by Renee Fowler
“How did you know to do that?” I ask from the doorway.
“How do you think?” Anna asks with a small laugh, pulling on one of her springy curls for emphasis.
I laugh a little too. I guess it was a dumb question, but I learned that trick myself through a bit of trial and error.
“I like your room.” Anna stares around at all the pink, princess crap. “That must be your mommy. You look just like her,” she says, nodding to the framed photograph tilted towards the bed.
It’s angled that way so I don’t have to see it, but watching Anna’s face as she stares at it wrenches at my gut the same way viewing it myself does.
“My mommy is an angel,” Sarah says conversationally.
“Mine is too.”
I am so damn close to crying, it’s pathetic. I have to excuse myself to the bathroom where I splash my face with cold water.
If one of us had to die, it should have been me. Claire was strong. She could’ve actually dealt with this shit. There’s no way in hell she would be standing in a bathroom, trying not to cry six years after the fact.
By the time I finally pull myself together, Sarah’s room is picked up. She’s snuggled under the covers, and Anna is kneeling beside her twin bed, reading to her in a low, soft voice.
When she finishes, and goes to replace the book on the shelf, I give Sarah a goodnight kiss. I see Claire’s smiling face in that picture at the corner of my eye, and it snags my attention like a magnet. Messy blonde curls framing her heart shaped face. Those light blue eyes and wide smile. That beauty mark was on the right side. How did I forget about that? After all those years together, how did I let myself forget such a tiny detail that suddenly feels monumental.
The guilt I’ve been waiting to feel for weeks now slams into me with ferocious strength. Claire should be the one reading Sarah a story, tucking her in with me, kissing her goodnight. The fact that Anna laid beside me in the guest room instead of our room doesn’t make it better.
It doesn’t make it right.
Chapter 20
Anna
Jack has been acting so weird since dinner, and the strangeness only intensifies after Sarah goes to sleep.
“Are you about ready to turn in?” he asks.
It’s a little early, but it’s been a long day and a half. All that broken sleep didn’t do much to make me feel rested, and I give him a little nod. Jack waits for me to get into bed. He sets a bottle of water on the bedside table, and tucks me in briskly.
“Jack, is something wrong?”
“No, but there’s a few things I need to take care of downstairs. I’ll be up in a bit to check on you.” He gives me a chaste peck on the cheek, and strides out of the room, closing the door behind him.
I stare at the spot he just disappeared from, utterly perplexed. Maybe he really does have some things to do. He dropped everything to take care of me last night, and he’s done nothing but stick by my side for the past day.
But something feels off, and that fatigue I felt minutes ago drains away to a wide awake worry. I stare at the ceiling, then all around the room, which is plain in every way. Eggshell white walls, beige carpet, mocha drapes. There are no pictures, or decorations. I lay there for close to an hour, unable to sleep before I finally climb back out of bed.
As soon as I pull the bedroom door open, I hear a distant and muffled thunk, thunk, thunk. The sound leads me downstairs, and to the door that opens to the lowest level of the home.
Jack is on the treadmill. His shirt dangles over the handrail. His back muscles flex and ripple as his arms pump, and his legs propel him forward in a perpetual loop. I can’t help but be impressed by his speed, but I’m more worried by the pained expression stamped on his face.
He catches sight of me, does a slight double take, and stops the machine. Jack wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “What are you doing down here, Anna?”
“I wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
Jack climbs down from the treadmill, and flings the shirt over his shoulder. “It’s late. You should be asleep.”
“Well, I’m not. Jack, talk to me. What happened? Everything seemed perfect, and then it’s like a switch flipped, and… Did I do something?”
“Having you here is…” His throat works as he swallows. He widens his eyes, trying to keep his composure, then the features of his face grow hard as stone over the course of a few seconds. “Let me ask you something, Anna. Were you looking for a ready made family to step into since you can’t have kids of your own? Is that what this is? I hate to break it to you, but you’re never going to be Sarah’s mother. You know that right?”
My mouth gapes and I pant shallow breaths as I suffer the sting of his words and his tone. “I never thought… Jack, you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset. I’m only laying it out there for you. I just like to be clear.”
“I know I would never be her mother, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about her.”
“We shouldn’t be giving her the wrong idea.”
“W-What idea is that?”
“That this is going somewhere. That you’re going to be around… Anna, this was a mistake.”
“You brought me here! You’re the one that told her… I’m sorry if I said something, or did-”
“Stop apologizing,” he says angrily. “Why are you the one saying sorry to me?”
“I don’t know.”
“And why the hell were you walking alone at night in the first place?”
My thoughts are reeling, trying to follow this conversation, and decipher his facial expressions that keep shifting between anguish and anger. “I told you I lost track of time.”
“I warned you it wasn’t safe.”
“So, it’s my fault someone attacked me?”
“No, but there’s no reason to put yourself in harm’s way like that. It’s reckless. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”
“Jack, what is this really about?”
His mouth forms a hard line as he stares at a spot just over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Anna. I don’t think this is going to work out. I’m just not ready to move on, and it’s probably best if we go our separate ways before someone gets hurt.”
