by Ines Vieira
“I’m sure you’re doing wonderfully, Quaid. You have a kind heart and a good head on your shoulders. It came as no surprise to me that you decided to become a pediatric surgeon instead of seeking fame and money as a football player.”
I nod, because again I look up to this man immensely, and all these compliments are leaving me a little out of sorts. I say this first thing that comes to mind, just so we can move to a different topic.
“Carlos, I don’t mean to be rude in any way, but it always struck me as peculiar why Jess never partook in your volunteer work. I’ve seen some of your nephews involved, even though at the time I didn’t know they belonged to your family, but I never saw Jess in any charity event.” Carlos’ eyes prideful beam increases and I know that I’m missing something.
“Well that my boy, is Jess for you. I tried to take her with me when she was as young as eight years old, but instead of it bringing out the compassionate side I know my daughter has in her, it brought out the fighter in her instead. I still remember as if it was yesterday. We were going off towards Baker Hill, you know that piece of land where people that can only afford a trailer can live on, well my little Jessica got so mad, so upset, that I had to cut my visit short.”
Yeah, that sounded like Jess alright. I bite my inner cheek to prevent me choking out that Carlos’s little princess never outgrew her tantrums. Unaware of my thoughts, Carlos continues on.
“When I got home and asked her what made her so upset. You know what the little devil told me? She said she had looked around the plot and saw that there was no place for kids her age to play. She went as far to interrogate a boy that was sitting on what I assume were his trailer’s steps, on what he did to have fun. Apparently whatever the boy told her was unacceptable to her. She said she had found out that most kids there had no real toys or even books to read. She was so outraged and angry it took me all night for my wife and I to calm her down that night.” Carlos looks at me to see if I was still following his story, which I was. I must nod or something, and he takes this as confirmation to continue.
“So the very next morning, Jess approached my wife and I at breakfast and asked if I can buy her some stationery, envelopes, and stamps. I, of course, say yes, but want to know the reason behind this sudden request. She then goes on to tell me that she is going to write every day to the Governor of Rhode Island, the Senator of Massachusetts and the President of the United States a letter to rectify the living conditions of those kids. And you know what, that’s exactly what she did. Every week she would post three letters to each of them. Every week. And after the first month of no reply, she started to send out a letter every day. Even took up a paper route just to pay for the stamps and envelopes. I was sure that sooner or later, our Governor would reply to her, even if only to let her down gently, but a miraculous thing happened. Our previous president answered her back. I was astounded! We all were! More amazingly was that he wrote back commending her perseverance in reaching out to him and making him aware of the precarious conditions those kids were subjected to and that he had contacted our governor to rectify this by building a park in the area. He also sent her a check for her to buy toys and books that were appropriate for them and the remaining amount to use for any just cause she saw fit. After that Jess did everything she could to rectify a wrong that she saw in the community. After we were able to give her a computer, then she became unstoppable. Pestering anyone she could think of while still building websites for her causes. You know that donation the library got to renovate their book selection two years ago, well that was all Jess. That job Mr. Peterson got last winter, too. I mean I can go on and on, but I guess what I’m saying is that although Jess doesn’t have the stomach to face suffering and injustice, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t see it and fight the good fight like we do.”
I am floored. I mean I had no idea. How could I have, though? I really don’t know much about Jess aside from her snarky comments that she insists in directing at me. The image that Carlos is painting is a total contraction of the girl I’ve drawn in my mind.
“I see that this has surprised you,” Carlos laughs.
“A little, yeah,” I admit.
“Well, it shouldn’t. You yourself tend to escape any attention that is deserved for your philanthropic achievements. Is it so surprising that my daughter lacks the same ambition to have that notoriety as well?”
“No, of course not. Please, Carlos, don’t be offended by my bewilderment. Jess and I have never been that close, so I apologize beforehand if my surprise about what you just told me, offended you in any way.” I’d feel like an asshole if that's the case, but Carlos just continues to laugh.
