by Meg Harding
“Let me just run something by you. Don’t talk. Listen. This is me rolling with a hunch. I could be completely wrong, or I could be spot on. You’re keeping your feelings to yourself because you think it’s the right thing to do. It’s protecting you from getting hurt, and it’s protecting Jaden from something probably only you understand. He didn’t reveal his feelings to you, so you’re thinking that’s a sign whatever you’re doing is for the best. Now, here’s where it got counterproductive. Consider this: Jaden was waiting for you to tell him how you felt, and you didn’t, so he went ahead and left.” Phoenix spread his hands out, palms up. “Just a thought.”
Chase wanted Phoenix to not be making sense right now. But he was. “No,” he said. If Phoenix was right, then Chase was an idiot.
Phoenix nodded. “Yeah. Who out of the two of you is more outgoing? Who is more confident? You’ve got your issues, sure, we all do. But you’re still more sure of yourself than Jaden by a mile. He’s getting there, but it’ll take time.”
Chase scrubbed his hands through his knotted hair—it was getting too long and he needed to trim it—and resisted the urge to pull on the strands in frustration. “You’re making my head hurt.”
“The truth will do that.”
He narrowed his eyes to show his irritation. He needed Phoenix to leave so he could think without Phoenix’s dumb Jaden-like eyes boring into him.
Phoenix heaved a hefty sigh. “I’ll go get your gift.”
“You mean the advice wasn’t it?”
“Nah. I got you the one thing better than advice.”
Chase stared after him, wondering what this gift could possibly be.
When Phoenix returned, it was with a familiar, heartbreaking form in his arms. Chase knew he was a goner the second he spotted the cat with its big yellow eyes and no longer matted hair. Her whiskers were twitching and she flicked her tail—slung over Phoenix’s forearm—lazily. “Shit,” he said on a whisper.
Phoenix grinned at him. “I could’ve adopted her out by now, but I knew she was perfect for you.” He rocked her like a baby. “She’s spayed and has her shots. Still no name. When she’s playing her claws will make you cry. It’s understandable if you don’t want her….”
“Shut up.” Chase stood and reached for her. She let him lift her with no squirming, willingly settling into his hold. She rubbed the side of her face hard against his jaw. He scratched her sleek black fur, brushing along her still too knobby spine. “Hey there, Jade.”
“Dude—”
Chase slapped a hand over Phoenix’s mouth. “My cat. My name.”
Chapter 15
Jaden walked into his mom’s house with determination and purpose. He was a man on a mission. He was going to lay his cards on the table and deal with whatever reaction she had. If she’d picked up the phone when he tried to call her a few days ago, he’d already know what to expect. But she hadn’t, so he guessed it’d be a face-to-face kind of talk.
His stomach churned.
Why couldn’t she have answered the phone?
That’d have been too easy.
“Mom?” Her house was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the entryway. It was the annoying kind that tolled every hour, on the hour. Magneto growled at it and Jaden shushed him. “Mom?” he called again, stomach sinking now. “Let me guess, you’re not home.”
He got no response.
Yeah, she wasn't home. Sighing, he dragged his suitcase over the threshold and wondered if he’d ever get to have this talk with her. He doubted she was avoiding him till he ran out of courage on purpose, but it sure felt like it.
He left his bag in the hallway, taking up space, and wandered through to the kitchen. Everything was spotless as always, except for the stack of envelopes and paper on the shelf near the door. It was his mom’s quirk. She was fastidious about everything except the mail. She always left it in a messy pile on the shelf like she couldn't be bothered.
When he’d left Drew, he’d asked for his mail to be forwarded here rather than to a P.O. box he’d have to go out of his way to check. He didn't think he’d have much other than junk mail waiting for him, but there was probably a credit card statement or two. Which he should definitely find and pay.
He moved the stack to the kitchen island, and then went about making himself peanut butter toast. Magneto dogged his heels until he fed him as well, requiring his seemingly tenth meal of the day to maintain his status as a small horse.
While Jaden ate, he organized the mail. The top of the stack was, as he guessed, junk. The senior village down the road wanted him to submit an application—he was thirty-five not eighty-five, no thanks—and Discover would like him to apply for another credit card. He flicked them aside into a trash heap while absently licking peanut butter from the tip of his thumb.
The paper under the Target ad had him pausing mid-chew and setting his toast on his plate. He slid it to the side and stared at the paper underneath it. He shifted that one over too. They were not mail. They were job applications and printed pages of job listings, with helpful notations made in the margin about salaries and business rankings. Some of the printed company pages came with dates and a time listed at the top.
Jaden thumbed through them.
He was going to take a wild guess and say his mom had been filling out online applications for him and scheduling interviews while he was gone.
It was an extensive stack. There were more applications than there was mail.
His jaw firmed.
He was having flashbacks to his college applications. Namely the fact that before he could even begin to think about where he wanted to go, there’d been a box full of pamphlets and applications with course guides sitting on his desk. They’d been accompanied by little notes about which programs or schools his mom was especially fond of.
