by Kat T. Masen
“Yes. I’ll book the flights.”
My mind is made up.
This time next week, I will be in California.
Twenty-Six
It’s funny how in life, we gravitate toward people who embody the phrase, ‘You only live once.’ Like when you’re watching some documentary on a reporter who travels the world to show you exotic places, or a well-known chef exploring different cuisines and opening up your mind to things you had only dreamed about. Curled up on the couch, I would always watch with such enjoyment, wishing I had the guts just to let loose and live life as if there were no tomorrow.
I thought I had lived a colorful life, having traveled to a few places outside the country, yet in reality, I’ve played it safe. I love to be adventurous but always with caution. Yeah, so I’m that annoying person who will ask the attendant on any rollercoaster the stats on the seat belts and when the ride was last checked for malfunctions. In the end, I always enjoy myself, wondering why I just don’t let loose and do these kinds of things more often.
Years ago, I created a bucket list. It grew and grew because there was always something preventing me from doing anything on that list. Looking back on it now, I’m partially to blame. I gave excuse after excuse, and before I knew it, time had passed by at lightning speed.
And that’s the thing about time. If we could stop it, just for a moment, we would have enough time to experience all the things our hearts desire. I always imagine how different life would be if we could catalog our memories and experiences, and with just one click of a button, be transported in time to that memory. Like the first time a boy leans in and kisses your lips, or the moment when your parents buy you tickets to your first concert and you’re in the crowd holding up a sign for Bon Jovi to marry you. If only he read that sign.
Then there’s that moment when the man you love gets down on one knee and promises you a lifetime of memories beginning with the shining diamond that sits in that little velvet box. And at that moment, you’re sitting on cloud nine about to embark on the most joyous journey with the man who wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
But out of all these moments, there is no greater moment than seeing the face of your child for the very first time. The first time they are placed in your arms, and the world officially stops as you are introduced to this tiny human being who grew inside you for nine months.
These memories, all of them, are moments to be cherished.
Then there are moments that you wish you could fast-forward, place in a vault, and throw into the deepest end of the ocean.
This is me, now.
The way Haden ended things between us left me deeply depressed and made me question everything I thought I knew about myself. In my life, I have never before experienced all the emotions I’ve had in the past forty-eight hours. At first, I was livid. How dare he think or say the things he said. If he listened, just for a second, he would have heard what I was trying to say and possibly understand my fears and trepidation. But the Jerk threw himself into another one of his immature tantrums, leaving me no choice but to let whatever it was between us go.
I love Masen, more than life itself, and Haden marrying Eloise has already turned me into this bitter, toxic, ugly person who I never wanted to be.
I don’t want that person around my son.
And why? Because I love him, and it hurts like hell.
Knowing that someone you love doesn’t love you back is one of the most painful things in life. It tears you into pieces, and you believe there is no way to recover. Your mind tells you that you must be damaged goods because if that one person you loved couldn’t love you back, then no one else could possibly love you either.
The next journey on this painful ride is denial. After figuring out he is indeed the biggest jerk to walk this planet, I refuse to acknowledge he exists. Yeah, it’s the good old sweep-it-under-the-rug scenario, which is what I should have done in the first place rather than fall in love with someone like him.
Another thing. Don’t let your broken heart even think about the man you love, who doesn’t love you back, in any sexual way or form. That’s just a recipe for torture.
Kate, as always, proves to be a great distraction during what I call the I-wish-the-Jerk-never- existed phase.
“You don’t have to go,” she reminds me for the millionth time today.
I continue to pack my box of shoes, all the while wondering how I accumulated so much. Geez, I don’t want to throw the term ‘shoe whore’ around, but it’s difficult not to. Especially when I realize I have the same pair of pumps in three different colors. When did I really think I would wear the crimson pair?
“Los Angeles is great, don’t get me wrong, but aren’t you going to miss the city?”
Closing the box, I pull the tape across the top and stick on a label marked, ‘Shoes—FRAGILE.’
There, done.
“I’m done here. I miss my sister. The open spaces and sun will be a welcoming change. California has some great schools where Masen can attend,” I state, matter of factly.
“I can’t argue that. I’m from England, and anywhere there’s sun, I’m there faster than you can say the word sunburn.”
I shake my head, giggling at her comment. Kate is awfully pale, and I can only imagine what the California sun could do to her delicate skin. Nevertheless, she is gorgeous the way she is.
“You’re beautiful,” I add, smiling at her.
She places the tape aside and jumps up, almost knocking me down as we hug it out. For someone who has only been in my life for such a short time, she’s had a big impact. She is that person you can always rely on, no matter what. She is a selfless human being who genuinely cares for the people who surround her. I consider myself lucky to have met her and hope the distance won’t affect our friendship. But then again, why should it? A true friend doesn’t need to see or talk to you every day. You know they’ll be there whenever you need them. Kate is and will forever be a person I consider a good friend.
“I’m going to miss you. I’ve loved having you as a roomie. And lil’ Mase…” she trails off, letting go of me and picking him up from his crib. She’s visibly upset, having grown so fond of him during our short stay together. Kate isn’t one to cry, but her eyes begin to well, and I swear I hear a slight sniffle.
