Find Me

by Tory Jane

  On the anniversary of the day he left, he sends an engraved note.

  You turned your back on us. I believed in you. I loved you. Why would you do this to me? To us?

  I want to scream. “I didn't. I didn't leave you. I didn't know. I'm sorry, Jack.” I hurt him, and I didn't even know. Why didn't he fight harder to find me?

  I can't read any more tonight. It will be downhill from this point. Instead, I decide to share my frustration. Four years too late, I want to respond.

  Snapping a picture of the notecard with my phone, I text it to him. Then I write.

  I want to scream in frustration and pain. This is four years too late, but Jack, believe me when I tell you that I never left you. I didn't know. I never turned my back on you. Why was it my responsibility? Why didn't you fight harder to find me? If you believed in me, you would have uncovered the truth.

  I wish you were here with me. I do not want to read these letters alone.

  Please don’t read anymore, Belle. Stop there, for now. Let’s talk through them together. I don’t want you to feel alone. No matter what I did, it has always been you. I came back for you. I’m here because of you. I love you.

  As much as I'm tempted to read more, uncover more revelations, I set the letters aside. I'm not sure what the truth is anymore.

  I flip over one more. It is a postcard from Spain.

  I am in Spain, studying for a summer semester. Missing you, wishing you were here with me. Never forget how much I love you.

  Jealousy gnaws at me. I was frittering away my life. Making bad choices. Fucking strangers. Trying to survive with an enormous hole in my life. He was living. I was barely alive.

  Saturday Brunch

  Four days until Christmas. It’s been two days since I’ve seen or heard from Jack.

  The good news is that I’ve been so busy with the shop that I’ve had little time to obsess. During the day, at least. Nights are a different story. Thank god for wine and weed.

  We’re meeting early for Saturday brunch today because I need to be at the shop by 10:00, and Julia, and Wallace are finalizing their Christmas preparations. Julia is also coming to the boutique with me to try on dresses and shop for festive clothes.

  It’s much quieter at Kudu at 8:30 in the morning. I suspect the Farmer’s Market, only a few blocks away in Marion Square, is where all the action is.

  Wallace and Julia walk in laughing. Julia cries, “Close your eyes, Belle.” What’s going on? I cover my eyes and wait for them. I can hear them approach and Julia says, “Okay, you can look.” She’s holding a gorgeous woman in front of her.

  Wallace cut her long hair. It is shoulder length, layered, with long bangs. Her natural wave has been set free. She’s wearing minimal make-up, but her blue-green eyes look ten times bigger and brighter. The grin she wears from ear to ear is the brilliant accessory.

  She spins for me. “Well? What do you think?”

  I jump up and hug her. “Ah! Beautiful, happy, and free. How do you feel?”

  “Honestly, I feel great. It’s silly. I know it’s only clothes and a haircut, but I feel like a different woman. I feel hot.”

  I hug her tighter. “It’s not the clothes and the haircut. It is your beautiful confidence and that amazing smile. You feel beautiful and that makes you hot! I love it.”

  “Ben looks surprised every time he sees me. He’s definitely paying more attention.” She gives me a wry smile. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

  “This is perfect. I have a crazy idea. Let’s go over to the Farmer’s Market and get our picture taken with Santa.”

  Julia claps her hands. “Yes. I want to sit on Santa's lap.”

  Wallace laughs. “I’m in. Do you think his lap is big enough for the three of us?”

  “Oh, we’ll make it work. As long as Santa doesn’t get too handsy.”

  Julia laughs. “I’m sure Kudu will forgive us. How many Saturdays have we spent here?”

  Rushing over to an empty vendor, we grab three hot chocolates and stand in line for Santa. When we reach the front of the line, the man in the Santa suit leers at us. Great. We have a creepy Santa. We climb up on the sleigh and sit between Santa and Mrs. Claus, giggling like teenagers. Pervert Santa puts his arm around us, and we all lean in together.

  We end up taking six pictures, and they’re perfect. The sun is shining, and the three of us almost look like we did fifteen years ago, laughing and hugging each other.

