by Nikki Young
We were always meant to be together.
Our bond is as old as we are.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I’m certain I kissed Benji at least a million times, clinging to him like a teenage girl as he dropped me off at the airport. Jack told me he’d pick me up, but there’s just something about a goodbye at the airport that made me say no. Maybe it’s the fact that I can say goodbye up until nearly the final moment or maybe it’s the selfish part of me that wanted as much time with Benji as possible before I had to leave. All I know is I’m sure I looked ridiculous. But I really don’t care. I’ve spent too much time away from him to worry how stupid I looked saying goodbye to him or what other people thought. I feel like I have to spend the rest of my life making up for our time apart and I figured I might as well start with a goodbye at the airport. Although I’m only going to be gone for two days, actually it’s more like only a day and a half, but that doesn’t matter to me. It’s still time away from Benji.
I thought I would be more nervous as we neared landing, given I’m about to share everything with my parents, but I’m honestly not. I guess the fact that Benji and I finally have everything out in the open has helped, and also the reaction we’ve gotten since we’ve finally come clean.
Jack’s reaction to the accident, my involvement in it, and my behavior afterward was sympathetic, but not so much that it made me uncomfortable. It’s almost like he knew too much would cross the line and I’d have a hard time dealing with my emotions. I’m glad he didn’t push it, and I’m also thankful he agreed to come with me. Maybe his presence has played a part in my lack of nerves. It’s nice to have him along for support.
I think there comes a point with a situation like this that the relief of sharing it outweighs people’s reactions or my own nervousness and guilt. If anything, this is about absolution and forgiveness for myself, and the hope there is an understanding from friends and family. But if there isn’t, I know I’ve done what I can. There is no greater correction than honesty.
The plane lands and as soon as we can switch our phones on, we both do, and find a group text message from our mother.
Mom: Your father is playing golf. Take a cab. I’m not going out in this heat.
We obviously both read it at the same time, because the look on Jack’s face has to be a mirror image of mine. I’m not sure why we both have a what-the-fuck face on. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to either of us.
“Seriously?” Jack asks, clearly annoyed.
“At least she sent a text. Normally we’d have to call her after waiting outside for an hour.”
“Guess you’re right,” Jack responds, but still lets out a frustrated huff as he grabs our bags from the overhead bin.
Unloading the plane takes longer than usual and Jack is getting more and more pissed off. It seems like he’s more stressed about this whole thing than I am. When he practically shoves into the elderly couple in front of us, I put my hand on his shoulder.
“Jack,” I whisper-shout, and he turns to look at me. “Relax. We’ll get off the plane. And I don’t want you running down grandma and grandpa to do it.”
“Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes at me. I don’t get what his problem is. Maybe he decided he didn’t want to come after all and this is now just a huge inconvenience for him.
“What’s your problem?” I ask, just as annoyed with him as he is with whatever is bothering him. I didn’t ask him to come with me; he volunteered.
“Nothing, Campbell,” he says, shaking his head as the line finally starts to move. This is the Jack I’ve known all my life—the crabby, irritable and unpredictable one. The one who is my boss and runs his company like a well-oiled machine, leaving little time for pleasantries. This is the way it’s always been and I shouldn’t think our relationship would change overnight just because he was understanding and sympathetic after I told him about the accident. I’m sure he’s still processing everything, too.
I blow it off. No sense in making a big deal out of something that would’ve been normal to us in the past.
Jack hails a cab as soon as we’re outside, not even bothering to wait in the cab line and when one speeds up to the curb, he barely waits for it to stop before he whips open the door. Tossing in his bag, he doesn’t even let me get in first, just climbs in and slides over.
“Okay, seriously, Jack. What the fuck?” I ask, as I slam the cab door and bark out the address to the driver.
He lets out a long exhale before he turns to me and says, “You know how she’s going to react, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mom. You know she isn’t really going to care.” He looks away from me, his head turned and looking out the window now.
“That’s okay, Jack. This isn’t about her,” I tell him, as I now understand why he’s been behaving the way he has.
“You’re right. This is about you and I don’t want you to be hurt by her reaction,” Jack says sharply, and again he exhales hard.
“Why are you worrying about this?” I question, wondering why this is suddenly bothering him.
“Because I worry about you, Campbell. I always have, even when you didn’t think I cared. I did. I still do and now given everything you’ve told me, I don’t want you to be let down by Mom’s reaction to it. She doesn’t care.”
“Jack,” I say, but it comes out sorrowfully. “Mom does care. This is just who she is.”
“I’m glad you can just so readily accept that.”
His tone is harsh and I understand why he’s upset, but this is the way it’s been all our lives. He can’t expect her to change. She loves us in her own way. The only way she knows how and while it might not be conventional or normal, I’ve always been okay with it.
We were well cared for and she made us laugh and she read to us at night and made us hot chocolate after we played in the snow. She made our lunches every day and was home when we got off the bus, but she wasn’t a hugger and a kisser. She didn’t write us notes about having a good day and stuff them in our lunchboxes, she didn’t profess her love for her children or brag about our accomplishments. It wasn’t in her nature and it still isn’t.
