Lost on the Way

by Isabel Jolie

  The sun goes down behind the New Jersey skyline, and the temperature drops. The dark brown water transitions to a murky black. Lights reflect off the darkness in patches. An occasional horn sounds in the background, punctuated by a shrill siren or raised voices.

  I didn’t bring my phone with me out here. There’s no point. She hasn’t texted or called in days. This, right here…this is my new life. It sucks.

  I have no appetite and no desire to eat alone. I’ll flip something on until I fall asleep. In the morning, I’ll grade papers. I’ll let Schlosberger know I won’t be making any of the upcoming deadlines. This is a weekend without Maggie. The life I lead now. It’s all for Maggie. I love her enough to ensure she gets the best of everything.

  When I reach the landing of my apartment building, my super, Scott, is standing in front of my door, and the door is wide open.

  “Scott, what’s going on?”

  Ollie, Sam’s younger brother, fills my doorway. “Jason! There you are. What the fuck? Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”

  “Returned your…? What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” I push past him.

  “Man, I’ve been trying to reach you for days. You wouldn’t answer your door last night. Or today. I was worried, okay?” He’s sheepish, as he should be. What the fuck? I didn’t answer because I didn’t fucking want to.

  The headache I’ve been nursing all day throbs, and I rub my forehead. I want to be alone.

  Ollie stands in front of me, silent.

  “Get the fuck out.” I grunt out the words, like some sort of injured animal.

  “Man. It’s not like you to not return my calls. I got scared. Okay?” He reaches for me, and it’s too much.

  “I’m not an invalid. What the fuck did you think? Get out. Go.” I clench my fists to control the anger and all kinds of other emotions flooding me. This is my apartment. My home. My privacy. He has no right.

  Boots on my hardwoods echo, and Sam enters the den.

  “You too? You’re supposed to be in…” I stop. He should be away with his new girlfriend on a weekend I helped him plan, but it doesn’t matter. “You know what? I don’t even want to know. Both of you, get the fuck out of my apartment. Now.”

  Holy shit. The room blurs and it’s like I can’t breathe. My head. My chest. Everything fucking hurts. I storm down the hall and slam the bedroom door, trusting they’ll leave me the fuck alone and close the door on their way out. What the hell were they thinking? That I’d off myself?

  This sucks. It absolutely sucks. But it’s not like I’m entertaining suicide. Like that’s an option. People like Adam die when they want to live. I’m not going to kill myself after surviving cancer. After all, I’m the lucky one.

  Chapter 32

  Maggie

  “They gave you four weeks’ pay when you resigned?” Yara stands in the doorway, gobsmacked. She’s working from home today, something she does every Friday and most Mondays.

  Flattened cardboard boxes, stacked several inches high, block the narrow path between my bed and the wall. It’s day one of packing.

  “Crazy, huh? She wasn’t mad at all. She told me it’s standard when an employee leaves and goes to a competitor.” The roll of tape I need to reconstruct the flattened boxes must have rolled underneath the bed, as I can’t find it anywhere. I get down on my hands and knees, searching.

  “I’ve never heard of that. I mean, I’ve heard of people being escorted out of the building when they leave to work for a competitor. But the four weeks’ pay, everyone would be jumping to competitors if that were normal. Did you have to do anything?”

  “No.” I stand, my hunt for tape unsuccessful. “She had me sign some papers and gave me a box to clear out my stuff, but she was super friendly. Happy for me. Offered to be there if I ran into any questions in my director role.”

  Yara leans against the door frame, both hands wrapped against her oversized coffee mug. “What kind of papers?”

  I can’t find the roll of tape and want to scream. I circle, surveying the disaster of my room and the crapload of stuff I need to pack.

  “Maggie.” Yara’s stern use of my name brings me back to her.

  “Papers. Non-disclosure agreements. Standard stuff when going to a competitor. Although a competitor doesn’t feel right. We’re all on the same team. Raising money for research to fight cancer and other diseases.”

  “I agree. It seems crazy.”