  As we fawn over the pictures, Julia declares, “I’m so happy. I love you guys so much.”

  “You know what? Me too. I’m happy. When is the last time I could say that? Thank you both. Thank you for standing by me. For believing in me.”

  Wallace hugs both of us. “Always. That makes three of us. I have a perma-grin today.” She grabs our hands. “Let’s wander through the Christmas trees and then sneak a smoke before we have to go be responsible adults again. I won’t even nag you, Julia.”

  There is a row of Christmas trees through the middle of the park, each decorated by students from schools throughout the city. We take out our phones, snap silly pictures of each other, selfies, and ask a stranger to take a few. We are in high spirits, the weight of life lifted from our shoulders for an hour. It’s the first time in many years that I have the Christmas spirit.

  We find a bench and sit for our smoke break. Julia doesn’t even bother pretending to look guilty.

  Once we're settled, I announce, “Jack and I had fucking fantastic sex, he told me about his son named Charlie, and told me he's going to marry me. He even talked to my father.”

  Wallace punches me. “Hey! What was that for?”

  “That is a lot of information to spring on us in one sentence.”

  Julia jumps up and hugs me. “Annabelle Leigh Tucker. Holy shit. Slow down and start from the beginning.”

  “What do you want to hear about first?”

  They both respond in unison. “The sex.”

  “You two are terrible. How old are we?”

  “We’re sophisticated women in our sexual prime who like to talk dirty. Bring it, sister.” Julia says primly.

  “You're right about that. Okay, I came home Thursday after our night, and he was waiting for me on my front porch steps.

  “He demanded that I open the door and let him in and then he literally stripped down in front of me and told me to take him to my bed. I told him that if he was there for a quick fuck, he should put his clothes back on and go home.” I beam at them and wiggle my eyebrows. “He stayed.”

  It’s my turn to be the sappy girl. “He loves me, he wants me, and he wants to marry me. He wants me to be ready for him and all that ‘his life entails.’ He didn’t elaborate on what that meant. We got a little distracted. I loved hearing it, but I sorta figured it was all just sex talk and he was swept up in the moment.

  “Afterward, he laughed at me. He knew I didn’t believe him. I was tough and told him I couldn’t believe him or trust him as long as he was keeping me a secret. That’s when he laughed. ‘What makes you think I’m keeping you a secret? You think I wouldn’t ask your father’s permission? You’re going to marry me.’ Ack! I think I’m going to marry Jack Cliff!

  “He needed to go home and we didn’t have time to elaborate on the whole ‘what his life entails’ business. He kept telling me he needed me to trust him, to open up to him, to be ready for him. He's always sneaking in and out. I know why, but it's frustrating.

  “Like the adult I am, I texted him. I confessed that I already knew what he was hiding. I had no idea how he would respond.” I pull out my phone, scroll through my messages, and find the picture he sent me. “This is how.” I show them my phone and they both gasp.

  Wallace, the mom, stares the longest. “Look at that sweet boy. He’s beautiful. That’s Charlie?”

  Julia muses, “Do you think they have the same name? John Charles?”

  “I would bet my life they do. I have to tell him.”

  Wallace is still staring at th
e picture. Julia focuses on the details. “Have you talked with him about any of this? That’s what he means about you being ready. He believes in you. Do you believe in yourself? Are you ready to be a stepmom?”

  “How can I know when we haven’t even talked about it? I haven’t heard from him since that text. I’ll admit that when I saw the picture, my heart yearned to hold that child.”

  Wallace looked at me and whispered, “Belle. Please don’t run. Don’t be afraid. You can do this. He’s just a baby. He needs a mother.”

  “But he has a mother. Somewhere. Who knows what the story is there. I'm desperate to talk to him. There are too many unanswered questions. Who is baby mama? Where is she? Is she involved? Is she here?”

  Glancing at my watch, I realize we have fifteen minutes left. Time for one more cigarette. Stepmothers don't smoke. Wallace and Julia smoke too. They're both mothers. Julia's pregnant. We are naughty kids. How are we responsible enough to have children?