I haven’t set myself up for anything in my choice to come here. I know what her reaction will be, but she and my dad are another group of people on my list of acceptance and self-preservation. They need to be told what happened, just as I had to tell Jack. It’s part of moving on.
I reach over and run my hand down Jack’s arm. I’m eternally grateful that he’s come to support me and help me see this through, but I can’t have him upset over what he thinks our mother’s reaction will be.
“It’s okay, seriously,” I say, trying to reassure him that I’ll be fine. “If anything, I’m pretty much geared up for no reaction, so anything beyond that will be a miracle.”
Jack looks back over at me, this time a weak smile on his face and I shrug my shoulders casually.
“Sometimes you amaze me, Campbell,” he says, but that’s as far as we get, because the cab pulls up outside our parents’ house.
“Let’s do this shit and then get drunk,” I say, as Jack opens the door to the cab.
“Hell, yes.”
We don’t bother to ring the doorbell. Using our key, we let ourselves in, but find the house empty.
“You told them you had something important to talk about, right?” Jack asks, as he walks through the house.
“Yeah. Maybe she thinks we’re here to talk about nursing homes so she’s avoiding us.”
Jack laughs at my lame attempt at a joke. “She gets to live with you,” he retorts. “I’ll take Dad.”
Just as I’m about to argue, the back door slams and we both stop and see our mother walking toward us.
She’s ridiculously tan and she smells like coconut and sea salt. Not a bad combination, but paired with her pastel Lily Pulitzer outfit and overly blonde hair, she looks like your typical Floridian. Jack laughs out loud when he sees her and I smack h
is arm. It has to have been at least three years since we’ve seen her and six years since she and our father moved down here. I can see she’s fitting in nicely.
“Oh good, you’re here,” she says in the way of a greeting. “Did you put your stuff in the bedrooms?”
“Not yet, Mom,” Jack says before adding, “By the way, it’s nice to see you too.”
“Oh Jack, don’t be a crab. Of course it’s nice to see you both.” She steps over and hugs us both awkwardly, which really only adds to the hilarity of the situation as she says, “Robert should be home any minute.”
I chuckle under my breath at her use of our father’s name. She’s always called him by his first name, like if she called him dad, we’d suddenly have no idea who she was talking about.
“Dad’s playing golf?” I ask, as I emphasize his name jokingly.
“Yep. I don’t even know how in this heat.” She sighs dramatically and both Jack and I laugh this time.
“Ma, it’s like seventy-five degrees. That’s not hot. Back home it’s in the thirties already,” Jack says.
“See, that’s why I left Chicago. Too damn cold. But here, now it’s too hot.”
I look at Jack and he nods his head toward the bedrooms and we leave her grumbling about the heat and our father playing too much golf.
“You sure you want to do this?” Jack asks as he shakes his head.
“Yeah. And I know, she’s ridiculous, but whatever.” I wave a dismissive hand in the direction of where we left our mother as we both retreat to our bedrooms.
A few minutes later our father arrives home and we all meet in the kitchen. He hugs us both and it’s entirely less awkward than our mother’s useless attempt. Sitting around the table with our mother still sighing dramatically about the weather and golf and something about a bakery being out of her favorite cookies, our father interrupts her.
“So what’s going on?” he asks. “You said you needed to talk to us about something?” He’s looking at me rather than Jack. I’m the one who called to say we’d be visiting, but gave them little after that.
Jack folds his hands on the table and looks over at me, giving me a soft smile as if to encourage me on, so I decide just to lay it all out there. Parents are supposed to love their children no matter what.
“Remember the car accident when Sam died?” I ask, and even I realize how idiotic that sounds. Of course they fucking remember. My father nods and my mother continues to inspect her no-chip manicure. “I was in the car when it happened. Actually we all were: Benji, Kelly, Tommy and me. And we left the scene after the accident. For the last nine years I’ve lived with the guilt of what I did and how it affected more than just my own life.”
“Oh, Campbell,” my father says, my heart breaking at the sound of pity in his voice. “We always knew something was up, but we never wanted to pressure you to talk. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
I knew my father would respond this way. He was always the more sympathetic of the two, but still reserved.
“Thanks, Dad. I’m dealing with it now and things are getting better,” I say, truly appreciating his response. “Benji and I are back together, so that’s helping a lot. Having someone who understands it has helped me cope.”
My mother looks up from her nails, but her expression hasn’t changed. “I wish you would’ve told us, Campbell. You know I would’ve found you a great therapist.”
And that’s that. Her way of solving things is to pawn it off on someone else. Hire a gardener to maintain the lawn, get someone to plow the driveway when it snows, enlist someone to clean the house, find someone to help your kid through a crisis.
I wonder if I should feel hurt or put off by her nonchalant approach, but the more thought I give it, the more I realize this is how she would respond. I’m learning you can’t base your feelings on someone else’s reaction, because if I did, something like this would definitely hurt. I think her response is actually comforting in a way. People would say she’s callous, even cold, but to me, it’s normal.
