by Liz Isaacson
As he stood there, he realized that Jazzy would never be comfortable in this house his ex-wife had built. How he’d lived here for five years with the constant reminders was a sudden mystery to him.
“You haven’t been living.” His voice whispered through the house, lifted toward the ceiling, full of truth and power. He hadn’t realized it, but he honestly hadn’t been truly living. He got up. He ate breakfast. He went to work. He saved people. Came home and fed the bird. Mowed Matilda’s lawn on weekends.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
He didn’t want to simply repeat the same day anymore, especially this one without Jazzy in it.
Desperate and afraid, he dialed her again. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d texted and then called to say he couldn’t come to her family dinner. She didn’t answer, and Max slumped into the dining room chair closest to him.
Birdy yelped at him for more bird seed, or more water, or just because he felt like making a fuss.
Max ignored him and instead decided to cancel dinner with his family on Saturday night. He wasn’t feeling confident anymore that he and Jazzy would be in a place to go together. With that done, he faced the house again.
He didn’t even know where to start the purging. At least he could see that it now needed to be done. Glancing at Birdy, who clung to his cage with his clawed feet, Max said, “Starting with you.”
He reached for his phone and called Cathy. “Look,” he said in his nicest big-brother voice. “I have to get rid of Birdy. What would you like me to do with him?”
Chapter Thirteen
Ed eyed the pile of boxes and furniture on Max’s front porch as he eased his truck to a stop. So his friend had already started the purge. Ed supposed that was easier than trying to convince the man that he’d held onto everything from his past and that he now needed to let it go.
Max exited his house, a rolled-up rug over his shoulder. He took it past the other items and on over to his own truck. The rug was probably the last thing the truck could hold, and he dusted his hands off and waved to Ed.
Ed got out of his vehicle and looked from Max to the truck. “What’s left inside?”
“Not much,” the other man admitted. He came closer to Ed. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Tell you what sooner?”
“That I was stuck in the past.”
Ed shrugged. “You didn’t seem to mind so much. Not my business. I don’t know.” He pulled on a pair of gloves. “So point me in the right direction. Boxes in my truck? Where are they going?”
Max gave him directions for the stuff on the porch—all of it was going to the Salvation Army in Vernal. Ed loaded up everything and then stepped inside the house. It hadn’t undergone a massive transformation, but just having all the decorations cleared out made it feel sterile, nondescript.
A drop cloth covered the kitchen table, and half a dozen cans of paint sat on top of it. “You’re painting?” he asked when Max joined him inside.
“Just the walls and the mantle,” he said.
“Where’s Birdy?” Ed didn’t see him in the corner, nor could he hear the normally rowdy animal.
“I listed him on the Brush Creek Classifieds last night, and we sold him to the Coopers.”
“Jennifer Cooper?” Ed’s eyebrows went up. “You realize she has three other birds already.”
“So what’s one more?”
“Cathy agreed to this?”
“Talked to her last night.”
Ed saw the new formations for the couches, that the TV had been moved to the opposite of the room. “So I take it Jazzy hasn’t called.”
Max’s mouth tightened and his bright blue eyes flamed with dangerous fire. “No.”
“Did you call her again?”
“Yes.”
“I told you not to.”
“I couldn’t help it,” he said. “I wanted her to know I’d gotten rid of Birdy.” When his best friend looked at him again, Ed found the desperation in his expression. “How do I get her back if she won’t talk to me?”
“Time,” Ed said. “She needs time.”
“Time for what?”
“I don’t know. I just know I needed some…time to wrap my head about things.”
Max nodded, but he didn’t look happy about the prospect of just waiting things out. Sometimes, though, time really was needed to get thoughts aligned and to set hurt feelings aside.
“So you and Fabi seem all right now.”
“Yeah,” Ed said. “I think we are.”
“Serious?”
“Serious enough. I haven’t met her family yet. But I don’t think we’ll break up anytime soon.”
