Mugs of Love

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  My breathing calms with this realization along with one other. I’ve felt this before…in the grocery store yesterday. I seriously doubt Garrett is a peeping Tom. No, I don’t doubt it; I know he’s not. Garrett Sharp has no reason to peer through windows. He’s the guy girls stalk not the other way around.

  I know someone was watching me though. If it’s not Adam and certainly not Garrett, who is it? I start to panic again as Jordan announces the all clear. I still can’t move. I’ve scared myself more trying to figure this out.

  The closet slides open and Jordan’s large frame crawls under my clothes toward me.

  “Come on, honey,” he requests softly, his hand outstretched.

  I place my icy fingers in his hand and he heaves me out of my hiding spot. He holds my tremoring frame in his lap and starts to laugh.

  I sit up and glare at him.

  “It was a raccoon, Em. I almost blew the thing’s head off,” he chokes out.

  I let the relief of that wash over me and then I tumble into deep belly laughs right along with my best friend and protector. I wipe tears off my cheeks as I climb out of Jordan’s lap and attempt to help him off the floor. He just drags me back down, tickling me until I almost pee my pants.

  When we finally settle down, we decide to watch another movie. I think we’re both still amped from the raccoon. I feel like an idiot, but a relieved one. I snuggle onto Jordan’s chest as he pushes play on Pineapple Express. We’ve had a Seth Rogan marathon today, laughing was the name of the game.

  I drift off in Jordan’s arms again, feeling happy and whole as his deep chuckles vibrate beneath my cheek.

  He made me feel better. He always makes me feel better. He looked like he felt better today too. Like it was as important for him to be here with me as it was for me to be here with him. We do that for each other. This is love. Not mugs of love, but it’s love all the same.

  “And I think I should move in!” Jordan roars from the kitchen.

  “And I think you’re bein’ overprotective!”

  We’ve been yelling at each other for twenty minutes now. We woke up this morning and I came into the shop while Jordan ran home to shower and put on clean clothes. Now he’s here fighting with me.

  “Why? Give me one good reason,” Jordan snarls, throwing the swinging door open.

  “You have your own life. I refuse to let Adam dictate my life or yours,” I grumble back.

  He drops his chin to his chest and breathes deeply before stalking toward me.

  “I forget this sometimes,” he murmurs into my hair after crushing me to his chest.

  “What?” I gasp out.

  He loosens his hold slightly before responding, “That you always need to do the right thing. Why can’t you be needy and neurotic like other women? Anyone else would be freaked out and beggin’ me to move in.”

  “Adam’s broken, Jordan. He’s hurting. I know he caused it, but I had a hand in it too. Don’t start yelling again. It takes two people to ruin a relationship. I had a part in our demise, just not as big as his.”

  “You’re gonna make some dude the luckiest motherfucker in the world one day, Em,” he says with pride, setting me back.

  I beam a smile at him thinking he’ll make some woman just as lucky. He kisses my forehead and saunters back into the kitchen. He’ll go out for a smoke now.

  We’ve had this same conversation every few months since we met. Jordan wants to keep a watchful eye on me and I’m determined to be okay on my own. If I really thought I needed Jordan in my house, I wouldn’t hesitate to have him move in with me.

  Jordan started telling me I needed to let him move in about a month after we met. I told him I was having nightmares, waking up screaming and sweating. I’m sure they were about losing my mother, but I could never remember the dreams only waking up gasping for air with wet cheeks. Jordan demanded that I let him move in. I refused, saying I needed to be able to heal on my own.

  In truth, at the time I didn’t want to depend on him. I depended on my mother so much and she was gone. I couldn’t bear that happening again. I kept Jordan at an arm’s length as long as I could, which was only another few weeks. I didn’t try too hard when I think about it. I needed him. Sometimes I think my mom sent him to me, to watch over me…to make me laugh again.