“It’s only a plane ride away. And you said you visit L.A. often,” I remind her softy.
“I know… just gotta get used to not seeing this little chubber every day.”
Smiling back at Kate, I watch as she gently sways Masen. It’s sad to go, but it’s all in Masen’s best interest. I constantly have to drum that into my stubborn head.
It doesn’t matter what I want.
But that all soon falls apart.
The next night, I wake up sweating profusely, my lungs feeling like they have been punctured, not allowing me to breathe. Panicky and dripping in cold sweat, I clutch my chest, certain I’m having a heart attack.
I’m thirty-two. The likelihood of that happening is slim. The panic subsides, and the reality of being alone in this big bed hits me like a ton of bricks.
I’m suffering from what they call a broken heart.
I have all the symptoms. The aching heart, the lack of appetite, and no song can play in the background without causing me a complete meltdown.
On day four, it officially hits. Physically my heart is aching, and the stream of tears flows evenly, escalating in loud sobs. Not wanting to wake up Masen or Kate, I grab the pillow and shove it onto my face. The pain is unbearable. Several times I have contemplated calling and telling him to come over. I miss him so much, and the thought of being on the other side of the country has left me torn in my decision.
I miss his smell. That masculine scent that drives my senses wild.
I miss the way his eyebrows do that thing every time his face breaks into a smile.
But most of all, I miss the way he watches over Masen with unconditional love. The adoration in that one
stare makes me realize that no other man could love Masen as much as he does.
I am out of my mind, clearly not thinking straight.
Then I do that awful stalker thing. I check his Facebook and Twitter accounts, but he hasn’t posted a thing. Immediately afterward, I regret looking at pictures of him. How can one human being be so beautiful, yet tear every inch of your soul to pieces at the same time?
In the light of day with the sun peeking through my curtains, the world seems entirely different. My eyes are puffy and sore from my cry-fest. Last night feels like a big blur now, yet the pain still lingers. It only reminds me that there are many sleepless nights to come.
After all, this is only the beginning.
Liz is coming over later to take Masen out for a couple of hours, so I can run some last-minute errands. Since Masen is still fast asleep, I shower quickly and dress in my jeans with a knitted gray sweater. Makeup is mandatory as I have to cover up the bags under my eyes. My hair never cooperates, so I settle for running some product through it and leaving it down. All dressed and ready for the day, I change Masen and feed him, then finish packing his bag.
On cue, the doorbell rings, and a happy Liz is waiting impatiently for her grandson.
“There he is!” She pulls him from my arms as I motion for her to come inside.
Liz is a very attractive woman. I’d peg her for being in her early fifties with her youthful skin yet classic style. She is wearing a long, natural-colored overcoat and black leather gloves.
“Okay, so the stroller’s over there, and his bag has enough milk for the day, spare clothes, and a ton of diapers.”
“Thanks, honey.” She smiles. “We’re going to have fun today. Daddy is going to take you to the zoo.”
“Daddy?” I almost choke at her words.
She stops smiling and moves her attention back to me, looking slightly nervous. “Yes. Haden took the week off work because of the hectic wedding schedule.”
I have two options—I can be the devil and take Masen away from him, or I can ignore the way my heart just fell to the floor when Liz mentioned the wedding and act okay with it.
“I better get going,” I mumble, kissing Masen on the top of his head.
“Presley.” She stops me, clutching my arm.
I reluctantly turn to face her, struggling to keep my emotions steady.
“Let fate run its course. In the end, it will all work out.”
Fate? Fate hasn’t stopped screwing with me since the moment I told Jason we needed to end things. I can’t rely on fate. I can’t rely on anything. Call me a pessimist, a cynic, whatever the hell you want. If I want something to happen, I need to do something about it. Right now, I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to think about the Jerk and his stupid wedding.
As soon as Liz is gone, I muster up every part of me not to shed one more tear. He has made his decision, and I have made mine. Grabbing my purse, I head out, forcing myself to enjoy my child-free day.
“I’ll have the grilled salmon, baked potatoes with ranch dressing, and a salad on the side. You know what, throw in some nachos while you’re at it.”
I stare at my friend, amused. “Throw in some nachos while you’re at it? Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant, Vicky.”
She rolls her eyes at me while shoving a breadstick into her mouth. “No. You’d be proud of me. I haven’t touched Patrick whatsoever.”
“Wow. I am proud of you.”
“I’m happy to accept his lavish gifts while he pines so desperately for my kitty.”
“New wallet?”
“Yep.” Her mouth widens into a smile. “Chanel. Isn’t it a beauty?”
“Yes. But you realize he wants sex, and you need sex?”
“Don’t worry about me. I bought this super-duper vibrator with all the bells and whistles. I’ve gone through a whole pack of batteries… in a week!”
Vicky spends the next ten minutes reciting the stats of the vibrator. She wasn’t kidding when she said it had all the bells and whistles. It has five-star reviews, and we have a good laugh reading what other women had to say about it.
“At the rate I’m going, I may need to buy one, too.”
I take a sip of water as the waiter places the nachos in front of us. My weakness, and today, I ignore my attempt to get back in shape. I eat like it’s my last meal on earth. The gym can wait. Again.
