by Jean Oram
He gave her a small smile. She gave a little bounce on the balls of her feet. She couldn't wait to tell him all about the outreach program session she'd attended with Nash. Between the speaker and Nash, they'd convinced her she should start a program. The organizer had handed her everything she needed—it was like being handed a program in a box and all she had to do was unpack it over the next couple of months.
"I thought we agreed we'd check in on weekends only," he asked, leaning against the door. He looked concerned and as though he was about to do something he knew he'd regret.
She paused and said carefully, "I missed the weekend and wanted to talk to you about something."
He let the door swing open and moved to the kitchen just off the entry. Beth blinked as she took in the disheveled room. Beer cans and empty pizza boxes. Poker night had obviously been reinstated. She sat at the table across from Oz and he leaned back in his chair and watched her, arms crossed like he was protecting himself. Feeling self-conscious in her work clothes while he was in a pair of sweats and a tee, she kept her eyes on the opened bottle of Johnny Walker. It sat next to a melted tray of ice cubes and a shot glass. Whisky was not Oz's usual drink of choice.
"Is this a bad time?" Most mornings he was showered and finishing breakfast by now. "Maybe I should have waited until Sunday?"
"It's fine." He continued to stare at her.
She squinted at him. "Aren't you going to work?"
He shook his head. He looked sad.
She opened her mouth to tell him he had to work, but quickly switched to something less likely to cause a fight. "How was your weekend?"
"Fine." His arms tightened across his chest. "Yours?" His jaw flexed and Beth drew in a long, slow breath, feeling as though she had parachuted into a minefield.
"I wanted to tell you about that," she began. All weekend she'd wanted to text him about her plans and ideas, but had held off as part of their agreement. This morning, while getting ready for work, she'd just about bubbled over from excitement thinking of how she was heading over to share her news with her best friend. But now she wasn't sure how to dive in when he seemed inexplicably peeved.
"I've already heard all about your weekend," he said, his eyes shutting like he was dealing with a sharp pain.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine."
She met his eye. "Are you sure? You don't look too good."
"I'm Fine."
She really wanted his advice and approval about the outreach—especially since it would affect his weekends once they were back together, too. "Do you think it's a good idea?"
Oz gave her a hard look that was difficult to decipher. The vibe coming off him told her something was wrong. Really, really wrong.
"What?" she asked, unease settling over her like an itchy wool sweater.
"Giving your ring back, moving out, then telling the town you're doing it with the new doctor followed by taking off to the city to spend all weekend with him? Don't you think that might be what's wrong?"
Beth's skin grew cold. "I was joking."
"Nobody's laughing."
Her face heated with guilt. She never would have guessed that he would assume the worst from any rumors that surfaced about her. He was usually so good about ignoring rumors and saying there had to be another side to the story.
"It was a training session. I'm starting an outreach program." She tried to meet his eyes, begging him to believe her. To trust her. To know her heart was still his.
"It's only a break, Beth. We're still exclusive. We're still engaged."
"I know that! Jesus could you trust me a little? What the hell?"
"I'm finding it a little hard right now."
"Oz! I was joking for Christ's sake!" Beth slammed her hands on the table and stood.
"You're not the kind of girl who jokes about that kind of thing!" Oz stood, his face red. He grabbed the bottle of whisky and took a swig, his face contorting as he swallowed.
Beth planted her hands on the tabletop and leaned forward. "Do you know how hard the rumor mill is working me over right now? Do you have any idea how much their probing and speculation hurts?"
He pointed a finger at her. "You're the one who chose to leave your ring here. You're the one who chose to move out! You're the one who chose the doctor."
"I didn't choose him!" She slapped her hands on the table and leaned forward, glaring at Oz. "Do you really think I could have stayed here without you and that I'd choose some city man? I moved out because you wanted me out of your life!"
He stood, echoing her posture, bringing them almost nose-to-nose. "I don't want you out of my life, dammit!"