  Every time Jordan sees an opportunity to demand I let him move in with me, he takes it. I always refuse. For the last five years, it hasn’t been as serious as it was today. Jordan meant it today. He wasn’t pushing me just to mess with me. He was scared for my wellbeing.

  I’m sick of Adam making my life this unsettled. He still has power over me and it’s time for that to stop. I’m going to call him or go see him once the Fall Festival’s over. It’s time to end this once and for all so I can go back to my happy, contented life. I deserve that.

  Adam owes me that.

  She knew I was watching her. Emily didn’t hear me or see me, she felt me outside her bedroom window.

  It was stupid of me to go there, but I had to see her with my own eyes. I had to know she was okay. I ended up scaring the shit out of her. I’m a selfish prick.

  The raccoon digging through the trash was a good cover and one I was glad to have when Jordan pulled out his 1911 with the intent of homicide on his usually calm face. I quickly maneuvered away, watching Jordan circle the house like a pro. If he had caught me, there’s no doubt in my mind he would have plugged me full of bullets.

  I was getting ready to head back to my car when I heard Emily screech. I ran back to her window to find Jordan on top of her, tickling her mercilessly. The smile on her face looked almost painful as she weakly fought him off her. I stole the warmth I’d missed from her all day. I make it through Sundays without Emily because I stay busy the entire time until Monday rolls around and I can get back that piece of her I’ve become dependent on.

  I knew something was wrong when Emily’s shop was dark before opening. I knew something was really wrong when Arlene and Beverly opened the shop. I knew something fucked up had happened when Jenna ran out of the shop with her phone to her ear after discovering Emily wasn’t there.

  Clyde went to get the story for me after that. The story he got was a lie, but one I was content with. Emily and Jordan decided to take the day off.

  Bullshit.

  Complete bullshit.

  But I made it through the rest of my workday knowing Emily was with Jordan and that meant she was safe. I still had to see her.

  So I saw her. I stole her warmth. And I went home to drain a six-pack. Then I woke up at three in the morning and came to my shop. I haven’t turned on a light or picked up a tool. I’m sitting in the dark watching Emily’s. If she doesn’t come in today, I’m going to find out what happened. I’ll go to her house, knock on her door like a normal person and get the story.

  I know this is about Adam. He didn’t hurt her because Jordan would be in the sheriff’s custody if that happened. I have no doubt Jordan’s hanging on by a thinly strung thread. I know how he feels.

  Her headlights illuminate the street as she heads to the parking lot. My heart rate speeds up a little as I wait for her to walk past me. She’s calm and collected when she does. Emily’s not running scared or looking over her shoulder as she moves. She’s floating without effort. That relaxes me.

  Once she’s in her shop, she flips the lock and heads into the kitchen. I can’t see her in there, but I don’t worry. I know she’s safe. Then I hear Jordan’s Harley in the distance and I’m certain she’s safe. I settle further into a rocking chair I built months ago, but haven’t been able to put in the store yet. It’s become my Emily watching chair. I doubt I’ll ever let it go.

  I continue to watch Emily glide in and out of the kitchen, plating and arranging. She starts taking chairs down and wiping tables, while Jordan gets the register going. Then they’re fighting. I can tell by how animated Emily is as she speaks, arms moving wildly. Jordan stomps into the kitchen, but they’re still going at it.

 
; She’s quiet and then she’s yelling. This goes on for almost half an hour until Jordan comes out of the kitchen to confront her again. The standoff ends quickly as he folds her in his arms and speaks kindly. There’s still tension in his body as he comforts her, but it’s fading.

  They bicker a lot, but rarely fight like what I just witnessed. Whatever happened yesterday must’ve been stressful. It’s not evident as I watch Emily make her morning coffee, but it is as I watch Jordan leave her alone to go smoke. I know that’s what he’s doing because that was intense enough that I’d like a cigarette, even though I quit while I was in prison.