“You sit by her family at church, I’ve heard.”
“Just Jazzy.”
“Surely her parents have seen you.”
“A quick glance is different than a formal meeting. Talking. Answering questions.” Ed shrugged. “You’d know more about it than I would.”
“Yeah?” Max nodded toward a stack on the counter. “That’s trash. You haven’t met a woman’s family?”
“I haven’t dated anyone seriously enough for that in years. Since moving here.” Ed picked up a stack of newspapers. “Colorado State University?” He quirked an eyebrow at Max. “What are these?”
“Cathy sends them to me every week. She works at the printer there.”
“And you kept them?” Ed knew Max loved his family. He just wasn’t sure he’d keep his sister’s college newspapers. It wasn’t like she’d written any of the articles in them. Of course, Ed had moved across the state to take care of his sister, so who was he to talk?
“I’m throwing them away now,” he said. “Purging.”
Ed saw a pile of sheets and blankets in the hallway. “What’s all this?”
“More stuff that needs to go in your truck.”
Ed grabbed the corner of a comforter. “You’re getting rid of your bedding? What are you going to use?”
“I’m going to go to the store and pick something out myself.” He cast the comforter a look that held a lot of memories behind it and turned away. He cleared his throat and put together another box. “I don’t think there’s a single thing in this house I picked out. Might be easier to sell the place and move.”
“Nah.” Ed folded the blanket and reached for a sheet. “This is what you need to do. Go through the past and discard what you don’t need anymore.” He met his friend’s eyes. “Trust me on this, Max. You’ll come out the other side happier if you do the work to get there.”
“How would you know?” Max challenged. “You’ve never been married. Gone through anything like what I’ve been through.”
A pinch started in Ed’s chest. “You’re right,” he said. “But I’ve seen my sister and her husband do the work, and when I see them, I see strong people who know who they are and what they want.”
“I know who I am and what I want,” Max said in a quiet voice.
“Jazzy?”
Max nodded once and looked away.
“All right then.” Ed finished with the linens. “Let’s get this place cleaned out and spruced up, and then we’ll figure out how to get her back.”
“I am so mad at you!” Fabi put her hands on her hips and glared at Jazzy as she came into the apartment. Her sister stood in the kitchen, wearing a floral apron over a pair of jeans and a blue short-sleeved sweater that Jazzy had bought her for their birthday last year.
“Where have you been, huh?” Fabi’s eyes flashed as she came around the counter. “I’ve been worried to death. I can’t eat. I can’t work. Maggie Wainwright has taken our clients for the past two days. No one has seen you or talked to you—what did you do to your hair?”
Jazzy closed the door behind her and entered the living room, carefully placing her purse on the coffee table before she collapsed onto the couch. It felt good to be home, even with Fabi ranting at her. The place smelled like disinfectant, as Fabi was a stress cleaner. Their apartment was probably the
freshest it had been since they moved in years ago.
“I stayed in Beaverton,” Jazzy said.
“Doing what?”
Jazzy wished her sister’s voice wasn’t quite so shrill. “Doing nothing.” And it had been wonderful. No computer. No stress. No work. Only her own thoughts and her own desires.
“Why didn’t you call me? Or answer any of my texts and calls? I’ve been worried sick!”
“I needed a vacation.”
“Fine.” Fabi sat at the end of the couch, her knees turned toward Jazzy. “Then we look at our calendars, and we talk to Wren, and we book tickets. We don’t just disappear from the family dinner and ignore our family for three solid days.”
Jazzy nodded, the tears she’d kept dormant for seventy-two hours finally pricking the back of her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.” Her voice broke, and Fabi was there, gathering her close and stroking her hair.
“He’s been by twice,” Fabi said. “You should see his face. He’s broken.”
Part of Jazzy was glad about that. “He made a choice.”
“I like your hair this color.” Fabi fingered the ends of Jazzy’s hair.