"You broke up with me! You didn't tell me until it was too late that you wanted to change your life. You didn't give me a chance."
"It's a goddamned break so I can get my shit together!" His breath pushed against her face.
"You don't even love me—"
Oz grabbed her face in his large hands and shoved his lips against hers, silencing her. He kissed her slowly and with meaning. Legs trembling from the effort of leaning over the table, she collapsed against the tabletop when he released her.
"What was that?" she whispered.
"The truth."
She looked up at his soft brown eyes, the burn of Johnny Walker still on her tongue. She blinked and shook her head, avoiding his gaze. She slid into her chair, trying to make sense of him, his thoughts, his actions. Why was he kissing her with his 'I want to take you to bed' kiss when he'd been so blatantly clear about them being chaste? About her not tempting him because he needed space to think.
Still leaning over the table he said, "You can't move on, Beth. Give me a chance."
"I'm not moving on." She kept her head down. She knew if she looked up into those warm brown eyes that she'd beg for him to take her back. Looking around the room she understood just how much he needed that space to figure out what he wanted. The old Oz would have laughed at rumors about her being with a city man. He would have been overjoyed with her outreach plan. This was not her Oz. Her Oz was MIA.
It was just like the family Christmas photos her mom used to send out as their Christmas card. Every year, wearing a new festive sweater, she'd hand Cynthia and her their own kid-sized versions and instruct them to try them on without removing the tags. They'd try them on in the living room and her mother would be so pleased with how they looked, she'd pull out her camera and pose the girls in front of the decorated tree. Every year. And every year when Beth went looking for the sweater to wear on Christmas Eve she could never find a trace of it. The sweaters disappeared just as they had appeared—hers to wear briefly, to revel in the joy of having one just like everyone else, but then it would slip away when she wasn't watching.
And right now, that's how their relationship felt. The snapshots and memories were proof of its existence, but she couldn't hold it in her hands or ever truly own it. She feared that, somehow, she had looked away for too long and it had disappeared.
"You need longer than a month, don't you?" she asked quietly.
He withdrew to the chair across from her, shoulders rounded with defeat.
Silence pleated the air between them and Oz's legs began jiggling. He stood and moved to the patio door, bracing his arms against its frame. He hung his head so his forehead rested against the glass.
"You can't rush this," he said, barely audible.
"You can't kiss me like that and then push me away." Emotion cloaked her voice and she stood. "I'll wait for you, but don't toy with me."
***
Beth burst into Katie's basement suite, her body aching like she'd run a marathon. "He kissed me," she announced before realizing Katie was watching a chick flick. The kind of movies she mocked at great length. She froze in the doorway and Katie turned off the TV, turning to her with a massive smile.
"He did?"
She fell onto the couch beside Katie. "But I don't know what it means. "
Even though she'd had all day to settle her feeling
s, she still felt as though her world was resting on a bed of loose marbles. Somehow their relationship's short-term break had turned into an open-ended disaster.
"He still looooooves you," Katie said in a sticky sweet voice.
Beth touched her lips. The pressure of his mouth was still hot and furious against hers despite the hours that had lapsed between the kiss and now. "I can't help shaking the feeling that there's something wrong. Really wrong." She turned to face Katie. "He drank Johnny Walker right from the bottle and the place is a mess. He isn't going into work."
Katie frowned.
Beth wove the hem of her sweater between her fingers. "I think he actually believed the rumors."
Katie frowned. "Huh. Well, you know what? I think that's a good thing." She nudged Beth and smiled.
Beth shoved her back, unimpressed. "How?"
"If you're out flirting with other men, he'll get over his cold feet and come marching back. There's nothing like knowing another man is after your cherry pie to make you hustle."
"Katie," Beth sighed. "I was only joking about that stuff and look where it got me. He totally misinterpreted attending the training session with Nash. We're moving away instead of closer." Panic swelled inside her and she jumped up to pace across the small living space, making the floor-length curtains flutter.