He took a good look at the positions she’d highlighted for him. A fortune 500 company needed a chief financial officer. A stockbroker firm needed a chief accounting executive. A medical equipment company was searching for an assistant controller. All high end jobs. He’d be at the top of the proverbial food chain. Practically running the entire department. His office would be in a skyscraper, probably somewhere on the thirtieth or upwards floor. He’d wear a suit into work everyday, not the kind he could get from Dillard’s, but the kind he’d have to get custom made.
He’d make six figures a year.
Even the senior positions she’d printed for him were above and beyond what he was doing before. His mom had done her research. One firm needed a senior auditor, and the company’s current manager was according to “rumors” looking to leave for better pastures in a year or two. In which case—hint, hint—Jaden could move right on up the corporate ladder.
Jaden’s heart palpitated at just the thought of the stress a job like this would entail. He wouldn’t have time for a life. He’d live and breathe his work. Which, he’d been doing all of that before. So why did the idea of being consumed by a job suddenly seem so daunting?
Probably ‘cause you spent the last month having a life and you liked it.
Did he really want to go back to who he was before Serenity?
He shoved the papers aside, flipping them over so he couldn't see anything other than their blank backs.
His right eye twitched, anxiety clawing at his throat. Five minutes in his “home” and he was already feeling unhappy.
He was going to need more toast.
“I see you saw the applications.”
Jaden poked at the pasta boiling in the pot. He’d heard his mom come in a few minutes ago, and a mix of anger and nerves had been consuming him since. “Yep.” He’d left the applications facedown on the counter the day before, and he hadn’t touched them since. “I see you finally came home.”
“I was working.”
You’re always working. “Any breakthroughs?”
“Yes.” Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she crossed to him. “So what did you think?”
“Of yo
ur unknown breakthrough? I think you’d have to tell me what it is first before I can give you my opinion.”
Her minute-long silence before she spoke let him clearly know how she felt about him sassing her. “The jobs. Did any catch your eye?”
He bit his bottom lip, worrying at a patch of dry skin. He was a grown man, not a child. He could stand up to his mom. He came here to do just that. Jaden couldn't back down now. “We need to talk.”
“About which jobs you’re thinking of applying for? I’ve arranged a few interviews as well. I can help you pick out a suitable outfit for them.”
Jaden turned off the stovetop. He wasn't going to be able to have this conversation and refrain from burning his dinner at the same time. He faced her. She was leaning against the kitchen island, her arms crossed and her expression neutral. Her sandy hair was up in its familiar strict pony tail. He mirrored her posture. “You’re being obtuse on purpose.”
“And you’re stalling.”
He curled his fingers into his palm. “I’m not taking any of those jobs.” Just saying it lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I’m not applying for them. I’m not going to the interviews. My interest in those applications is less than zero. I’d like to figure out my next step all on my own.” He paused, and then tacked on, “Without any input from you,” just in case she needed it spelled out.
He could tell by the thinning of her lips and the wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes, she wasn't pleased by this news. He continued on, figuring he should get everything out before she could distract him with an argument. “And we’re not selling grandma’s house. I talked it over with my brothers, and we think it’s best to repurpose it for the benefit of the town. I believe they’re leaning toward renting it out as a bed and breakfast. I also chose not to be bought out of my share of the gym.”
He was pretty sure this was the metaphorical hill on which he was choosing to make his last stand, so he wracked his brain for anything else he’d like to say before his mom killed him. “I appreciate your help and all you’ve done for me, but I think it’s time I tried to do something different with my life. I want to figure out who I am when I’m not trying to please you. I started hunting for a short term rental yesterday evening, and I’m meeting with a landlord tomorrow morning. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.”
She stared at him, her brown gaze boring holes into him.
He locked his knees so he didn't nervously shift or squirm under her intense scrutiny. He wished she’d say something already.
She broke eye contact first, twisting to pick up the papers on the counter. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Do you want my approval for you to—what?—find yourself? You’re in your mid-thirties. The time for experimentation is long past. You’ve already put all this time into creating a history that makes you a good fit for these positions.”
“People are going to college in their fifties. Age isn’t a limit on starting over anymore.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You’re going back to school?”
He rubbed his forehead. “I wasn’t being literal. I’m just pointing out that things don’t always stay the same and people change their minds. Maybe I want to do accounting for a small, start-up company. Or a mom and pop shop needing help. Or a non-profit organization.” He pointed to the papers in her hand. “Maybe I want to do something not in the state of New York.”
“Ah.” Her expression cleared.
“Ah? What?”
“You’re having an emotional life crisis.”
Don’t speak without thinking, Jaden. Don’t do it. He inhaled deeply. “I’m not. I’ve never actually been on my own. I’m not entirely sure who I am without outside influences. I lived with you, then Drew, then back with you. I’ve always had people telling me what they expected from me. And I’ve always strived to meet those demands. So I’m done being a doormat. I’m going to be selfish for once.”
She looked at him like he’d sprouted horns. “I don’t understand.”
Jaden shrugged. He couldn't say he truly did himself. “I met someone in Serenity. He told me to do things for myself.”