Too late for that.
I’ve endured physical pain, but nothing quite so vicious as the burning stab through the center of my chest. “Why did you come to the hospital in the first place?”
“I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Then why did…” My words trail off into a bitter sob. Then why did we have sex? Why did you let me believe I wasn’t a freak? Why make me think it was actually possible that you might really love me one day? But I already know the answer to those questions, and I’m as much to blame as anyone. I put him in a bad spot. I should’ve told Jack the truth well before now, and he’s too good of a man to come right out with it. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t.”
“And I’m not your obligation.”
“I don’t mind helping-”
“I don’t need your help, Jack. I never have.” I stomp back up the steps. At the top I resist the urge to slam the basement door closed. The last thing I want to do is wake up Sarah.
I use Jack’s phone to call Laura, and ask for a ride. Thank god she’s still up.
Wiping at my face, I tread more lightly up to the second floor. I cram my clothes and things back into my bag with no regard for order, just wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
What is Sarah going to think when I’m not there in the morning? I guess Jack will come up with something. According to him, I’m not supposed to care one way or the other.
I slip on my shoes, and sling the bag over my shoulder. A tiny wave of vertigo hits me, but it passes in seconds, and I make my way back downstairs, gripping the handrail tightly.
“Come here, baby,” I whisper to Princess, lifting her
up into my arms from her sleepy perch curled up with the smaller kitten. “Say goodbye to your new friend.”
I’ve just finished tugging on my coat when the door leading downstairs swings open. Jack’s hair is slicked back away from his face. He has his shirt on now, but it was dark in a few spots from sweat. The hard lines of his face soften as they fall on me. “Anna, you don’t have to leave tonight.”
“I think it’s for the best.” Peering through the blinds of the front window, I silently prayed that Laura would get here soon.
“You can’t be by yourself.”
“I’m going to stay with Laura,” I lie. “but thanks for… everything.” It’s impossible to be angry with him staring at me like that, with such obvious concern and compassion. I know he means well, but it makes me feel utterly pathetic.
Yellowed headlights cut through the dark at the end of his driveway, and I take one last look at the man I foolishly let myself fall for. But it’s not one last look really. I’ll get to suffer this heartbreak and humiliation every monday afternoon at four.
“Are you really feeling better?” Laura asks as soon as I get in the car.
“Much.”
“I thought you were staying the night?”
“Sarah has school in the morning, and… you know.” I’ll tell her tomorrow. I’m too raw. The wound is too fresh. I don’t feel like crying over it in front of her, and if I open my mouth to speak the truth, I’m going to blubber. “I still may need you to take my classes tomorrow.”
“Sure. I was planning on it,” she says, backing out of the driveway.
As soon as I’m alone in the confines of my apartment, I cry like an infant, and hate myself for it. I have no right to feel this terrible over the loss of someone I’ve known for six weeks. It’s ridiculous. What’s worse is those tears are as much for him as me. I know he’s hurting. Seeing Claire’s picture tonight really drove it home for me. It made his loss more real I guess.
I cry myself to sleep, and wake up feeling just as miserable. I’m allowing myself one day to recuperate from my injuries, and mourn the loss of this relationship, then it’s back to business as usual.
I did fine before Jack came into my life, and I’ll do fine again after.
I lay curled up with Princess on the couch, crying intermittently, dozing a few times. I eat peanut butter on saltines, a lot of them, the closest thing to junk food I have in the kitchen, and flick through the channels without settling on anything for what feels like hours.
I make a list of all the things I need to do tomorrow, go to the bank, buy a new phone, schedule that follow up doctor's appointment, and look into taking my driving test too. I’m positive I can pass, and I already have money set aside for a modestly priced used car. It’s time to get over my stupid fears. I’m not going to accidentally hit someone one. That freak twist of fate happened well over a year ago, and it’s silly to let it control my actions now.
A little after six there’s a knock which I assume is Laura, but I assumed wrong. I swing the door open to find Jack standing stiffly. Sarah wiggles at his side, and breaks away from his grasp to jet inside at the sight of Princess.
“I-I just came by to see how you’re doing.”
I swing the door open wider to let him in. It sort of feels like I have to with Sarah already inside. And of course I’m wearing a grungy top with paint stains, and some baggy pajama pants that have seen better days. I make a mental note to add laundry to that to do list as I close the door behind him, and chide myself silently for caring what he thinks.
“I’m feeling a lot better,” I say, and it’s the truth. After a full nights sleep, and a day spent with my feet up, I’m almost good as new. “You really didn’t have to stop and check on me, but thank you.”
“I just figured with Laura teaching, that means you’re alone.”
My eyes fly over to the clock, then back to him. “I’ve only got three hours left of that observation period, so unless you’re here to arrest me for not following doctor’s orders…” I tack on a small laugh to soften my snarky comment.
Jack palms the back of his neck, and throws a contrite expression to the ground between us. “I’m sorry, Anna.”