“I saw the Jerk yesterday. He came into the office in the morning to grab his laptop.”
“That’s nice,” I say without any emotion.
“Well, what I saw wasn’t nice. He looked like a wreck, Pres. I mean, a scruffy-looking hairy man who probably hasn’t seen a mirror or a razor in a while. He rivaled Bigfoot.”
“Maybe that’s the look he wants at his wedding.”
She sighs. “You’re not helping me here.”
“Helping you do what?”
“He looks like shit because he misses you, Presley. And he knows he’s a jerk and said jerk-like things to you. I don’t know why he is marrying her if he loves you. It doesn’t make sense.”
“He doesn’t love me. End of story. Now can we please talk about something else?”
I bite down on a tortilla chip, avoiding Vicky’s penetrating gaze. She knows me well enough to know this is a sore subject. She can tell, not only because I’m avoiding making eye contact, but also because I do that nervous twirl of my hair around my finger thing and constantly tap my foot against the floor.
I swiftly change subjects. “So, I’ve lined up a part-time job at Lantern Publishing in L.A. I’ll be working four days a week. Three days in the office and one day from home. Luckily, Gemma works from home as a graphic designer, so she jumped at the chance to take care of Masen till he’s old enough to go to daycare.”
“Sounds like you have it all planned out. Just like the old Presley,” Vicky counters with her eyebrows raised.
Taken aback by her tone and comment, I place my fork down and wipe my mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that nothing’s changed. Yes, you’ve had a baby, but you’ve turned back into Miss Plan-My-Whole-Life-Out Presley. It was fun being around you when you stopped giving a shit and just lived for the moment. The Jerk changed you in ways you haven’t bothered to notice.”
“Well, not giving a shit and living for the moment ends up with a broken heart. I’m sick of this. I just want to go live my life without all the drama.”
“What about me?” she pouts jokingly.
“What about you?”
“Will you miss my drama?”
I laugh and lean over to squeeze her perfectly manicured hand. “That’s the only thing I’ll miss. You and Kate with your constant man drama. I’m going to have to take up watching soap operas to get my fill.”
“I love you, Pres. Thank you for being my best friend. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you just around the corner.”
“Ditto.” I smile back. “Now stop moping because you’re flying to visit me next weekend.”
“I’m excited! I’ve never been to L.A., and there’s so much I want to do.” She pulls out a piece of paper from her bag and places it in front of me. “So, here is a list I made of things I want to do, time permitting.”
I hold my palm in front of her face. “Stop the press. Vicky made a list?”
“Are you proud of me? Mama Presley taught me well.”
“So, you can teach an old dog new tricks.” I laugh.
We fall into a fit of laughter until the cute waiter returns with our lunch. Despite Vicky’s attempt to be organized, I’m not the least bit surprised when she follows the cute waiter back to the bar and asks him for his number.
I arrive back at the apartment and see that Liz hasn’t returned just yet. It is almost dark, and I’m starting to worry about them. Not wanting to call Haden, I find Liz’s number in my phone and dial it immediately. It rings for a while before going to voicemail, only adding to my concern. I scroll through the cont
acts and land on Haden’s number. Just as I am about to hit the call button, a tap on the door startles me, and I scramble to open it, glad to see Liz and Masen on the other side. I unbuckle Masen from his stroller and lift him into my arms. Bringing him up to my face, I smell his hair, and my nerves are non-existent with my baby finally back in my arms.
“I’m sorry we’re late, sweetie. Haden just wanted some extra time with him.”
“He could have told me.”
“I know. He has a lot on his mind right now,” she defends him. “So, listen, he asked me to give this to you.”
She hands me a piece of paper, and I open it up to find a calendar for the next three months. My eyes divert to the boxes marked in red. In print, it says, “Eloise and Haden.”
“What’s this?” I ask, confused.
“Haden thought it was best to put together a schedule of when they could see Masen.”
“But… but… this is every other weekend… and it says New York?”
She puts the baby bag down and gracefully places her hand on mine. “Sweetie. It was bound to happen. If you’re moving to L.A. and Haden stays here, both of you will need to make an effort for Masen’s sake.”
“I can’t fly out to New York every other weekend,” I respond anxiously.
“Maybe Masen stays here for a week, or Haden flies out. He didn’t get into the details with me.”
Masen apart from me for a week?
What the hell is running through his head? I’m angry, furious to be precise, and that whole thing about not letting my emotions get to me, well, fuck it! I tear the paper up in front of Liz, much to her shock.
“This is what I think of his stupid plan.”
Liz knows well enough to leave at this point. Kissing Masen for the last time, she waves goodbye but not before telling me she’ll visit in a couple of weeks.
After my normal nightly routine, I put Masen to bed and head back to the living room to distract myself with mindless television. It doesn’t work. I’ve channel-surfed for the past hour without settling on anything to watch. Kate arrives home, and the second she does, I burst into tears. Not once does she tell me I’m wrong or making a mistake. She allows me to cry and let out my unresolved issues. Feeling bad that I soaked her shirt, I pull away, apologizing for being a wreck.