She sneered. “So this is about you wanting to stay in Serenity. You came back to get your ducks all in a row so you can rush back to a fling you’ve grown attached to.”
Jaden knew himself well enough to admit that had Chase asked him to stay, he’d have done so in a heartbeat. But this… this was Jaden being himself. What they’d had was short and intense, and while he tentatively planned to return to Serenity, he couldn’t ignore the niggling doubt that space would see the passion faded. The moment over. If all his feelings were just as strong when he’d wrapped up his business here, then he’d know it was right.
He took several deep breaths, trying to slow the racing of his heart before he lost control of it. He would not back down in the face of his mother’s anger. “This is me wanting to live without your voice inside my head. I am not my father. I don’t need your influence to keep me from becoming him. When I love something, I stick with it. I don’t love my job, and I don’t love Drew.”
“I see.” Her tone was cold, so clearly she didn’t. “Then why are you here and not there?”
Jaden dug the heels of his palms into his temples. “I don’t know who I am. I need to make sure I wasn’t changing myself for them like I changed myself for you and Drew. I want to make sure what happened there was real.”
He was so, so terrified that it wasn’t.
The sun was warm on Jaden’s face, making his cheeks feel overheated and the bridge of his nose sensitive. He probably should have put sunscreen on before coming to the dog park. He pushed his aviator shades into place with his pointer finger and glanced around to check on Magneto. He spotted him, flat on his back, accepting belly rubs from a petite blond woman with a large poodle by her side. Jaden flipped the page in his sketchbook over and started drawing, roughly outlining the scene with his pencil.
He’d been in New York for two months, living in a studio apartment for six of those eight weeks, and he came to this park every weekend to draw. The divorce proceedings were all but done, agreements come to and lawyers happy. Splitting a life joined for so many years had not been a quick process.
But he had come to some realizations.
He really enjoyed making his own schedule. He liked being able to take breaks from a daily routine to go out and spend time exploring. He loved losing himself in an art project for a few hours and not having it be the end of the world. With no deadlines in his future, he felt like he could breathe easy.
There were just a few things that weren't clicking for him, and he was making the steps to fix them.
He finally knew exactly what he wanted.
Well, he’d always known, he was just ready to accept it now.
He’d been beyond ready since the moment he got a text with a picture of the most adorable cat he’d ever seen and a caption that read her name’s Jade.
“Well, this is something I haven’t seen you do in ages.”
Jaden glanced up. Drew was standing a foot or so away, a manila folder clasped in one hand. The last thing keeping Jaden here. His short, gelled black hair was perfectly in place and his dress shirt was wrinkle-free. The lines on his face were still the same as when Jaden last saw him, and he smiled the same stilted smile he always did when he was nervous. There was a silver watch on his left wrist—the one Jaden gave him for their second anniversary. So much had changed and yet some things would always be the same.
“Hey,” he said. Jaden moved his backpack from the bench to the ground by his feet. “Sit down.” Drew left a good foot of space between them. It made Jaden roll his eyes. “I don’t bite.”
Drew shifted a whole inch closer.
Jaden sighed.
Drew placed the folder between them. “You look… different,” he finally said, gaze taking in Jaden from head to toe.
“I feel different.” Jaden took the folder and flipped through it, skimming the documen
ts inside. All he had to do was sign and every tie he had to Drew would be cut. He didn't love Drew, but it still felt weird. He thought it always would. “Do you have a pen?” His were in his pack somewhere.
Drew produced one from his pocket, holding it out. He did so love to be prepared.
“Thanks.” Jaden signed without giving it much thought, ready to put the whole thing behind him and move on to the future. It felt like relief. “How’ve you been?” He double checked to make sure he didn’t miss any lines. He didn't want to do this a second time.
“Things are good. I’ve been accepted for tenure at NYU. We’re, uh, having a celebratory dinner for it next week. If you’d like to come.”
Jaden blinked down at their divorce papers. He scratched his cheek with the cap of the pen. What was a polite way to say ‘not a chance in hell?’ He was over Drew, but that didn't mean he didn’t have his limits. “I won’t be in town, sorry.”
“Oh.”
Jaden initialed a spot he missed.
“Going on a vacation?”
“I’m moving,” said Jaden, shutting the folder. He recapped the pen. “To Florida.”
“To Florida,” repeated Drew blankly.
“Yep.” Jaden dumped the folder in his lap. “I met a guy and found a job.” He could see Drew processing this information, the wheels in his brain visibly turning in his expression. He tucked his sketchbook into the large compartment of his bag and dropped his pencil in the small front pouch. He grinned dopily. “He got a cat and named her after me.”
Drew opened his mouth, then shut it. He shook his head. “That’s nice. I guess?” He sounded unsure.
Jaden whistled for Magneto. “It is.” He understood the meaning behind it. Read it loud and clear the second he saw the message. He’d been tempted to run right back to Florida, say fuck alone time and figuring things out.
It had been a lesson in self-control staying when he knew what was waiting for him.
Magneto bounded up to him, completely ignoring Drew to slobber all over Jaden’s outstretched hand.