  Emily sits at her usual table and blows into her mug, settling her gaze on the river valley. A small smile tugs at the corners of her succulent mouth as she watches the fog. I steal more warmth from this moment than I usually do. Before I met Emily in person, I took a little here and a little there. Now I steal every moment I can get. I’m becoming obsessed. I feel more like a stalker every day. It has to stop. I can’t keep this up. My connection with her is dangerous for both of us.

  Knowing that, I still can’t pry my eyes off her.

  Not yet.

  I hear Clyde parking in the back and climb to my feet so he doesn’t catch me. He knows I watch her, but not how often or why. I flip on the overhead lights and start sanding the table I’ve been working on.

  “Mornin’,” Clyde grunts.

  I offer him a chin lift, not meeting his gaze.

  “Got the gossip as best I could. Seems Adam called Emily. The details on that are fuzzy and turning into a bad game of telephone at this point. Arlene seems to have the best information. She believes Emily was too upset to work. Jordan made the executive decision on that and kept his girl home. That little pissant needs to be dealt with,” he grumbles, referring to Adam.

  I agree, but I don’t say that. I just keep sanding.

  Clyde waits for a few moments before heading into the store. She was too upset to work. I was worried before. Now I’m fucking pissed off. She wasn’t afraid of him or what he might do. She was sad and that’s hazardous. It means Adam’s getting to her, that need she has to do the right thing. He’s trying to convince her she’s done the wrong thing. I underestimated this little prick. What’s worse is, I can’t do anything about it. Him stalking her, I can deal with. Him trying to pull at her heartstrings is out of my control.

  I need a beer. It’s just past seven in the morning and I need a beer. This day is going to suck. With the Fall Festival tomorrow, the town will be buzzing today. Clyde and I are done with everything we need to do so I can focus on other things in the shop. I could go home and take a day off, get my head back on straight.

  I look up from sanding and see Emily’s line is to the door already. Her face is glowing as she talks to customers. I steal some warmth and put my head back down. I won’t leave. I can’t pull myself away from her.

  I lose myself in my work after a while. When I finish sanding, I start working on another rocking chair. It’s nothing that’s been ordered or requested, just something I feel like doing. I saw, carve and shape until lunch. Jenna showed up a few hours ago, looking drained and a little pale. I note it, but I don’t get concerned. She looks better the longer she’s with Emily. Not that she’s getting much time with her. The line at Emily’s hasn’t thinned since she opened. I’ve never seen it this busy. I know it’s outside the norm when Arlene shows up to lend a hand.

  It must be exhausting working like she is, but Emily’s smile hasn’t faltered once. She looks as serene as she always is. She’s still taking her time with customers and they continue to wait patiently. This would be the perfect time to return her money. She won’t be able to argue or take a break to try to convince me she’s doing the right thing by paying me back.

  I won’t do that to her today. She had a bad day yesterday and I don’t want today to be another one. I have a plan for getting the money back to her. A good one.

  I eat a quick sandwich and get back to work until my phone chirps with a text.

  Devlin: My woman’s not answering. She good?

  Me: Yeah.

  Devlin: You sure about that?

  Me: Looks a little worse for wear.

  Devlin: Fuck.

  Me: Problem?

  The phone rings and I answer without saying anything.

  “We got into it last night. She’s got some dick professor givin’ her shit. I may have threatened to have a talk with him. Jenna didn’t like that,” he explains.

  “She know you?” I ask, thinking what the hell is she doing with him if this makes her uncomfortable?

  “She knows me. She’s also stubborn as hell and never wants any fuckin’ help. She doesn’t give a shit about what I do. She grew up with some fucked up shit. The club doesn’t faze her like that. Jenna’s pissed I’m tryin’ to step in. Tried to explain that’s what a man does. She informed me maybe she shouldn’t have a man then. Shit went downhill from there,” he huffs.

  I’m not really in the mood to give relationship advice. Don’t think I ever will be. What the fuck should I tell him anyway? He’s a man, doing the right thing in my opinion. I don’t think a man should control his woman, but he should see to her, make her life easier. That’s what Devlin’s trying to do.

  “On the sly,” I grunt.