“It's fine, Quaid. Actually, it’s more than fine. If what I said helps you with the favor I asked of you this Christmas; then I’m glad for it.”
“Carlos, I would have done it regardless of what you just told me. I promised you and your wife that I would look after Jess when we got back to New York, and I am a man of my word.” Great, now I’m the one that sounds offended.
“Oh yes, I know that, but maybe now you’ll put a little bit of heart into the endeavor,” he smiles. It seems that I wasn’t able to hide how much I wasn’t looking forward to keeping the promise.
I want to tell him that nothing he said made an impression big enough that I would act any differently. But that would be a lie. Knowing that Jessica isn’t as spoilt or self-centered as I thought she was, does make a small difference. Okay maybe not that small, and does that make me a rotten human being thinking that I would prefer to babysit an altruistic Jess compared to a self-serving one? I think the answer is yes, but it’s out of my control now.
“Well, let me see what’s taking her so long. Do you want to come in while you wait?”
“No, it's fine. I like the morning air. I’ll stay here if you don’t mind.” Carlos gives me another pat on the shoulder and proceeds to go in.
Ten minutes later, Jess’s bags are in my trunk, and a teary-eyed Jess says her last goodbyes to the two people that love her the most. It’s still pretty early, so I am more than happy for her to prolong the farewell, but Jess gets into the car before she has time to see, her own father getting a bit emotional. I tell Carlos that I’ll keep in touch and get into the car. Jess doesn’t say a word about my driving, so it's safe to assume that she has already taken precautions by taking a little blue pill. By the time we reach the New York State Thruway on the I-90, we still haven’t said one word to each other, and I know that this won't do if I’m supposed to infiltrate into Jess’s life the way Carlos wants me to.
“We should be friends,” I let out. I don’t know when I decided to say that, but since leaving Plymouth, it's the only thing that keeps repeating itself in a loop inside my head. My eyes are still fixed on the road ahead of us, but I don’t miss her blatant eye roll at my desire to be friends.
“Oh yeah? And why is that?” she asks half-heartedly.
“Well for starters, because we’ve known each other since junior high and now that we’re both attending the same college, it makes sense we have some form of contact.”
“That’s not a good enough reason. Even if we have gone to the same schools since puberty, that isn’t enough of a reason to actually have any sort of relationship. Besides just because we're from the same hometown, doesn’t mean we know each other.” Now I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t because in that regard she is right. We don’t know each other. Still, my willingness to surpass that should be enough right? Why does she have to make things so complicated?
“Alright, but that’s what I’m asking, isn’t it? I want to get to know you a little and maybe make our time alone in New York less lonely.” Suspiciously she raises her eyebrow at this.
“I never pegged you for the social kind, Quaid. You seemed pretty comfortable in high school keeping to yourself, so what gives now?”
“Do I have to have a reason? Isn’t me wanting to get to know you enough of a justifiable reason?”
�
�No.” She doesn’t even have to think about it before she flat out rejects me. Okay, then the truth it is.
“Your dad’s worried about you. Your mom, too.” Her face falters, and I see this wasn’t the answer she expected or wanted to hear.
“Ha. So that’s why,” she says in a low voice. She turns her head to the side and stays fixed on the scenery that passes her window. This new silence makes me a little nervous, so I start to talk to fill some of the dead air between us.
“Is there a reason why they’re so worried about you?” She shrugs and continues to be tight-lipped. I let out an exasperated sigh because I really don’t know what to say.
“Jess, I know you complain about me not being the best talker, but I promise that I’m a great listener. I mean if something is going on with you back at school, maybe I can help.”
Sad silence.
“You’re killing me here. I didn’t mean to upset you. That wasn’t my intention.” She turns to me, and there is a vulnerability there that slaps me across the face. This side of Jess is completely disarming. It’s soft and exposed, so unlike the girl I’ve been accustomed to. This aura of fragility calls out to my own insecurities. Even though I hate to be the cause that brought this on, I have to admit, I also like seeing this side of her. That maybe even though her bite is fierce, she is still just a girl who worries she’s caused concern to her parents. I’m starting to see maybe Jess is a little bit more than meets the eye.