  “It’s because McLoughlin is run by a politician. They’re all about NDAs.”

  “So, just like that, you’re done with work? Paid leave for the next four weeks?”

  I scoot onto the side of my bed. “Yeah. It felt weird, being ushered out so quickly after giving my notice. I worked there for eight years, and poof, it’s over. Goodbye, everyone.”

  In truth, I’m still reeling from it all. A change in job, move to a different city, saying goodbye to my friends. Moving away from Jason. If I think too much about what this means, what it will mean to our friendship, I nearly crumble. I’m broken apart inside. The pain is intense and follows me everywhere. I feel it in the morning when I wake, at night when I curl into a ball and will it away. What keeps me moving forward is the knowledge this move is for the best. Jason and me, what’s been going on between us, it’s not healthy.

  This move is a good thing. I’ll start my new job in three weeks. Zoe’s going into Chicago this week to check out some apartments I found online. If one of them works out, I could be moving by the end of the week, giving me time to get settled in my new city before starting a new job.

  “Are they giving you a going-away party?”

  “There was no time.” We’re a small office. Not many people leave, but we do usually bring out cakes. The last time someone left was a few years ago when Mary Elizabeth was on maternity leave and decided she wasn’t coming back. So, it was more of a baby shower than a going-away gathering. She still helps out on special events in a freelance capacity.

  There’s a knock on the door, then the sound of the lock turning carries down the hall.

  Yara turns to me with a grin. “One guess who that is.”

  I leap over the stack of cardboard boxes so I can peer down the hallway just as Jason pushes the door open. One arm is wrapped around a vase of flowers. He must have brought my weekly flower delivery by the office and learned I no longer worked there.

  Yara practically shouts down to him, checking her wrist for dramatic effect. “I expected you an hour ago, Longevite.”

  He glares at her as he shuts the door.

  “You didn’t give two weeks’ notice?”

  I step past Yara to retrieve my flowers. “I did.”

  The flowers tickle my face as I breathe them in. This week, he picked an eclectic mix of fragrant wildflowers from the market. The bunch includes daisies, apple blossoms, honeysuckle, and blue hyacinth. I place them on the kitchen table and admire them. Sadness overwhelms me. These will be the last flowers Jason gives me. An era is coming to an end.

  “They said you don’t work there anymore?”

  “They gave me four weeks’ paid leave and wished me luck.” His eyes widen. “It sounds confrontational, but it wasn’t. Jane was incredibly nice. And it’s good. It will give me time to get settled in before work starts. Do you want any coffee? Something to drink?”

  “Don’t you find it suspicious that she gets upset you shared financial information with me, and then days later you’re offered a job in Chicago where Senator McLoughlin lives?”

  Yara adds, “They had her sign NDAs.”

  I frown at her for stirring the pot. She’s settled herself down in our big, comfy chair, apparently to observe Jason and me interact. She’s fully aware things are not good between the two of us and she should give us some privacy. But that’s not Yara. Not by a longshot.

  “They gave you four weeks’ pay in exchange for signing an NDA?”

  “When you say it like that it sounds sketchy.”

  “It is s
ketchy, Maggie.” He steps forward and uses his height advantage to intimidate.

  I’m over this. I skirt away from him and head into the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee. He follows me.

  “Maggie, doesn’t this bother you?”

  I slam the coffee mug down on the counter.

  “Is it so hard to believe my skill set is unique? That someone might want my experience? That I earned this job?” Yes, he might not see much to value in me, but that doesn’t mean no one will.

  He stares up at the ceiling and waits. He can’t stand confrontation. I know this. I show him my back as I pour my coffee.

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re getting out of that company. That’s what’s important.” In a lower voice, almost to himself, he adds, “Moving on.”

  There’s a sadness to him, a melancholy that hits me bone-deep. I ache for him. He’s going to have a harder time on his own than I will, and deep down I’ve always known this. Maybe that’s why it’s taken me so long to step outside the clutches of our friendship. He’s an introvert of the highest order, and it takes time to get to know the considerate, sweet guy he is. Even Yara, who has known him for years, has yet to warm to him, and I tell her all the good things.