  Wallace is in a daze. “Wow. This is a lot to take in. Did he tell you that he’s been talking to Ben about working together to design and rehab houses? Ben says he’s already bought a house.”

  “I knew he talked to Ben. I didn’t know he bought a house. Do you think he’s serious about all of this?”

  Again, they both stare at me and say in unison, “Yes.”

  “Well, shit. That is a lot to take in.”

  Julia interrupts. “We are not going to sit here and worry about this. This is good news. This is fucking great news.

  Wallace muses, “Now that he’s shared this picture, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask for the whole story. If he wants to marry you, he owes you the truth.”

  “That means I have to tell him everything, too.”

  Wallace winces, “Yeah, that part is going to suck.”

  She hands me back my phone. “Text him right now and tell him you need to talk.”

  “Shouldn’t I wait for him?”

  “You’ve waited long enough. Do it.”

  “Okay, okay.” I type out a text and press send. “We’ll see what he says.”

  We start walking down King Street towards the boutique. Wallace hugs us both and says her good-byes. Just then, my phone chirps.

  She whirls around. “What did he say?” she demands.

  “He’s coming over tonight.”

  She hugs me again. “You can do this. Show Jack you're ready. That is unless you don't want to be with him?”

  “I guess I’ll know after we talk. I think I do, but I need answers.”

  “Yes, you do. Don’t let him distract you again.”

  I laugh at that. “Yes, ma'am. I'll do my best. Jack's awfully persuasive, though.”

  “Be strong. Sex can wait until after you talk.”

  Julia, our newly minted sex fiend, raises an eyebrow at me, her crimson red lips fighting a smile. I know what she’s thinking.

  Wallace glares at her. “I see you. Don’t be a bad influence, woman.”

  Julia grins and rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. Wallace is right. Talk first. Then sex.”

  I don't believe her for a second, and neither does Wallace. She tells me, “Do not listen to this woman. She is hormonal and under a powerful sex spell.

  “Now go sell thousands of dollars' worth of clothes and don't give it another thought until tonight. And I want all the details tomorrow.” She kisses me, points her finger at Julia, who does look like she's under a sex spell, and strides down the street.

  I open up the shop and take on the role of responsible boutique owner.

  Within moments, frantic last minute shoppers pack the boutique. Thank god, for Cecilia.

  I set up a dressing room for Julia and pull the rack of clothes over to her. “Even if you think you won’t like it, try it. You never know. I'm sorry I can’t play. Promise you'll put on a fashion show for me. The three-way mirror is out here, and I'll be looking out for you. Besides, if you put on a show, another customer will grab up anything you reject. You make everything look good.”

  “Don't worry about me. I'll have fun playing dress-up, and I'll be sure to catch your attention. Thank you for setting this up for me.”

  Julia kisses my cheek and heads into the dressing room.

  I scurry around the shop and help customers find outfits for themselves and last minute gifts. I hear a woman call my name, excuse myself, and turn to see Jack's mother before me.

  “Mrs. Cliff.” I hug her and kiss her cheek. “It’s wonderful to see you. Thank you for stopping in. What can I help you find?”

  “Darling, Annabelle. You look beautiful, as always. When are you going to start calling me Allison?”

  “I’m sorry Mrs., I mean Allison. You know how Mama reared me.”

  She laughs, “I do know. Sometimes I feel like I should call her Mrs. Tucker, and she’s my best friend.

  “But please, Sweetheart. You’re family. I’m Allison to you. Or, as a little birdie told me, maybe you should start calling me Mom.”

  I can’t help but grin. “Really? That’s a chatty little bird you have.”

  Her face turns serious. “You need to know how sorry we all are. Jack has been furious with us. We never meant to hurt you. We never should have kept his letters from you.” Her eyes tear up. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. We love you so much. We’ve wanted this for you both since you played in the kiddie pool.”

  She caresses my cheek, and I start to tear up, too. I take a deep breath and blink them back.

  “I understand. I'm trying to understand. When Jack first left, I was a mess. I know you were all trying to protect me.

  “What hurts the most was he thought I turned my back on him. Never. He’s been my heart for ten years.” I try out her name. “Allison, I love him.”

