What position do you play?”

  “Linebacker, sir. I’m on a traveling team. I’m only in second grade. I tried out last season as a first grader, and I made it. We’re first in our district.” The child’s eyes gleamed with pride. “I’m gonna be like you. I want to play for the NFL, and I’m gonna make it big.” The shy boy from a moment ago was gone as he bounced on his toes while spilling his lifelong aspirations.

  Jimmy finished scribbling his autograph and pushed up his cap to meet the boy at eye-level. “You work hard, real hard,” he told the boy firmly, “and believe in yourself. Never stop believing, and I swear, you can do it.”

  The boy’s beaming smile could have lit up the room. He leaped forward and tackled Jimmy for a hug. Jimmy chuckled and patted the boy’s back.

  When the boy left, Jimmy pulled his cap lower, quietly groaning as more people started to notice us, most likely wondering who he was. He was such a great role model for kids, and my heart swelled at his kindness.

  “Jimmy, you just made that boy’s day—maybe even his year.” With my elbow propped on the table, I rested my head in my hand as I smiled like the teenage sister.

  “For what?” He looked self-conscious all of a sudden. “Signing a napkin?”

  “No, for all that talk about working hard and believing in himself.”

  “I saw spark in those eyes.” He glanced back at the table where the little boy was showing his family the autograph. “He’ll be fine. It’s those other kids, the ones I work with at the Boys & Girls Club, who I worry about. I had a messed-up childhood, but at least I was my mother’s golden child.”

  “You were her only child, silly.”

  He let out a low laugh. “Yeah, but have you seen me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

  I should have laughed, too, but a lump rose in my throat instead.

  Yeah, I see you. You just don’t see me.

  I was glad the lights were dim, so he couldn’t notice the flush creeping up my cheeks.

  “Crap, I have to call my mom.” I reached in my purse for my phone, remembering she had called me earlier, but she never left a message. I wondered if it were an emergency.

  He pulled my arm back, that same warmth spreading through me. “Enough of that, Boo. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” I texted my mom, telling her that I’d call her later. Then, I reached for my glass of water. The condensation was fogging the outside of the glass as I took a sip. “Anyway, how’s Claire?” Maybe if we talked about his mom, I’d stop thinking about mine.

  He rested his forearms on the table. “Oh, Ma? You know.” He shrugged those burly shoulders of his. “Same old shit. Popping pills like they’re candy and drinking vodka like it’s water. I doubt she remembers I was over last night.” He laughed without humor.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Mom had told me a while ago that Jimmy was still having a hard time with Claire.

  He picked at a crumb on the table. “It’s crazy how falling in love is supposed to be this great thing. But, really, falling in love ruins people.” His words came out softly as his eyes tightened.

  The melancholy sound in his voice hit me straight in the heart. I bit my lip, wishing he didn’t have this distorted view on love.

  I sat straighter in my seat, his words settling into me. “You can’t have this tainted view all your life, or you’re never going to fall in love.”

  “Yep, never.” He gave a confirming nod. “Why would I want to put myself in that situation? So, I can end up broken like her? No, thanks.”

  My stomach plummeted to the floor. Even though I knew this about Jimmy, it still hurt every time he mentioned it. Because of his convoluted view on love and life, I knew we wouldn’t have a chance.

  I didn’t press it. We’d had this conversations a million times. My mother had suffered bouts of depression because of my father’s death, but they’d had a lifetime’s worth of love and happiness. They had built years of memories, and if I had to ask her if she would trade it all, give up her past to get rid of the pain she still felt now, I knew that she would say no. She would say that it was all worth it in the end.

  Jimmy had a different view because of his past, and I wondered if he would ever heal.

  He pounded the table with his hand, making me jump. “We’re having fun, Boo. Stop this. Eat and enjoy your damn birthing-class dinner, okay?” He flashed me his dimple. “And after”—he rubbed his hands together, a devilish glint in his eye—“I’ve got other plans.”

  “Jimmy,” I whined. I’d thought dinner was the bulk of our evening and movie night in my apartment would be the rest. I didn’t enjoy surprises, especially after my father had died.

  “Nope, this is your golden, and we’re doing something different this year.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait,” I replied dryly, hiding the fact that his boyish smile had me melting inside. Maybe these other plans wouldn’t be so bad this year after all.

  Present Day

  AFTER DINNER, JIMMY HELD MY hand and led us out. Being with him tonight almost felt like a real date.