  I wrap my arms around my friend, and he holds me. We stand together, not letting each other go, even when Yara walks into the kitchen to refresh her coffee.

  I close my eyes and burrow against him, memorizing the moment. His subtle Tom’s of Maine deodorant mixed with fresh soap scent. I can visualize the all-natural, homemade bar of milky brown I handpicked for him. The fresh, ironed crispness of his shirt, tucked into his thick cotton brown slacks, and those navy blue and orange sneakers. The steady thud of his heart, vibrating through my own.

  He tugs at my hair. I lift my head, off his chest, reluctant. I don’t want us to end. His lips fall to mine, and I open. He tastes of coffee with a hint of mint toothpaste. Our kiss is slow and tender. Tears coat my cheeks because I know it’s goodbye, and I love him with all my soul.

  He trails soft kisses over my wet cheeks and dots my forehead with kisses, as I trace the lines of his bicep, holding on as long as I can.

  “I’ll come see you in Chicago.”

  “I wish you could see me as yours, and not as Adam’s.” I breathe out the words I’ve thought so many times but never said. The words I’ve silently wished over birthday cakes, and when I’ve caught a stray eyelash before blowing it out into the cosmos.

  “I wish he had lived for you.” His response catches me off guard. He pulls away, head down, shoulders caved inward. He looks back, once, right before he closes the door.

  Chapter 33

  Maggie

  “What’re you doing here? Uh-uh. Back on up and go home. We’ve had enough of you.”

  Yara’s voice echoes through the dingy metal walls of the U-Haul I rented to drive to Chicago. Zoe flew out, and she’s driving back with me. It’s gonna be a sister adventure, a road trip for the books.

  I crawl over some boxes. I had been checking everything for stability. Since Yara owns most of the furniture in her place, I don’t have enough stuff to fill the entire U-Haul, but I have too much stuff to fit in a regular car.

  I peer around the side of the van. Jason’s back is to me, and Zoe and Yara appear to be telling him exactly what they think. They’ve been helping me to see he hasn’t been my friend, and he hasn’t treated me well. Still, he’s been my best friend for over ten years. We’ve always been there for each other. I’m going to miss him. I’m going to miss this era in my life.

  “Jason? You came to say goodbye?”

  He peers into the van. “There you are.”

  I side-eye Zoe and Yara, mentally entreating them to give us some space. I have no doubt they had planned on ushering him away without my ever knowing he stopped by.

  Yara’s girlfriend, Jennifer, loops her arm through Yara’s and whispers something in her ear. Zoe stomps her foot and huffs, her outward tells that she’s annoyed at the situation.

  “I’m gonna go up and check for any more boxes. Fill up our water bottles, too. You need anything?” Zoe pointedly asks me, giving me an opportunity to keep her there or to join her.

  “I’m good. Thanks.”

  Zoe ascends the steps to our apartment, and Jennifer nudges Yara forward to follow. I sit down on the back of the U-Haul. It’s a bitterly cold day, but the sky is clear, and that’s about as much as one can hope for on a November moving day.

  Jason shoves his hands into his back pockets and kicks his sneaker up against a flattened soda can, sending it several inches to the curb. A white sedan pulls up to park in the unclaimed parallel parking space behind mine, forcing Jason to step closer to me.

  “It was nice of you to stop by.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  I flick some dirt off my jeans before meeting his dark brown eyes. “Nah. I knew you’d stop by at some point.”

  “I’ve been looking at airfare. I can come out this coming weekend and help you unpack. Get your TV set up, hook up anything you need. You might need shelves or something built.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have Will to help. My parents are taking care of Natalie, so he’s driving in to help unpack. Then he’ll drive Zoe home.”

  “That’s this weekend. He won’t be there next weekend, right?”

