Jane sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out the side window at the passing landscape. From time to time, she would sniffle, but otherwise, she just seemed vacant. Lacey would grab her knee and shake it while checking on her.
Jane would look over at her and give a very weak half smile and shrug then, as if looking at Lacey were too much, she would deeply inhale and shudder out her breath. She refused food the two times they stopped for gas or bathroom breaks. She felt as though if she even tried to eat something she would be sick.
She could not get the image of Wyatt and that girl out of her mind. It made her feel inferior. That girl was so beautiful, and she seemed so polished during lunch. Wyatt had even held her hand on top of the table while they waited for their order. He had never done that with Jane. What was wrong with her, she wondered. Why couldn’t she be what he wanted?
Lacey was able to get them a room at the Hotel Preston, which was easy to get to near the airport. They stopped by the Parthenon on the way to Dollywood. Jane barely glanced at it, so they did not linger. Once at Dollywood, Lacey dragged Jane onto every rollercoaster. By the end of the day and after a funnel cake, Jane was full of adrenaline and not as mopey.
Lacey had gotten them a room at the Roaring Fork. Jane lay down the moment they were in the room.
"Feel like talking?" Lacey asked gently.
Jane shook her head.
"I'm going to take a quick shower. Then maybe we can watch a movie." Lacey said, heading for the bathroom.
Jane laid there listening to the sound of the running water. What had gone wrong, she thought to herself. It was foreign territory for her, the feeling of being in limbo or something even worse than limbo, a seemingly endless plain of unknown. Her insecurities took hold and began chewing away at the careful exterior she had built up around herself in her belief that this break up was temporary.
Her chest felt tight, and she sat up in an effort to take deeper breaths. Lacey, done with her shower, walked back into the main room already dressed for bed, towel drying her hair. The sound of Jane’s labored breathing had been drowned out by the fan in the bathroom.
"Babe," Lacey boomed as she crossed the room and began rubbing Jane on the back. "Here," she said, pulling Jane's knees up. "Put your head between your knees. Alright, deep breaths."
Jane slowly stopped hyperventilating and asked for some water. Her throat felt raw, and even though her head was still between her knees, she felt dizzy. Lacey rushed back with a coffee mug of sink water. Lifting her head, Jane took baby sips. The water burned going down, and she handed the mug to Lacey then ran to the bathroom feeling nauseous. She emptied her stomach and gagged as her body tried desperately to rid her of food that was not there.
Lacey, her ever vigil nurse, held a cool washcloth to her neck until she was done. Jane shakily got to her feet and rinsed her mouth with hotel mouthwash. Lacey had gone in search of ginger ale. Jane stood there at the sink and appraised herself in the mirror. It seemed so obvious at that moment. Of course Wyatt would not want her back. Just look at her. A part of her had always wondered why Wyatt ever seemed to like her. Her mind began to twirl on repeat a cadence of everything she disliked about herself: she was ugly, her forehead was too big, she didn’t have a six-pack, and she wasn’t smart. What if he had never cared about her? Or maybe their whole relationship had been a joke to him.
Jane suddenly felt repulsed by her own reflection. She turned away feeling sick again. Being with Wyatt had somehow validated her. She had measured herself by his opinion of her. She stumbled back into the main room just as Lacey burst through the door triumphantly brandishing a can of Seagram’s ginger ale.
Lacey's glee faltered when she caught Jane's eye. "Still feel sick? I come bearing a magical tummy ache cure," she said, popping the top
Jane sank to the floor and sobbed in earnest. Lacey came to sit with her and did her best to get Jane to talk. Unfortunately, Jane just could not find the words to explain the pain she was feeling. She was supposed to be in Chicago right now with Wyatt. They were going to be a team. He was supposed to want her. The thought that he not only did not want her but had already replaced her brought her to a level of inferiority she did not know existed.