“Yep,” Jack lets out on a hard exhale and I laugh out loud. It is what it is and when she starts talking again all I can do is shake my head.
“Did you know they want to build a Perkins here?” She slams her hands down on the table and sighs. “In Marco Island, can you believe it? This is not a chain restaurant kind of town.”
“Ma, there’s a Little Caesar’s here,” Jack deadpans, and his ability to challenge her makes me smile.
“You know what I mean, Jack,” she replies, annoyed with both of us already.
It is what it is, I think as we all leave the table without any more discussion.
As Jack and I are walking back toward the bedrooms, he throws his arm around my shoulders, but this time there’s a smile on his face.
“Went exactly as I expected,” I say to him. “Guess that’s a good thing.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Now let’s go get some drinks.”
Chapter Thirty
Jack pulls up outside my house, dropping me off from the airport, and just as I’m about to exit, his voice stops me.
“Hey Campbell,” he says. “I know you’ve got a million other things going on…” He stops short and then says, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
I look over at him, his eyes are sad and I hate that I have to tell him yes. I wish there were a way I could make this all work. I feel like I owe Jack so much, and for once since I’ve started working for him, he isn’t concerned about his company or the job I hold there. He’s worried about me leaving; for once it’s about our relationship and not the one we have professionally.
“I am,” I answer, but for some reason I can’t look at him when I say it. “I can’t ask Benji to give up everything he has worked so hard for.” And as I say it, I swear I see a flash of defiance in Jack’s eyes, but it fades quickly. It was almost like he wanted to ask what happens to all the time and effort I put into my career, into his company and into both our lives. But it’s like he realized that it’s futile to argue with me when he knows the only thing I really ever wanted was Benji.
“You don’t have to quit,” he tells me, and I give him a strange look. Of course I have to quit. I’m moving nine hours away, to the middle of nowhere and there isn’t even a possibility of commuting. Jack has also never been a fan of letting people work from home; he says it breeds laziness and unproductivity. Plus he also likes everyone who works for him to have a connection to the clients they deal with, that somehow meeting them in person makes it easier to convince them to give up everything they’ve worked so hard for. And actually, it probably does. It’s a lot easier to say no to someone via an email or over the phone.
“What do you mean?” I ask confused by his comment.
“You can work from there. Most of what you do is internet based and when needed you can come to the office.” He shrugs his shoulders as if it’s as simple as that. And maybe it is. I’ve never really liked my job, but it could also be that I was never really happy to begin with. It’s hard to find yourself excited about something when the cloud of depression that hangs over you never recedes. Things could be different now that I’m more in control of my life. And I’ve often thought about what I would do when I move in with Benji. I’ve never been the kind of girl to not work or to let someone else take care of me. I would like to be able to contribute despite everything Benji has said about it not mattering if I have a job or not.
“Really?” I ask, knowing this could possibly cause a lot of problems for him. “What about the other people in the office? The ones who want to work from home?” I’ve never wanted Jack to treat me differently from the rest of his employees and by choosing Jack’s suggestion; it would definitely make me stand out.
“Who gives a fuck,” Jack says flippantly. “I own the company, Campbell, and if that’s the call I want to make then I’ll make it.” He’s very firm in his words and it almost makes me laugh. I know no one in the office would challenge his decision even if they think it’
s solely based on the fact that we’re family. “You’re my sister and if I want to change things to accommodate my family, then I will.”
“Seriously?” I question again, wondering if this could possibly work. “I’m nine hours away. You realize I can’t be driving back here once a week, right?” Jack laughs, and it fills the car making me smile. “Stop laughing at me,” I tell him and he laughs again.
“I know you’re going to be nine hours away and of course I wouldn’t demand that you be in the office every week.” He rolls his eyes acting like my thought is preposterous. But in all the time I’ve worked for Jack, he expected everything to go smoothly and perfectly, something like this could really throw a wrench in his plans.
“I know you think I’m demanding, but in actuality it was you who was always demanding of yourself. I’ve always cut you some slack, but you never took it. Take it now, Campbell. Enjoy your life with Benji and be happy. Don’t make this more than it is. It’s a job and you’ll always have one with me no matter where you’re at.”
I almost start to cry as I realize it was probably always me that pushed him away. While we never really had anything in common growing up, I used that to become more defiant and closed off after the accident. If he were interested in having a relationship with me, I never would’ve noticed anyway. And as much as I like to paint him out to be the bad guy, the one who didn’t really like me, it was never like that. I notice we have more in common as adults than we ever did before and I know it’s now time to move beyond the past and start accepting his help and his friendship.
“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed by his kindness. He doesn’t have to treat me this way, but I’m grateful he’s able to forgive me so quickly. This isn’t just about the job. It’s about everything he’s done for me.
“No problem. We can talk more about it later. Work everything out. Just go and once you’re moved and settled up there, we can figure out how it’s all going to work. No pressure, though,” he adds, and now it’s me that’s laughing.