“Did you talk to Starlee?”
“You know, I think she’s the one person in town I didn’t try.” Fabi pulled back and looked at Jazzy. She had tears in her own eyes, which touched Jazzy’s heartstrings and made her emotional again.
“He chose a bird over me.” Her voice came out strangled. “I’m used to men choosing you over me. But a bird?” She scoffed. “I must be really…something. Repulsive. Something.”
“You are not repulsive.”
Jazzy managed a weak smile. It had taken her twenty minutes to get herself out of her car and inside the apartment. She’d known Fabi would react this way, but she couldn’t afford to pay for a hotel room in a town down the road for much longer.
“Do you want to go lie down?” Fabi asked, sweeping her fingers across Jazzy’s forehead. In a life where Jazzy had spent so much time taking care of her younger sister, it sure felt nice to have the roles reversed.
“I have chicken in the slow cooker,” Fabi continued. “I was about to put rice on, and if you go lay down for an hour or so, dinner will be ready.”
Jazzy cracked a smile. “Look who’s the responsible one now.”
“Oh, don’t go giving me labels.” Fabi stood. “Ed was going to come over, but I’ll call him and let him know you’re back.”
“I don’t want you to cancel with him because of me.” Jazzy stood and followed her sister into the kitchen.
“Whatever. It’s fine.” Fabi fixed Jazzy with a stern look, but her voice wavered a tiny bit when she said, “You’re more important, Jazz.”
Emotions swelled inside Jazzy again, and she ducked her head and retreated to the bedroom. She didn’t feel more important. Stuffed near the end of a long line of kids, Jazzy had stayed out of trouble for most of her life. She’d always had Fabi’s shadow to exist in, and she’d always had Fabi to take care of. She and Fabi had talked so much about what they wanted, and now that Jazzy had been presented with the possibility of a life with someone as wonderful as Max Robinson, she’d seized onto it with both fists.
A mistake, she told herself. Falling for a man who doesn’t even realize he hasn’t let go of anything in a decade.
One thing Jazzy had learned over the three days she’d been hiding out in Beaverton was that she had indeed fallen in love with Max. She wasn’t sure when, or for how long, but the only way she could describe the depth of her feelings was with the word love.
She sat on the end of her bed, not sure what to do next. She was only tired mentally, and physical sleep did blessedly turn her mind off. She laid back on the bed, a slip of pain trailing down her spine from her fall several weeks ago.
Jazzy ignored it and let her eyes drift closed. She was aware of small sounds beyond the closed bedroom door, but they faded into the background. Jazzy felt like she was floating up, up, and away, and her limbs felt light and airy.
In her fantasy, Max threw a ball to a magnificent golden retriever, who bounded after it with joy on his face. There were no squawking birds in the background, and no feminine touches in the house where he led the dog to get a drink.
Jazzy hovered above it all, watching the beautiful man she loved from afar, wishing he would look around and see her there. See her at all.
Chapter Fourteen
“I don’t know about this.” Max shifted his feet as he and Ed stood outside the twins’ apartment. “She hasn’t called me back.”
“She only showed up an hour ago.” Ed lifted his fist to knock, but Max grabbed it.
“Maybe I should just go home. Give her the time you talked about.”
“Look, man. We spent the day clearing your life of everything holding you back. Are you ready to move forward or what?”
“I am.” Max swallowed. “I think.” Honestly, he hadn’t known until Thursday that he was solidly stuck in the past. Could he really be ready to take a step forward after only one day? He and Ed were just crossing back into Brush Creek when Fabi’s call came through, and Ed had put her on speaker.
She’s home.
Those words had been moving through Max’s mind since Fabi’s call. He didn’t want this apartment to be Jazzy’s home. He wanted to build a home with her, a new life together, but he wasn’t even sure he owned all the tools for such construction.