"I hate to say it... but if your relationship is as great as you think..."
Beth felt Katie watching her and she bristled, dreading what her friend's next words might be and if they might be those same dark worries she'd been persistently shaking off at every turn for the past week. Katie continued, picking her words carefully. "Wouldn't he want you by his side if he's going through a premature midlife crisis or whatever it is?"
Beth blinked back tears. "I thought so, but Nash said—"
"Nash?"
"Dr. Leham."
"I know who he is, but you were talking to him about your Oz problems?"
"What?" Beth asked defensively. "He's a good listener. And he believes Oz is trying to protect me. That Oz needs time to sort things out alone. I mean, it's pretty noble of Oz to... well... you know?"
Katie squinted at Beth. "He's protecting you by making you homeless?"
"I chose to move out. I could have stayed." Beth worked to fight the coming tears and wandered over to Katie's shelf of snow globes. One by one, she picked them up and gave them a shake, making snow fall down on tropical scenes, snowmen, cityscapes, and fairytale settings.
"What if everything changes? What if after he finds himself we aren't compatible any more?" She watched the snow drift and swirl down, and how within seconds the snow globe world was back to normal.
Envious. She was envious of a snow globe's world. She sighed and turned to Katie. "He already seems like a different person." She slumped back into place alongside Katie.
Katie scratched her cheek, her eyes showing her worry. "Well... don't you think it's worth waiting to find out?"
Beth thought of her lonely nights on the hide-a-bed and how much she missed hearing Oz tell her about his day while wrapped in his arms. How during the day she'd start to text him about something he'd find funny and have to stop, or how she'd pick up something in the store, thinking of him, and have to put it back again. How empty and sad she felt. It was like mourning him except he was still alive. Living a life without her.
"Of course it is," she sighed. "I just need to find a way to help him while still giving him space. He's struggling and I want to show him that I'm still here if he needs me. He doesn't have to push me away. I can handle whatever he's going through."
***
Beth cradled the career and self-help books in her arms and bumped her office door open with her butt. She dropped the books on her filing cabinet and grinned. Her lunch break was over, but the inspiration and hope she'd felt in the fresh April air hadn't ended. Something flowery had been blooming near the library, tinting the breeze with a gentle sweetness that had made her never want to stop inhaling. The scent had made the world feel new and as if anything was possible. Even getting back together with Oz. She slipped her cardigan off her shoulders and hung it on the hook by the door. All she had to do was take the books to Oz during their coffee on Sunday and that fresh spring air would do the rest. He'd be convinced that it was time to figure out what his dream was—really and truly—and he'd etch out a plan and follow it. His world would be lit on fire and he'd yank her back into his arms where he'd never, ever let her go.
And unlike Katie who thought she should flirt with other guys to motivate Oz, she knew she had time. She was young and free and the desperation she felt a week ago had ebbed away. There was no rush, especially now that she was crazy-busy organizing her new outreach program. Only two measly months to go. She grabbed an overstuffed file folder off her desk and flipped through the top couple of papers, looking for the permit form she needed to complete and drop off at town hall after work.
She scooted to the door, pushing it closed. The latch failed and it drifted open a few inches. She nudged it again and within seconds it creaked open again. Sighing she put down her papers and logged into her computer. She fired off a quick work order to maintenance and finished filling out her permit.
Rubbing her eyes, she placed the completed permit form in her purse. Wasn't she the gal getting stuff taken care of today? Two things off her plate and she'd only been back in her office for ten minutes. And yesterday she'd done pretty well too. She'd used half her paycheck to replace the alternator and repair a few things on her car she'd been waiting for Oz to take care of. When word got back to him he'd see that he had the space to make the moves he needed to change his life without her assuming he was the same old Oz. They could both change and still love each other. Her grin grew even further. He was going to be stinkin' proud of her. Maybe this week would even be the one where he ended the break.
