Poet

by A. M. Johnson

  She batted her lashes and I stifled a smile. Good luck with that, I wanted to say, but Liam just nodded his chin and gave me a knowing glare before he headed back to his table to clean.

  She paid with credit, and I was grateful. I’d already counted the till before I’d started reading. Once she was gone, I locked up and turned off the open light in the window and closed the blinds. The back door jingled again, and when I turned around, I had to suppress a groan. Kelly was making her way into the shop and she bypassed Liam’s station with purpose. I used to love my sister-in-law, but Mel was ruining that, too.

  Kelly was wearing jeans and one of the new Irene’s House t-shirts she’d had made last week. But the frown she was wearing did not bode well for me.

  “What?” I asked in a bored tone.

  She glared and shook her head. “Mel put in her two weeks.”

  I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as I asked, “She did?”

  Kelly took three steps toward my frozen frame and shoved me in the chest. “She did. Wake-up, O’Connell, or you’re going to lose her forever.”

  Forever.

  Why did that terrify me? Why did that one word shred every defense I’d built over the last fourteen days? Panic clutched my lungs, drowned me, I couldn’t catch my breath. My nostrils flared as I tried to breathe in the thin air.

  “She’s going back to The Western. She said she can’t deal.”

  The Western. What? She wouldn’t. Melissa hated that place. Everything she loved was at Irene’s. She thrived on helping those women, their kids, it was why I’d fallen so…

  The light inside my head, the light I’d hidden inside a catacomb of self-righteous indignation, flipped on. It burned so bright and sudden. I could see it all. See her beautiful, warm brown eyes, and her soft skin. Her smile as she’d sweat through the shelter’s laundry service, or when she’d made food at Irene’s for fifty-plus patrons. I could see her face and how it had come alive as she offered counsel to the younger moms… to the addicts. She was paying her dues, working her penance, and she’d loved every second of it. Melissa was rare, she’d found a way to overpower the monster inside herself, and she wanted to show others how they could, too.

  Shit.

  I have been so fucking blind.

  “She can’t go back there, Kieran, she can’t! And this is your fault…” Kelly’s voice always went a little high pitched when she was losing it.

  “Hey, now.” Liam’s voice was oddly calm. It was as if we’d swapped places in the last two weeks. He wrapped his arms around Kelly, pulling her back to his chest and placed a kiss to her cheek. “What that woman does—”

  Kelly struggled within his hold. “That woman?”

  He only chuckled, but I couldn’t find amusement in anything. Nothing about this situation was funny. Melissa was about to throw away her dreams to avoid me.

  “What Mel does is her business, Princess. Is Kieran an idiot? Fuck, yeah, but hey, we all make mistakes.” Liam kissed the long scar on her cheek before he let her go.

  “Kieran, just call her, I’m not asking you to forgive her, move mountains, or walk on water. I’m just asking you to make it right. She can’t leave… those women depend on her.”

  My throat had swollen around the guilt that had wedged inside, and when I spoke it was rough like gravel, “I’ll make it right.”

  Ink stained my fingers. I’d written more words since I’d left Melissa than I ever have in my life. The entire surface of my bed was covered in scattered pieces of paper. I’d tried several times tonight to write something worth sending her, but it was an impossible task. I was torn between loving the stranger or the woman I’d thought I’d known.

  I loved her. It was furious and bold. I’d allowed myself to just dive into her, and maybe that’s why her dishonesty had hurt so badly. I’d opened myself up, offered her a clean and easy target, and she’d cut me incredibly deep. But I couldn’t let her quit Irene’s. She was meant to be there, and as much as it pained me to think it, I wanted to be where she was, too… I belonged with her.

  There wasn’t an easy fix to her betrayal, but I couldn’t help that the minute I decided to reach out to her, the ache, the suffocating weight I’d been bearing for the past fourteen days, it was a little less awful to carry. My mother would’ve advised me to forgive her. Father Becker had advised me to let go and see the beauty of the choices I’d made and the time I’d given myself so fully to another, and I wanted that again. The peace of having another person own you, your heart and soul, there was nothing like it in the whole world.