“I’m going to go,” he said. “I’m not ready for this.” He turned away amidst Ed’s protests, but Max knew how he felt. He may not go to Sunday services every week, but he knew how to pay attention to his gut, and showing up only an hour after Jazzy had returned to town—without a phone call—wasn’t right.
He gained the bottom of the steps at the same time he heard Fabi say, “Hey, Eddie,” in a the fun, flirty tone that only the Fuller girls could achieve.
Eddie. Max scoffed. He’d literally never heard someone call Ed Eddie before. He went outside, knowing Jazzy was inside that apartment but unable to face her quite yet. She needed to come to him, and if she needed time to do that, so be it.
Max went home and changed into an old pair of gym shorts and a ratty T-shirt from his days in the paramedic academy. Then he changed that light gray mantle to the black he’d wanted eight years ago. He made the stark white walls that Irina had insisted would make the smaller space bigger and brighter a shade of robin’s egg blue that the saleswoman at the paint store had assured him was the in-color right now.
He painted long after the sun went down, finally collapsing into bed well after midnight, glad he’d physically exhausted himself so he didn’t have to spend the long minutes before he fell asleep obsessing over the fact that Jazzy still hadn’t called him.
The next morning, his phone woke him. A beam of sunlight slanted across his face, blinding him as he opened his eyes and tried to find his phone. A groan tore through his throat and he missed the call.
He fell back to the pillows, the scent of the new bedding still a bit strange in his nose, but he was awake now. Gradually, his eyes adjusted to the light, and a headache made itself manifest. After swallowing some painkillers, he got in the shower, knowing he’d have to re-bathe after he went next door and took care of Matilda’s yard.
She’d come home on Friday morning, and her son had gone home Friday afternoon. Max had checked in with her twice yesterday, and he’d promised to get her yard work done today, as usual.
His phone was ringing as he wrapped a towel around himself, but he didn’t even try to get it. If it was a job-related emergency, they could call someone else. If it was Ed, he could wait until Max had shaved and eaten. Anyone else…well, his mother or sister could wait too.
He went through the actions of eating and shaving, each movement methodical and managed. When he finally felt like himself again, he looked around the bedroom he’d shared with his first wife.
Nothing of her remained. Not the curtains. Not the bedding. Not the lamp that Max had thought looke
d more like a piece of art than something he just needed to use to light his way at night.
He and Ed had cleaned it all out, and Max had picked up the essentials at a department store in Vernal. He could go to Preston’s here in town and get new curtains and a new lamp and anything he needed. For now, the minimalist way of life suited him just fine.
The house seemed unusually quiet after all the noisy chatter from Birdy. Max didn’t miss the bird though, and yes, he knew the Coopers had a few birds already. Birdy would fit right in there, and another flash of gratitude that Cathy had agreed so quickly to get rid of the bird pulled through him.
He picked up his phone, almost ready to go next door to mow and trim.
“Jazzy.” Her name wheezed through his lips. She’d called twice.
He pressed too hard against the screen in his haste to call her back, but his doorbell rang before the call even started ringing. He hung up as he went down the hall, needing peace and quiet and time to talk to Jazzy when there wasn’t someone at the door.
And who would be stopping by on a Sunday morning anyway?
He pulled open the door, maybe a little too harshly, maybe with a little too much frustration.
A woman with dark hair stood there, glorious and radiant in a white dress printed with brightly colored flowers. Her long legs ended in a pair of bright red heels, and when Max’s eyes met hers, he realized it was Jazzy.
He breathed her name again, hardly daring to believe the striking brunette was his Jazzy.
“I’m sorry,” she said, lifting her chin a fraction of an inch the way she did whenever she had something hard to say. “I was hoping you’d consider coming to church with me today and then taking a walk through the park.”
“No,” he said. “No, no, no.” He didn’t need an apology, not from her. He swept her into his arms and took a deep breath of her skin. That same floral fragrance that followed him into his dreams filled his entire soul.
“No?” she repeated.