As she sat on the floor with Lacey's arms around her, she sagged further, without energy to cry anymore. She shrugged out of Lacey's embrace and crawled up onto her bed. Lacey came to sit by her and smoothed her hair away from her face. Jane fell asleep, and Lacey folded the coverlet over her. She staggered to her own bed and peered at the alarm clock in the room before turning out the night. It felt later than it actually was. The emotions of that night clearly exhausted them both.
Jane awoke before Lacey and went to the bathroom. Her eyes and nose were red from all of her crying. She brushed her teeth and went to take a shower. She starting going through the motions: shampoo in her hair, lather, soap on her body, and rinse. She wondered why she was even bothering. Feeling all at once overwhelmed, she sat down and let the water cascade all around her. There was a part of her that wanted to give up all together and find a place where it would not hurt anymore. Jane sat there and considered taking her own life.
If she were to do it, how would she? The concept of physical pain terrified her, which ruled out most options. The idea of taking something, falling sleep, and never waking up again appealed to her. She was pulled from her morbid considerations by Lacey poking her head around the bathroom door.
"You okay?" she said. "You’ve been in there for a long time."
Jane jumped to her feet and turned off the water. "Lost track of time," she mumbled, grabbing a towel.
"Want to stay here another night or head home?" Lacey asked.
"I don't know," Jane admitted.
"Let's stay one more day, maybe get some food into you and maybe talk," Lacey suggested.
Jane nodded and went to get dressed while Lacey went to the bathroom. She put on a t-shirt and yoga pants. Not bothering to dry her hair, she twisted it up in a bun. She reeled at what her train of thoughts in the shower had been. Was she losing it, she wondered to herself. She rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled.
"Cold?" Lacey asked, walking out of the bathroom "I can turn off the AC."
"Just got the chills. I'm fine," Jane replied.
"Well, I'm starved. Do you think you can eat anything?" Lacey asked, still in nurse mode.
"I could go for a bagel," Jane admitted. "Does this place have a breakfast bar?"
"No way. Let’s go someplace we can be sure the bagels are fresh. I think I saw a bakery in town." Lacey declared.
Not one to argue with fresh bagels, Jane agreed. Lacey found the bakery, and Jane ordered cinnamon raison while Lacey got an everything bagel. Jane delicately picked at hers while Lacey did her best to consume hers in as few bites as possible.
"What?" she mumbled with a full mouth. "We skipped dinner last night."
Jane could not help but giggle. Maybe she would be okay, Jane thought to herself. That was until a young couple strolled in. At the counter, the guy casually wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulder as she leaned into him. They looked so together it struck Jane with the concept of how alone she was. Lacey saw her expression fall and followed her gaze to the couple.
Seeing the tears brimming in Jane's eyes, she gathered up what was left of Jane's bagel and said, "Hey let's head back to the hotel."
Jane nodded and followed Lacey to the car. She was able to hold herself together until she was safely in the car. Tears streaming down her face, she searched for a napkin to wipe her nose. Lacey quietly drove back to the hotel. Her quiet unnerved Jane, who just was not used to it.
"Lacey, what is wrong with me?" Jane sobbed.
"Nothing is wrong with you Jane," Lacey soothed. "You just need to realize that."
Back in the room, Lacey tried to convince Jane to finish her bagel. She continued to nibble at it just to make Lacey happy.
Lacey paced back and forth. Finally stopping, she turned to Jane and said,
"I blame myself for all of this you know."
"What?" Jane replied, confused.
"If I would have never introduced you to that asshole, you would not be dealing with this. I will never understand what you saw in him, but you just have to know how special and beautiful and talented you are. I know you are hurting right now. I get that. I just wish you could see what a tool he was and know that you deserve so much better." Lacey said pleadingly.
Jane shook her head. Lacey just didn't understand. Wyatt was her life. They were going to get married, have children, and grow old together. No one had ever shown the type of interest in her that he had, and she was sure that no one else ever would. When she said as much to Lacey, she jumped all over her and reminded her to stop living in the past. Yes, she was Southern, and her example was her mother, a woman who never worked. She had to recognize how unrealistic that was in this day and age. Sometimes, Jane wished she lived in another era. Lacey looked at her as though she had grown an extra head and confessed she could never live without her smart phone.