Is he sorry for hurting me? Sorry for dumping me last night? Is he sorry for inconveniencing me by this impromptu check in? He doesn’t elaborate, and I assume it’s option number three, but it’s hard to say with Sarah sitting nearby. She’s petting Princess, but watching us both intently.
“How was class tonight, Sarah?”
“I missed you.”
Something corkscrews in my chest, and my throat feels tight. “I missed you too, but I’ll see you next monday, okay?”
“Are you coming to dinner tonight?”
“I think Anna’s staying here tonight,” Jack says.
“Are you still my Daddy’s girlfriend?”
“Well, I’m a girl, and I’m his friend, so…” I plaster on the best smile I can manage. “Thank you for coming to check on me. I really appreciate it, Sarah.”
“Come on, Princess. We better go.”
The cat leaps off her lap, and Sarah giggles. “You’re going to have to stop calling me Princess. It’s too confusing.”
“What should I call you instead?” Jack asks with a tiny, amused smile.
“You could call me Queen,” she suggests, totally deadpan.
Jack and I both laugh. He catches my eye, and the laughter dies out in a breath. God, this hurts. I’m so confused, and that gash he speared through the center of my chest last night rips open fresh again.
“Princesses grow up to be queens, right?” Sarah asks.
“You’re not wrong.” Jack holds his arm out for his daughter.
She starts in his direction, and veers off to fling her arms around my legs. “Bye, Anna.”
My fingers brush through her silky hair as I try not to cry. “Bye, Sarah.”
I can’t look at them as they leave, so I pick up Princess and look at her instead.
Chapter 21
Jack
God, I’ve screwed this up, and I don’t know if I can fix it. Worse, I don’t know if I should even try. Anna deserves better than this. She needs more than I can give her. The second she opened the door, I could tell she’d been crying. She looked to be on the verge of tears again as we left, and every one of those tears is my doing.
I knew it was foolish to get involved with her to begin with.
Now I’ve hurt Anna, and Sarah, she just doesn’t know it yet. Jamie’s going to be full of all kinds of questions when I get home. I can deal with her later. Right now I’m about at the limit of what I can take, so I suggest to Sarah we go out to eat, her choice.
No big surprise, she chooses McDonalds, the one closer to the edge of town with the indoor playland. You’d think after a full day of school, running around the back yard, and then ballet class she’d be a little less hyper, but Sarah is still bursting with energy. I have to remind her more than once not to climb up the outside netting that surrounds the colorful tubing and slides.
She didn’t only take after her mother in the looks department. Claire loved rock climbing. It was something we did together, but she was truly passionate about it, and fearless. She talked me into climbs that terrified me despite all the harnesses and safety equipment.
Sarah is just as fearless, although I’ve tried my best to keep her safe, to turn her away from danger at every turn. Jamie is the one who eventually took the training wheels off her bike, and hassled me about making her wear elbow and knee guards, in addition to a helmet. When I caught Sarah climbing that big oak tree out behind the house last year, the first thing I did, after yelling at her to come down, was take a hack saw to all the low hanging branches so she couldn’t hoist herself up again.
Sometimes I wonder why she is so taken in by all this princess crap, but it’s no real mystery. I’ve pampered her like a princess. I call her princess. I’ve done everything in my power to keep her safe, because if something happened
to her too… I can’t even let my mind go there.
Claire really would hate the way I’m raising our daughter. She would definitely call me a pussy for running from my grief for this long, because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. And I bet she would call me an ass for talking to Anna the way I did last night, because I was definitely an ass. Claire might’ve been tough, but she was never cruel, and the way I turned on Anna yesterday was nothing short of heartless.
Maybe this would be easier if we’d ever had that conversation. You know, the one that goes - If I die before you, I want you to… We were never the couple that had long, gushy conversations in the first place, and we were still young. We were no different than most twenty five year olds I guess, and it’s not something anyone likes to sit around thinking about, the worst case scenario.
“Come on, monkey,” I say, hopping up from my seat to go snatch Sarah down from the netting. “I already warned you about that.” Maybe I do need to stop being so overprotective, but there are signs posted clearly stating not to climb on the outside of the structure.
“I’m not a monkey,” Sarah states, scrunching up her nose.
“You sure climb like one.” I pretend to sniff around her neck where she’s the most ticklish, until she’s breathless from laughing. “You kind of smell like one too.”
Sarah denies the accusation with another giggle, and I have her help me dispose of our trash. Once she is strapped into her seat, and we’re on our way home, I say, “I saw a commercial on TV for a place not too far away that has indoor rock climbing. Does that sound fun?”
“Yes! Can we go there now?”
I laugh. “Not tonight. It’s kind of late, but we could go sometime soon,” I promise, pausing to suck in a deep breath. “You know, your mommy loved rock climbing.”
“She did?”
“We used to go all the time. I’ll have to dig up some pictures to show you. She was really good at it.”
Sarah grilled me the rest of the way home in an astonished voice. Up until now she’s been content to fill in the gaps of her mother’s existence with her imagination, and the few concrete details she could pester out of me and other family members. Maybe Claire was pretty enough to be a princess, but she sure as hell never acted like one.