“I know that they’re worried, but I’m fine. So can we drop the whole wanting to bond or whatever moment you're looking for?” The only reason I don’t push it is because Jess’s face speaks volumes for her, even if she doesn’t come right out and say it. She didn’t want to leave Plymouth at all. Any other teenage girl would be stoked to go back to the freedom and life of a college student. Jessica though isn’t as inclined. I get that. I love my parents, and I get that homesick feeling once in a while. Jess though, isn’t only missing her parents. If the party I attended at her place a week ago is any indication, then the girl is missing a whole community of individuals that constitute as her family. Growing up with so much love all around you is bound to leave its mark. My first assessment of Jess being a spoilt girl was on the mark after all, but she is only guilty of being spoilt by love. That isn’t a bad thing, but it does have its disadvantages. Being apart from that must suck ass. No wonder her parents are concerned.
Before I know it, we’re already at her dorm. I want to say more, say anything really, but even before she opens the door, a pretty blond is knocking on Jess’s side window. It’s the first time I see her smile all morning.
“Izzy!” Jess yells out hugging the girl tightly. Her friend probably thinks she’s just happy to see her, but I’m starting to read this girl a little better. Jess is hugging her friend in search of comfort to ease an aching heart.
“Jess! I’m so happy you’re here!” says Izzy, with a heavy British accent. “You arrived in the nick of time, too. Drew and I were just off to get some lunch. Something nice and greasy! I missed American junk food so much!”
“Izzy, you were only in London for little over a week. I’m positive you guys have McDonald's in the UK, too,” she laughs walking to the back of my car. I hand her her duffle bag, to which she offers me a soft thank you.
“So where’s Drew at?” Jess asks the over-excited blond. She looks like a life-sized Barbie. Cute sure, but side by side with Jess, she pales in comparison.
“Over there. Drew! Yo! Drew! Get your fine ass over here,” Izzy yells in the direction of a guy talking with another, on the other side of the road. Yep, too much energy for me. The guy just waves at them saying to give him five minutes. Well, I guess that’s that. Jess is officially off my hands, and I can go back to my frat and get settled in myself. Only one thing is wrong with this whole scenario. How the hell am I supposed to look after Jess if we aren’t going to be friends?
“So Jess, can I call you?” I almost stutter knowing full well that we got an attentive audience in blondie over there. Shit is that the best I got? She looks at me as if I’ve grown an extra head I didn’t know about.
“Why?” she asks crossing her arms over her chest. Again, it’s like pulling teeth with her.
“Does there have to be a reason?” I ask a little bit more on my game, even though blondie isn’t alone anymore watching this car wreck, but Drew, or whatever she called him, is right next to her, giving me a smirk. I take a second look at him and pin precisely why his face is familiar. It may just be the in I need, if Jess continues to ice me out.
“I think we said all we needed to say to each other in the car, don’t you? But I will accept a ride back home for spring break if you’re heading there anyway.” Well, that’s progress, I guess.
“Sure thing, but we’ll see each other before then,” I tell her not hiding the fact she won't be able to get away that easy. I see another small blush reach her cheeks and it only fuels my certainty that whether she likes it or not, she’s seeing me again.
“We’ll see,” she mumbles and turns her back to me and joins her friends. Blond Barbie and what I can only describe as Surfer Ken, look oddly amused at our exchange of words, and I would bet my left foot that Jess was going to have to spend half the afternoon talking about me just to fend off her curious friends. Just needed to tie up one more loose end for this to work. As the saying goes, if Mohammed won’t go to the mountain then the mountain needed to go to Mohammed. I knew enough of Jessica to know she was as stubborn as a mule, which meant she could easily ditch my calls until she needed a ride back home. My presence though would be harder for her to ignore. Luckily, Surfer Ken was in my Humanities class as well as his roommate. One call to the right person and I would be able to get what I needed. I pull out my phone and search for my frat brother’s digits and hit call.