The day went on like that. Jane would cry, and Lacey would do her best to cheer her up. Lacey was just at a loss of what to do. Finally, they decided that they would head back to Richmond in the morning. As much as Jane loved Lacey, she just wanted to be at home in her own bed with her blanket pulled over her head. Lacey ran out at lunchtime and got them each sandwiches. Jane actually ate hers, finally hungry. Full from lunch, they skipped dinner. They stayed up far too late talking. The next morning, Jane almost felt hung over trying to wake up. They had breakfast at a little diner and then hit the road yet again.
On the road, they discussed Jane's plans for the future. Not able to admit becoming a recluse was her main plan, Jane stayed quiet.
“Would you want to live with me?” Lacey asked, arching a brow.
“Versus living with my parents? Um yeah, but I don’t think I want to go to New York either."
Lacey had loosely been planning to move there in the fall.
“What if I put off New York for a bit?” Lacey offered.
“Absolutely not,” Jane said shaking her head. "We will just have to Skype".
The moment she said it out loud, she knew asking Lacey to postpone going after her dream wasn't an option. This was the right choice. She felt like her whole life, she had to a certain extent done whatever someone else wanted her to do. Her mother, Wyatt, sometimes even Lacey. Even if she thought it was for her own good, case in point Dollywood. Lacey felt the truth in what Jane had said as well. It was just hard to not want to help her. Jane was her best friend. She worried about her.
When they pulled up to Jane’s house, Lacey said she would stay for dinner, but since she had left her car at the Martins’ for safekeeping, she was not spending the night. Jane's parents were shocked they were home so soon. They had not expected them for another two weeks at least. Lacey discretely explained that Jane wasn't feeling well so they shortened the trip, skipping their planned stops in New England. Jane's mother got to cooking, and they had fried chicken, corn on the cob, and potato salad on the Martins’ screen porch.
Over dinner, Jane broke the news to her mother about Wyatt. Her mother, while visibly surprised, took it well. Mr. Martin, who had not been aware of the plot to reunite with Wyatt, gaped at Jane's mother. Mrs. Martin blushed under his gaze and mumbled something about it being what Jane wanted. He sat through the rest of dinner with a grim expression on his face. From time to time, he would reach out and pat Jane's hand when she rested it on the table. His sympathy made her want to cry all over again. All Jane wanted to do was lay down. After Lacey left, that is exactly what she did.
She avoided Lacey's calls and her parent's attempts to discuss her future that first week back. She mooned over pictures and mementos from her time with Wyatt. Her diet consisted mainly of pop tarts and ice cream. By the end of the week, she finally started to contemplate life outside of her parents’ house. Maybe if she had her own place she would not have to deal with the constant questions about how was she doing, or all of the advice she did not ask for. Her dad at one point even felt necessary to tell her there were other fish in the sea.
Jane hoped to find an inexpensive place near the university. True, that meant she may have loud neighbors, but it was fairly safe and less expensive there. Her father could not fault her logic but suggested, given the current economy, she stay at home a couple of months to build up an emergency fund. That way, she would have four months of rent saved up in the off-chance she was not able to work a full month, since her work was not guaranteed.
He also asked if he could inquire among his colleagues if any of them were hiring full-time. It would be much more prudent for her to have full-time employment before she moved out. While this delay was not what she wanted, it was important to her to prove to her parents she was responsible enough to wait until the time was right.
Lacey would be moving in only two weeks. Jane would miss her more than anything but knew this move was a big step for her. Lacey would be crashing on the sofa of a former classmate, who had graduated a couple of years ahead of her. She could live with her for three months rent-free. Lacey also saw this move as a test.