  She hugs me tight. “I know, dear. He feels the same way, I promise you. Whatever has happened, the two of you have found each other again. We’re thrilled. Your mother and I are already thinking about ideas for the wedding.”

  “Oh, Lord. You two need to calm down. I can only imagine what you have up your sleeves.”

  She giggles. “Don’t worry about a thing. Let us have some fun.”

  “Are you here to shop or to terrorize me?” I tease.

  “Both,” she laughs. She kisses my cheek again and wanders off to look through the store.

  I turn my head and find Julia stepping out of the dressing room. She’s wearing the black sequined dress I picked out for her. It has a stretchy, low-cut, V-neck bodice and an Empire waist that flares out a bit so it isn’t too tight around her midriff or butt.

  “Julia. You must buy that dress,” I call out to her.

  Several customers turn to look. I hear one ask me, “Where can I find that? It’s gorgeous.” I point her in the direction of the cocktail dresses and head toward Julia.

  Julia is tugging at the hem. “Don’t you think it’s a little short? Maybe I need a bigger size? Look. I have cleavage.”

  “It is perfect. It hits right above the knee. I picked it because I knew it would be flattering. You look gorgeous. Stand up straight and see yourself. See how it flares out a bit? No sign of any baby bump. You are beautiful, sexy, and your ass and legs look phenomenal. Wear it with strappy, fun heels. Aren't you attending a New Year's Eve party at the gallery? This would be perfect.”

  “Peter is going to molest me in this dress.”

  “Peter molests you in flannel pjs. You’ll blow his mind in this.”

  “Good point. I’ll take it.” She hugs me and skips back into the dressing room.

  Who can resist a dress guaranteed to get you laid? I walk over to the cocktail dress section and help several customers look for similar dresses. Apparently, many women want holiday sex. I can't blame them. Every woman, every shape and size, deserves a dress that makes them feel desirable. I can only hope I get a new shipment the week between Christmas and New Year' Eve.

  Julia comes to the register with an armful of clothes. I make her promise to wear them, to rotate them into her uni
form of black.

  Even Jack's mother comes to the counter with a pile of elegant blouses, cardigans, and skirts. She has picked up the same velvet blazer my mother and Wallace bought. “I had to get it. Your mother and I will be twins. It's beautiful, and the fit is perfect.” She has chosen the dusty blue color that matches her eyes. Jack's eyes.

  “Thank you so much, Allison. You’ll both have to wear it for Christmas cocktail hour. Maybe I’ll pick up one for myself.

  “I’ve been wondering. What do you think Jack would like for Christmas? And Charlie?”

  “Sweet girl. You're thoughtful. Wait until you meet Charlie. He's a doll. Trust me. He doesn't need a thing. Books are always good. Look for those books that have thick, cardboard pages he can't tear.”

  I nod my head as if I have a clue to what she’s referring. Time to consult with Wallace. “That’s a great idea, thank you. Jack has always been tough on books,” I wink at her.

  Chuckling, she responds, “The only thing Jack wants or needs is you.”

  Today has been a great day. I feel loved. Friends and family surround me. Why did I ever feel alone?

  ***

  The shop finally closes for the day. It has been a madhouse. Cecelia and I are exhausted.

  She slumps on the counter. “Can you believe the amount of business you did today?”

  “How about I run down to Starbucks and pick up some coffees before we tackle cleaning up for tomorrow.”

  I hand her a twenty-dollar bill. “You are a goddess.”

  While she makes the coffee run, I step outside for a smoke. It’s chilly out, but it feels good to be outside the shop. I wrap a scarf around my neck and lean against the building.

  Of course, my thoughts immediately turn to Jack. We're meeting at my place in an hour. No sex until he talks. I can resist him. I am strong. After we share our secrets, sex may not be an option. I suspect it's going to be an emotional night. I'm scared. Then I remind myself of how loved I've felt today. No matter what happens I'm going to be okay.

  Cecelia returns, and I gratefully accept the coffee. She sees my cigarettes and asks, “May I have one?”