“Well if it isn’t the illustrious Quaid Stevens! You’ve been MIA recently. Too high up to not give a call to the little people over Christmas?” Grant says on the other line. Shit, I forgot what a prick Grant could sometimes be. I hear noise in the background, which means he’s also probably back from whatever holiday destination his family decided to go to this year. My money is on Aspen.
“Yeah, well you know how the holidays get,” I try to ignore his little backhanded insult.
“I bet. Can’t say I had much time to stay in touch either. Between skiing the slopes during the day and the hot bunnies at night, I was pretty busy myself. Next year you should come with us. My parents’ chalet in Aspen is off the charts.” See? Easy money.
“Sure, maybe next year.” And when I say next year, I really mean when hell freezes over.
“So, I gather this isn’t a social call, so what can I do for you?” At least he cuts to the chase. Grant might be a prick, but he isn’t a fool.
“That kid Evan still following you around like a lost puppy?” I hear him scoff out his response.
“If he knows what’s good for him, yeah. Why?”
“I need him to get me something.”
“The kid is squeaky clean, Q. What could he possibly get you that you can’t get yourself?”
“A girl’s schedule.”
Chapter 10
Jess
“So how did it go today?” Izzy asks before I have time to sling myself onto my bed. I’m too tired to talk, so I pull out my phone instead and show her the pic I got one of the girls from the hotel to take of me. Izzy takes it out my hand and starts laughing like the mad woman she is. I just lay on the bed looking up at the ceiling with a big grin on my face.
“Oh my God! This is priceless!!” Her laughter can probably be heard from down the hall, but the pic was taken for that effect. I’m wearing a black and white maid uniform that looks more put together than anything I own. Crisp white shirt with a badge stating my name with the word Trainee above it. Knee length black skirt accompanied by shined black loafers and to complete the assemble my hair is pulled up into a proper bun. I’d look immaculate if it weren't for the fact t
hat I was down on my knees with yellow plastic gloves almost reaching my elbows and making my way to scrub the toilet in front of me. I’m all smiles and giving the camera a thumbs up. The first thing I did was send the picture to my big brother with the heading, “Loving Life” and then below “Pay up Sucker! I’m in to win it!” Just to make it clear to his skeptical view of me being able to do this job, I went and even added the picture to our family’s Facebook page. My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating with messages ever since.
“This is some epic stuff right here! Mind if I send it to Drew?!”
“Go, nuts babe!” I tell her. I wish that I could just lay here the rest of the day, but I got an essay to write, three books to read, and a test to study for. I was also up into the wee hours just to catch up on my websites, and since I have to be at the hotel at 6 in the morning, this meant I only got a couple of hours of sleep in me. Not rest for the wicked, but first, a shower will do me good. I smell like Lysol and bleach, and even my hair has a funky smell to it.
“Drew thinks you got bigger balls than any guy he knows!” Izzy divulges.
“Text Drew that he’s meeting the wrong guys then. Okay, I’m just gonna grab a quick shower then I’m off to the library,” I tell Izzy already grabbing my toiletries basket.
“You wanna grab lunch first in the cafeteria? Drew’s meeting me there too.” Totally forgot about lunch or even breakfast for that matter. Unless you count the gallon of coffee I needed to keep myself awake last night, I haven’t had solids for a while.
“Sure, just give me ten minutes, and we can go.”
Thirty minutes later all three of us have our plates in front of us in the dining hall. It's past one, but the cafeteria is still hectic with college students trying to refuel themselves. The food isn’t gourmet or like my mom’s cooking, but it gets the job done. Izzy is still pissed that she can’t get ‘Bangers & Mash” as the comfort food she says does wonders for her energy. Izzy is a pretty energetic girl on her own, so I fear what she’d be like even more hyped up. We’re all still messing about, talking crap when someone pulls the seat next to me and makes himself comfortable.