She pulled out her outreach sign-up forms for one last proofreading before printing off a stack. Voices drifted down the hall and not wanting to be distracted, she rolled herself over to shut the door. As she reached out to give it a tap, she caught a glimpse of blond hair swaying like a satin cape and she quickly scooted behind the door, her heart hammering. That hair could only belong to one person: Mandy.
"Why don't you date him?" a voice asked Mandy. Beth held in a gasp, clenching her chair's armrests to keep herself from sprinting out into the hall and saying something she'd be sure to regret.
She'd heard the monsoon of rumors about how Mandy was Oz's new confidant. About how they were hanging out around town as friends. Everyone was waiting for her to go screaming into the streets to yell that he was her man and for Mandy to back the hell off. She could feel it like Gran could feel rain coming in her joints.
Mandy laughed. "What men want and what they need are two totally different things. Sometimes it's up to us women to do what's right for a man."
"Are you talking about Frankie or Oz?" asked the voice as they drifted down the hall.
Beth stood and put her ear to the hinge side of the door, but could only make out laughter and murmurs as the two women continued on their way.
Beth rubbed her temples, a massive headache closing in. What did she mean?
She glanced at the career and self-help books and put her head in her hands. Did Oz want or need space? Were the books what he needed? If Oz was hanging around Mandy, was she a want or a need? And what was she supposed to do that would be the right thing for Oz? The right thing for her?
Chapter 6
The ring shimmered in the June sunlight. Beth gazed at it, emotions churning. A happily ever after. A perfect proposal and dedication of love for the whole town to see in the square on Main Street during the annual Sports Day carnival. Bells jangled through the air as a teen won an oversized teddy bear for his girlfriend. Envy rose up, rubbing a raw spot in her chest.
"Isn't it amazing?" her sister asked.
The constant crush of people swilling around them combined with the stench of overheated frying oil be
came too much. Beth choked back her envy and pulled her sister into a fierce hug. "I'm so happy for you." This was what Cynthia needed: a reward at the end of a long stint of taking care of everyone and growing up too soon.
Beth swiped at her eyes as she released her sister. But her sister was naturally strong and independent. She didn't have to work at it. Cynthia was like Katie. They were happy, free, and independent without men.
Whereas she was still in an unhappy limbo. It had been almost three months since Oz asked for his break and nothing had changed. Nothing. Oz hadn't read the library books. He still didn't know what he wanted to do with his life and it looked as though everything was falling to pieces around him. And yet he still pushed her back, not allowing her to stand beside him or clear a path.
Terrified of rocking their sinking boat, she kept giving him one more week before she pressed him into taking some sort of action—any action—and kept hoping that this would be the week where he figured everything out. Everywhere she looked people were hooking up, getting engaged, and falling in love. There was no justice and she was tired of it. He needed to make an effort she could see.
Straightening her back she decided today was the day. Today was the day she would take a definitive action to push Oz out of his rut and into real life again.
Her sister, beaming like crazy, waved to her new fiancé, Dan, who was leaning against the oak, grinning like the dog who had finally caught the mailman. Cynthia hugged Beth's arm. "He convinced me that you'll be okay. That I can let go and live my life." Her sister rested a cool hand against Beth's cheek. "You will be okay, won't you?"
"Yeah, of course." Beth tried to shrug off her sister.
"It'll all work out for you, Beth."
Beth pushed her sister away. "Go give your man a kiss, Cynthia." If they kept talking she'd end up bawling in the center of town—just when the rumors were finally beginning to die down around her and Oz.
She watched her sister jog over to Dan and flop herself into his arms. Beth wandered off to watch the baseball games, settling herself in the shade of a large tree. She waved to Katie who was on the other side of the diamond chatting with her father. Her friend had spent the past two months nudging her into other men in the movie theater's lineups and trying to set Beth up with blind dates, double dates, and plain old dates in an effort to make Beth look like a hot commodity her brother was about to lose if he didn't spring into action. But each time Beth would blush and step away, refusing the hook up.