  Restaurants lined the busy street, and people congregated around circular tables outside, eating and chatting on a Saturday night. The bass line from a hip local restaurant thumped in my ears as we passed. Jimmy pulled us down Roger Street. He tipped his cap lower again, worried he’d be recognized.

  Rounding a corner, we walked farther down Roger Street until the music from the main street was muffled. The crowd of people was no longer present as he pulled me deeper into an area full of warehouses. It was probably a bustling place during the regular workweek, but tonight, it was vacant.

  He stopped in front of a three-story building. My eyes took in the huge office structure. Different shades of gray brick accented the white window frames that looked like they needed to be repainted.

  I turned to Jimmy, a playful grin heavy on his face. A lamppost highlighted his features, and my breath caught.

  “Ready?” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

  “No,” I joked, trying to make the tension in my stomach disappear.

  Anxiety crept up my throat. I didn’t do well with surprises. I liked knowing where we were going beforehand. Actually, I couldn’t remember the last time I was ever surprised. My nervousness must have registered on my face because a moment later, he squeezed my hand.

  “Don’t you trust me, Boo?”

  His chocolate-brown eyes drew me in, and I felt my whole body relaxing.

  “Always,” I replied.

  We headed into the office building, and when I stepped through the door, I was amazed at my surroundings. The exterior gave the appearance of a worn-down abandoned warehouse, but the interior was occupied with the finest furniture. A shiny geometric reception desk made of milled aluminum greeted us, and the hall was covered in dark gray stripes.

  Jimmy kept glancing at me, his dimple set deep on his cheek. I wondered where we were headed as my heels clicked against the mahogany hardwood floor, and I was guessing this was why Jimmy had suggested I dress up for tonight.

  At the end of the hall, he knocked on a door, and a middle-aged woman appeared. She had a warm smile as she stepped to the side to let us in. Her sleek strawberry-blonde hair stopped right below her chin.

  “Hi.” Jimmy released me and shook her hand. “Thanks for meeting us after hours.” He stepped to the side, so I was in her line of sight. “I’m Jimmy, and this is Bliss”—he motioned to me with one hand—“the birthday girl.”

  I shot him a look, and he just laughed.

  Her hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as she extended her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dawn.” Her grip was light and soft.

  Although she was a stranger, I felt at ease. There was a natural calmness to her aura.

  I took in the surroundings, feeling more than curious. The brightly lit immen
se room was empty with floor-to-ceiling mirrors that caged us in. I angled my head in Jimmy’s direction and cocked an eyebrow. What the heck had he signed us up for? Just looking at his boyish smile had butterflies fluttering in the pit of my belly, and it was the good kind.

  In Jimmy-like fashion, he threw one arm around my shoulder and pulled me in. A wide grin spread across his face as he turned us toward the kind woman. “This is our instructor for tonight. She’s going to teach us a couple of dances.”

  Dances? Was he joking?

  I pulled away to examine his face to see if there was any indication that this was a hoax. Then, I blinked rapidly. “Jimmy!” I yelped. “I can’t dance.”

  He knew I had two left feet. The last time we’d gone dancing was prom, and I was sure he remembered me stepping on his toes multiple times.

  My eyes flickered toward Dawn, and I offered her an awkward smile, my face distorted in what I was certain looked like pain.

  “Nonsense. Everyone can dance. It just takes practice.” She reached for my hand, tugging me toward the center of the room.

  I heard Jimmy laugh behind me, and turned to face him. I narrowed my eyes, shooting daggers his way. He would so be paying for this later.

  “Okay, Bliss, I need to loosen you up.”

  She took my arm and wiggled it, and I laughed.

  “Now, I need you to wobble your leg like this.” Demonstrating for me, she lifted her leg and shook it, hokey-pokey style. Her warm smile widened as she motioned for my leg to engage.

  I could see Jimmy’s reflection in the mirror. He was chuckling silently behind me.

  I swiveled and pointed a finger in his direction. “If I have to do it, he has to join in on the fun, too.”

  He shrugged, not bothered in the slightest, and met us in the center of the dance floor.

  With one click of a remote that Dawn had pulled out of her pocket, music blared in the background. To my surprise, it actually was “The Hokey Pokey.” I was sure this dance wasn’t difficult to learn, but I’d never done it, not even in elementary school. All I remembered was square dancing eons ago.

  I stood stoic on the dance floor as Jimmy wiggled my arm when the song said. He wore a goofy grin, using me as his puppet for every move. Finally loosening up, I followed his lead, laughing along the way.