  He steps forward, eliminating most of the space between us. I suppress the urge to push him back and work to ignore how my heartrate spikes and hope emerges. There is no reason to hope, and my reaction to this, to my friend standing near me, is exactly why I need to move. We had a good friendship that worked well for us, but somewhere along the way, it stopped working. It became unhealthy. At least from my side, our friendship is no longer a positive in my life. It hurts, and that’s a sign I need to let go.

  He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Is it better if I arrive on a Friday or a Saturday?”

  “Jason.” I reach for his hand, lift it off my face, and hold it on my lap. “I don’t know. When are finals? Don’t you have a lot to do before the break?”

  “Maggie, you’ll always be my priority. I can grade on the plane. You know, I was thinking about it, and we can call each other when we’re watching TV, and it will be like we’re together. We’ll just keep the phone on speaker.”

  “You’re a goof.” I squeeze his hand, and he intertwines our fingers. “Remember the last time we moved? Our drive from New Hampshire to New York?”

  “Yeah, I do. It feels like I should be moving with you to Chicago. Like it should be me and you in the cab of that U-Haul driving away.”

  I agree. But for obvious reasons, that’s not happening. He leans against my legs, his lips inches from mine.

  “It’s not what you want. You’ve worked so hard for Columbia. This is where you should be.”

  “I meant what I said, Maggie. I’d move in a heartbeat if you asked.”

  “Jason, don’t you think we need the time apart? We’re in our early thirties and spend all our time with our friend. It’s time we develop a real relationship with someone. Both of us. And it’s not going to happen with us together all the time. I’m thinking of this as a transition to the next phase of our life.”

  His thumb passes over my lips, ever so softly. I gather my courage and look up. He gazes with intent, as if memorizing every aspect of me. Then his head dips, and my breath catches, and I plant both palms on his chest and push.

  “Jason, what the hell? You tell me you can’t be with me as more than a friend, but then you go to kiss me. You are pulling me along, playing with me like a cat toying with a mouse it’s going to eat. What am I to you? Entertainment?”

  His gaze falls to the ground, and he retreats until the backs of his legs ram up against the white car parked behind him.

  “I can’t do it, Jason. You have no idea how much it hurts me. I want more. If you wanted more, it would be the two of us in this beat-up piece of junk driving to Chicago. So, don’t stand there and
make me feel bad with this dejected expression. Don’t make me feel guilty. Our issue isn’t me. I give you everything.” I choke up and pause, batting back the tears welling in my eyes. I have cried enough. “I gave you everything.”

  “I love you, Maggie. I always will.”

  I back up onto the curb, needing space. Our normal is for me to tell him I love him. I always say it back. But today, I won’t.

  Of course, I do. I do love him. But today is the day when saying it back won’t help either of us. Kissing him back will hurt me. I don’t have any idea what the fuck it does to him.

  He steps up to me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me up next to him, bending down as if he’s going to kiss me again, and it’s the absolute last straw. I push my hands against him, once more, because that’s us. We do everything on repeat. But this is the end. This is when this cycle ends. I take a step backward.

  “Jason, I meant what I said. I need space. Don’t come visit me in Chicago. Do you understand?”

  I wait for his visual recognition, for his silent agreement. His shoulders are rounded, his hands shoved in his front pockets, and he has the saddest expression I’ve ever seen on him. It’s possible it’s the light from the overcast day, but his eyes are so dark I can’t delineate the pupils, and glassy, as if he might cry.

  I’ve never seen him cry, and I can’t bear seeing it today. So, I spin and charge up the stairs to my apartment entrance, leaving him behind.

  Chapter 34

  Jason

  “On a scale of one to ten, where would you say your pain level is today?”

  Shannon asks me the question, clueless as to how many times I’ve been asked that by medical professionals.

  “Ten.” Things can’t get worse.

  I’m staring at a clump of something on her carpet. I don’t care enough to see her reaction. I’m not trying to get a reaction. I want the pain to end, and she’s the last resort. I don’t actually expect she can help, but when you have no other options, and the pain is bad enough, you try anything.