  Maybe I was enough to quell her temptations… maybe I’d been her peace, too.

  I read the lines I’d just written, the paper in my hand shivered along with my fingers. The words still sounded too angry.

  No path, no light

  And this day

  Still a stark sunrise

  And I’ll watch you fade, and you’ll watch me run,

  Into the distance I create.

  Fucked up and cut thin,

  The view is all I knew,

  Of you, in morning pink, and the towel fell

  With my values down the drain.

  Broken hearts,

  Fucked up and worn out,

  The bells no longer pull me home

  And the night black pooled,

  And flooded the valley,

  In square shadowed pictures of you.

  By impulse everything was lost, and I can’t find my way,

  Home to you,

  Deep sleep and vivid dreams,

  Laid out with broken seams.

  Home to you,

  Jasmine scent and caramel skin,

  My fingers beg to begin.

  There was no way around it. We’d both messed up, and I was too naïve, too inexperienced to figure out a way to get us back to that peaceful place again.

  I balled the paper in my hand and closed my eyes. It was two in the morning and I’d lost my mind. Mel didn’t need a grand gesture, if anything, it would probably piss her off. I’d taken what she’d told me and practically flew out the door. I’d promised her I wouldn’t and I had.

  I opened my eyes and scanned all the sheets of white blotted with ink. I was sitting on my bed, phone resting in my lap, and instead of calling her, I’d chosen to hide behind words I’d never meant for her to see.

  Don’t be a coward.

  I picked up my phone, and let my fingers swipe across the screen.

  Me: You can’t quit.

  I pressed send but the three words felt insufficient.

  “Fuck.”

  Me: Don’t quit, Mel. You’re too good at what you do.

  I wanted to forgive her, tell her I was sorry for running, but I was still pissed, too… and afraid. I stared at my phone. I knew she was sleeping, and part of me hoped that she wouldn’t ever answer. That I could find a way to survive her and move on, and that she could find a way to stay at Irene’s without being miserable, but that wasn’t going to happen. Lust had beguiled me. It flirted and begged and teased me with stories about forever. I’d fallen victim to sentiment, but I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Everything, with her, I’d do it all over again. I’d even suffer through these last two weeks because she’d changed me, she opened up the pages and fed me ink with kisses and I’d wanted it. I’d let myself fall in love…

  Me: I miss you.

  Me: Just call me, okay, don’t quit.

  My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. I managed to open up the wadded up piece of paper, and smoothed it out onto the mattress in front of me. I could’ve stopped with my last text, but maybe she’d think I was texting her out of obligation, or my perpetual need to make people happy, so I let my fingers type out one more text.

  Me: By impulse everything was lost, and I can’t find my way… home to you.

  “I’m not sure about this…” Jordan’s brow furrowed and I smiled for the first time in weeks. His fork squished the grits on his plate and he stuck out his tongue. “Yuck, Mel. No w
ay.”

  My laughter bubbled past the walls of my chest. “Abuela will be heartbroken.”

  At my statement, Jordan closed his eyes and brought the grits to his lips. He chewed cautiously and then gulped as if eating sand.

  “Well?” I asked with my brows raised.

  He shook his head hard and I giggled. The sound of it lifted about twenty tons of cement from my shoulders. Life didn’t always have to be hard. Moments come and go, and I was trying to remember to hold on to the good ones. I shifted my gaze to the open dining room of the restaurant. Our lunch rush was meager for a Saturday, but it probably had something to do with the foot of snow on the ground. Utah had been hit hard this winter and it still hadn’t stopped. Unfortunately, we had at least another two months of the season left to endure. I scowled as I watched through the window as the flakes fell to the ground. My drive home was going to suck.

  Home.