She did not expect to get hired for anything right away. She did want to take the time to go to as many auditions as possible. Similar to what you may hear a prospective bride trying on the perfect dress or someone buying a new car, she mainly wanted to try New York on and see if it fit. If it did, she had no doubt she could thrive. If it did not, she also had no issue packing it up and trying something else.
It was also probably better for Jane that Lacey not be there while Jane tested her own waters of independence. Lacey had a habit of mothering her. She just hated the thought of Jane in pain. She was the sister she had always wanted. There was a bond between them that they had nurtured and was stronger than ever.
Jane returned to her room and pulled out her laptop. She sent an email to the manager of the place where she had temped to see if there were any openings. With any luck, she may know something by the middle of the week. After that, she searched open positions near downtown. They were pretty slim pickings. She sent an email to a couple of her favorite professors to see if any of them were hiring an assistant.
She closed her laptop and shut her eyes, trying to visualize what she wanted out of life. She even considered making one of those dream boards she had heard people talk about. You take or cut out pictures of the things you want to achieve in life and place them on a corkboard as a constant reminder. It is supposed to help bring those dreams to fruition.
Jane’s problem was she wouldn’t even know what to cut out. She wanted an apartment but that would really only depend on what was available when she actually moved out. She also wanted a job but not to actually work just to afford the apartment. That would be the most depressing dream board ever. A cover of a For Rent magazine and a dollar sign.
She closed her eyes tight and whispered a wish out loud, “I just want to be happy." The weight of her wish lifted off of her like a whoosh. She slept like a baby after that. She thought not lying in her own bed for so long would have felt strange. She was wrong. It was amazing.
It was past ten in the morning when she finally woke up and staggered to the kitchen. Her mother raised a brow at her and gestured to the coffee machine. Yum, Jane thought. Her parents always had the good flavored coffee creamers. She made herself a cup and went to sit with her mother.
“Would you like some toast with jam?” her mother asked.
“Yes, please,” Jane said.
She sat with her mother as she enjoyed her toast and coffee.
“Plans for the day?” Mrs. Martin asked.
“Maybe go to the pool. Wanna come?” Jane replied.
Her mother looked thrilled for the invite and accepted. Her father was out playing golf with some of his buddies, so her mom was happy to get out of the house. They changed, grabbed their pool stuff, and left. After getting bored with her book, Jane turned to regard he
r mother. She was in her early fifties and had aged well. She seemed to still love Jane’s dad. She would catch him patting her butt or winking at her from time to time so she assumed he was still happy with her. They had been married for almost thirty years. How do you find that, she wondered?
Her mother, feeling Jane’s gaze, said “Everything okay, Jane?”
Feeling tears threatening, Jane nodded briskly and got up to compose herself in the ladies’ room. She splashed cool water on her face and rubbed her neck, stretching it from side to side. Jane returned to the pool deck, and wanting to cool off, dove into the pool.
She swam under water, seeing how far she could go without taking a breath. She got about halfway before surfacing. She wiped her eyes as she deeply inhaled and exhaled until she was breathing normally again. She waded over to the edge and returned to her lounge.
“Just cooling off,” she said to her mother.
She lay back down and returned to her book. An hour later, her mother complaining of the heat, suggested they leave. Jane got up, gathered her things, and quietly followed her mother home. Feeling drained, she laid down, after changing, in the living room. Her mother came to sit with her and brought her some iced tea. She dozed as her mother watched a show about gardening. Her father found them like that when he returned from his golf outing.
“Great news, Janey,” he boomed from the doorway, startling her. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were asleep. Scoot over,” he said, patting her leg.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes “Hey dad. What’s up?”
“I ran into Mark Hamilton at the golf course,” he said happily.
He did this all the time. He would start a conversation in a way that made absolutely no sense to her. She did not know who Mark Hamilton was or how her dad knew him so she shrugged in response.
He then looked expectedly at Mrs. Martin. “Remember Mark Hamilton, dear?”
A Bridge of Her Own Page 9