  “Is that what you’d do?” he asks seriously.

  “Yeah.”

  “And when she finds out I went behind her back and puts my nuts in a meat grinder? She threatened that shit,” he snorts.

  “She doesn’t,” I dictate.

  “Right. Can you see her?”

  I look into the shop. It’s so packed I can only see her hair.

  “Not really.”

  “I’ve gotta get off here. Text me if she doesn’t look good when she’s leavin’.”

  “Later.”

  “Later.”

  I get back to work. My store’s busy today with all the extra foot traffic. Clyde’s got it under control. I shouldn’t be dealing with the public today. I probably shouldn’t most days. You can only grunt and growl at people so much before it effects your business. I haven’t had an issue yet because I do my best to behave like a normal human being when I deal with customers. Days like this, I can’t.

  I also can’t deal with Sarah. When I see her passing the windows, I hide. I almost laugh thinking about Emily doing the same thing in here a few days ago. I’m turning into a chick to avoid this bitch. One more day.

  I can hear her whining and pleading with Clyde to let her in the shop. That man is an unmovable tree. Not happening. Then he shows her the stall he built her and she has a full-blown fit. If I laughed, I’d be doubled over in hysterics right now. She’s so incensed she’s screaming at the top of her lungs. The comedy of the moment ends when she starts insulting Clyde.

  I push off the wall and stomp into the store. Sarah halts her berating, her finger only a few inches from Clyde’s face when she sees me. The gaze I hit her with causes her to tremble as she drops her hand.

  “Garrett,” she begins to apologize.

  “Don’t,” I growl. “Get outta this store. Pick the stall up in the morning or don’t, I don’t give a shit. You asked for somethin’ last minute, so you got a last minute job. You do not get to unleash your bitch on him because you fucked up.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. She’s not sorry for what she said to Clyde. She’s sorry she pissed me off. Big difference.

  “Yeah you are. You’re the sorriest excuse for a woman I’ve seen in a long time. Consider tomorrow cancelled. There’s no fuckin’ way I’d spend time with you after the shit you just pulled.”

  Sarah jerks back at my insult, but I can see she’s not going to back down easily. I had hoped to do this tomorrow, but the opportunity to brush her off is one I’m not passing up. She’s lucky this is what she’s getting instead of what I had planned for her. I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to follow through. Oh well.

  “Garrett, it was just a weak mom
ent. Tailored is everything to me. I need it represented well,” she tries to explain why she called Clyde a white trash piece of shit.

  Clyde hasn’t uttered a word or moved a muscle. He’s not offended by what she said. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. He’s worried I’m going to do something fucked up. It’s a valid concern.

  “Should’ve thought about that before you gave us a few days to make you a stall. Not my problem. And if this was a weak moment, what were all the other times you’ve run your mouth in the last few days?” I ask with a quirked brow.

  “What?” She sounds shocked that I know she’s been running her mouth.

  “You’re a bitch, Sarah. Don’t act surprised I know that.”

  “What?” she screeches. “You asked me out!”

  “Mistake,” I grunt.

  I’ve talked enough. I don’t need to say anything else to make my point. I nod toward the door, letting her know she’s been dismissed. She opens her mouth like she’s going to argue and I level her with a stare. It communicates everything I need it to. Get the fuck out before I remove you with my hands.

  She races out of the store.

  Finally.

  I watch her go, making sure she doesn’t head toward Emily’s. I don’t think she will, but I don’t trust her not to take out her anger on someone else. She runs all the way to her shop and I let out a relieved breath to be done with her.

  “Good job,” Clyde compliments with a swift clap on my back.

  “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “Still.”

  “Not your fault, boy,” he says sternly.

  I nod and move back to the shop. Emily just closed almost thirty minutes after closing time. She has a massive smile on her face, creasing her cheek deeply as she drags Jenna out of her chair. The two of them start dancing around together, swinging each other around the quaint space. They’re both lit up like sparklers on the Fourth of July, bright and shiny.