  The word had me itching to pull out my phone and reread the last message Kieran had sent me. It was three days ago when I woke up to several texts messages from him. It was interesting that I hadn’t heard from him in two weeks until I’d told Kelly I was quitting Irene’s. I hadn’t expected it, but the timing hurt, nonetheless. Was he texting me so I wouldn’t quit, or because he really missed me… or both? I guess I could’ve replied and found out for myself his intentions, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t let myself go there with him. We weren’t right for each other, and I’d never be able to look at him again without remembering how his loving eyes had turned into pools of horror and repulsion the day he’d split. That one look had left me utterly vacant.

  “Aunt Mel, do I have to eat these?” Jordan’s whiny voice rescued me from my train of thought.

  I lifted his plate from the breakfast bar. “Nah.”

  His smile was quiet. “Thanks.”

  I felt his blue eyes following my movements as I scraped my mother’s attempt at “real southern grits like my grandma used to make” into the garbage. My back was facing him when he spoke next, but the slight shudder in his tone set my teeth on edge.

  “What was my father like?”

  My breath hitched, and I had to gather myself before I turned around. We’d all avoided the elephant in the room since the night JoJo had found out about his real biology.

  I wet my lips, and set his plate into the gray tub of dirty dishes before I finally turned around and was met with eager and appraising eyes.

  “He was handsome like you,” I said with a sad smile. Jordan’s lips stretched as I continued. “In fact, when I met him, I’d thought he was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen.”

  His smile waned. “But he was sick.”

  I nodded at his regurgitated line. “He really was.”

  His dark eyes held so many questions. He was too little to know everything, too young to be burdened with every truth, but his confusion and wonder would only grow. And, as his curious eyes found mine, the years ahead of me played out in short bursts behind my eyes. He would always have hard questions, and our relationship might not always be good, and the revelation had tears fighting for the surface.

  “Do you think… do you think he would have liked me? If… if he had gotten better like you?”

  My heart pounded as I answered, “JoJo, he would’ve loved you.”

  There was no need to break his heart, and who knew, if Chance had ever gotten sober, he might’ve been a great dad. We might’ve been so many things.

  “Jordan. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish things could’ve been different, that I would’ve chosen to get better sooner… but all you have to remember, kiddo, is that I always wanted you. Even when I was sick…” All my mistakes, the fear of losing Jordan one day, all of it swelled inside of my lungs, and I could barely breathe. “Y-You were always my number one, and that’s why Maria is your mom and not me, because I would’ve never let you get hurt.”

  “You wouldn’t have hurt me, Aunt Mel.” The trust in his eyes burst inside my chest.

  My eyes burned as I leaned over the counter and kissed his forehead. “I don’t know, JoJo, I was in a very bad, bad place, and I think even though letting you go hurt me, I did the right thing.”

  “And you still get to see me all the time.” He added with a smile. His innocence the tether binding us together.

  “I do, best part of my day, kid.”

  He beamed, but then widened his eyes. At first, I wasn’t sure why he looked so nervous all of a sudden, and then I heard her voice.

  “You ate them already? Were they good?” my mother asked as she stepped up to the counter.

  JoJo’s eyes darted to mine and I had to stifle a giggle. “He gobbled them right up.”

  Mom clapped her hands. “I knew you’d like them. I’ll make them for you next week, too.”

  Jordan’s expression fell just enough, I noticed, as he nodded his head. My mother, on the other hand, missed it completely. I couldn’t contain my smile. She was listing ingredients that she wanted to try next. Cheese Grits… spicy shrimp. JoJo’s smile tipped into a frown the longer the list got. I was about to speak up, save the poor kid, when my phone rang in my pocket. I quickly pulled it out and Jaime’s name flashed across the screen.

  “I have to take this,” I said to no one in particular as I headed toward the bathroom.

  I was halfway down the private hall when I answered, “Hey, Jaime.”

  “You can’t be serious,” he asked by way of greeting.

  “I can’t stay there.”

  “Because of that guy? Fuck him, Mel.”

  I expelled an irritated breath as I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. “Jaime, I need my job back, at least until I can—”

  “No, Mel, I can’t. I can’t hire you and then have you quit on me again.”

  “No?” I asked. Shock colored my tone.

  “No. You’re too good for this place, and I won’t let you take a step backward, not again. You’re a smart girl, stay the fuck away from this place. Never come back, you understand. Don’t let some asshole ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

  “Jaime, I need the money.”

  “Then stay at the shelter, get a job at another shelter, shit, work more hours at your parents’ place, but you’re not coming back here, I’m sorry, but I won’t allow it.”

  Furious tears bit at the corners of my eyes while anger warred with the feeling of gratefulness in my stomach. My muscles tightened as I attempted to hold in a sob. He’d never told me no, not ever. And yet, he’d made me feel like I might actually be able to get my shit handled; that maybe I didn’t need that place, need him after all.

  He sighed noisily. “Mel, I’m here, and if you really were in a bad way, you know I’d help you, but you have other options now, use them, all right?”

  I swallowed. “Okay.” My answer was desiccated and hoarse.

  “Don’t be a stranger.” I could hear the emotion in his voice and it almost broke the dam I’d started to rebuild the day Kieran stormed out.

  I hung up the phone without an official goodbye and held it against my chest. My life had been defined by pitfalls and disappointments and every single one of them was my own damn fault. It was time for me to leave it all behind. I was sober. I was healthy. Every secret I’d hidden had been unearthed. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were so tired, but they were keen, driven, and Jaime was right… I had other options. But I didn’t want them, not really.

  I let my eyes fall to my phone, and when I unlocked it I knew I was doing the right thing. It would be hard, and maybe I’d have to avoid my own feelings for a while, but I loved Irene’s, and I wasn’t going to let another one of my fuck-ups ruin my life.

  My fingers typed out a short text.

  Me: Can I still have my job?

  It didn’t take her long to reply.

  Kelly: Duh. Of course.

  Kelly: I’m happy dancing right now.

  Kelly: Don’t ever freak me out like that again or I’ll fir
e you.

  She wouldn’t

  Kelly: Just kidding. Yay! See you Monday.

  Me: See you then.

  It had taken me twice as long to get to Maria’s house. I was sitting on her couch drinking hot tea and watching some weird British television show about a guy and a blue telephone booth. My feet were sore from working a double shift, and my clothes were damp from the snow. My sister had gotten stuck and wasn’t able to pick up JoJo so I had to bring him home before I could head to my apartment.

  “Thanks for picking up the dinner shift. Was Jordan a pain?” she asked a bit out of breath. She plopped down onto the recliner just across from me.

  “He was fine. He got bored so Dad had him fill the to-go salsa cups, and I’m pretty sure he ate half of it.”

  She laughed. “He’s getting so big. I hope I can keep up with his appetite.” Maria’s gaze turned serious. “He’s been asking about you… about everything.”

  “I know, he asked me today what Chance was like.”

  Her eyes filled with a slight tension. “And?”

  “And I told him he was handsome. What was I supposed to say?”

  “You said the right thing.”

  It took all of my energy not to roll my eyes. “I can do the right thing, Maria… sometimes.”

  “I know that,” she argued.

  “Do you?”

  She sat up, shifting to the edge of the recliner. “I do. You think I don’t see you, Mel. You think Mom and Dad still worry, still think you’re going to mess up, but that’s on you. We all see how far you’ve come. We love you and we’re proud. We trust you, Mel… when will you start trusting yourself?”

  I really wanted to. “I’m trying.” And I was. After today, after talking with Jaime, I’d felt my confidence stretch its unused wings.

  She tapped her fingers on the arm of the overstuffed chair. “He wasn’t a setback, you know?”

  Confusion knitted my brows. “Who? JoJo? I know that.”

  She shook her head. “Kieran. I can see how you would think that, but he wasn’t. He was a step forward. You opened up, and it fell apart, but you didn’t. You’re still here, in one piece, and I know you’ll keep moving forward. I just wish you could know that for yourself.”