by Katie George
Chapter Twenty-Four
WHEN I TOLD my father I was going to be a casting director (someday), he balked at the idea. He expected me to return to the Dallas area after college, secure a job as a banker or something relative to that, and be close to him. Yet I’d broken that idea completely when I met Sandra Dearington, a parent of a friend, who introduced me to what I wanted to be. So, when graduation came, I surprised Dad with news that shocked his world: I’m actually not coming home. I’m moving into an apartment in Glendora, and I’ve got a job lined up here. There was no point in giving him a heart attack with the fact of my living arrangements with Jamie, but it had hurt him that we still lived a thousand miles apart. His wife had left, and so had I. Yet I only seemed to be able to breathe away, and truth be told, my life was different now. My friends were in Los Angeles, as evidenced by six weddings in six months. Plus, I did not think I could live without Jamie, and the thought was completely off-kilter and somewhat eccentric, but he had been my anchor for a few years. Okay, maybe a wobbly anchor, but an anchor just the same.
So when he told me he was coming in for Thanksgiving, I choked at the idea. “Dad,” I whimpered, immediately freaking out, because Jamie got Thanksgiving off to come back to LA after months of cenote-exploring in Mexico. “Why don’t I come out for a long weekend?” Though honestly, I did not want to ask for another day off work.
“No,” he authoritatively said, his timbre über-masculine. Innately I decided Eric had told him Mom and I had begun a somewhat-relationship again. “I’m coming. I even bought a ticket for Eric and Cristina.”
“What? Why is Cristina coming? My apartment barely has enough room for a cat and a…” I caught myself in the midst of “two adults.”
“Honey, you’ve flown out home for years now. It’s time that I come visit you.”
Finally, I took the bait. “Is this because you heard Mom is out here? That she and I have somewhat reconnected?”
Dad sighed, and I knew I’d won the lottery here. “Would it be bad if I said part of me wants to see her? Just to know that she’s okay? She was the love of my life, Emma. She is the love of my life. I should have gotten over her, but it isn’t easy in the slightest. If you can get over a heartbreak, then it definitely was never meant to be. Yet your mother and I were always meant to be—at least from my perspective.”
“Dad,” I whispered, thinking that I had been transported back to the middle and high school days of pitting my parents against each other. Mom lives in New York, Dad. Mom, Dad is the one here with Eric and me. Where are you?
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother or burden you anymore, Emma. But I want to see that fella Jamie again. He’s hilarious.”
“He’s quite the goofiest creature ever.” Oh, yeah, Dad. He actually lives with me. So you might not want to pack a weapon when you visit. “Would you and Eric mind staying in a hotel?” The squeak of my voice was embarrassing. He should have caught the questioning in my tone, but he didn’t.
“Is your apartment that small?”
“It is Los Angeles,” I said, thinking about yurts and campers I’d seen people live in as an alternative to the apartment hunt in the city. But the truth was that the apartment was probably big enough for Eric, my dad, Cristina, and me. But factor in Jamie, and that was a whole other nightmare.
After hanging up with him and deciding I was the worst person in the world, I grabbed my keys and flew down to the nearest high school running track, where I ran my muscles to the breaking point like any idiot should not. Yet I put myself to the test, debating whether I should break down now or later. Most people would laugh at this predicament, but my father hated men. He was like a misogynist to his own breed. This was because he’d grown up around the roughest of men, and he was a loner anyhow. Therefore, Los Angeles was not his stomping ground. Eric enjoyed the California sunshine, but he was too much of a Texan at heart to ever leave, including the added factor of Cristina.
Once my body was done raggedly gulping air, I scrolled through my phone contacts and dialed Jamie’s number. I didn’t care if he would answer or not, so when his cheery voice sounded over the phone, I broke down crying. “We’ve got an issue.”
“What, my dear Emma? I’m literally rappelling down a tree right now. You should be here. The set designers killed it. The design overall is impeccable, with these giant spider-like things. I mean, this movie will have some CGI, but still.” Finally, he heard my nose spouting like a broken hose. “Emma?”
“I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”
“Well, I miss you too. Can I call you in a few hours so I can devote my entire attention to you?” He was obviously busy, and I didn’t even care if that was just an excuse. I agreed and lay on my back until the tears subsided and the sky above loomed over me like a canvas painted by the best artist in the whole universe.
When Jamie finally called back three hours later, his voice was ragged. “Hey, cariña, how you doing now? Dr. Stewart is here for you.”
“Well, it’s been a whole month since you’ve been gone, and it’s still hot as hell here. So, honestly, I’m praying for fall, so I get good weather and my best friend back.”
“I miss you, too. What’s really nagging at your core? I always thought you’re way too much of a thinker and worrier. Like, literally, you have the best friend in the world and all you do is complain.”
“Oh, Tennessee, I’m homesick. And Dad, Eric, and Cristina are coming in for Thanksgiving.”
Jamie paused, his breathing evident over the phone. “You never told him about our living arrangements, did you?” We even used the same terminology.
I looked at Jamie’s ring on my finger, at the sparkling thing, this immense token of friendship. “Nope.”
“That man terrifies me.”
“Yes. What are we going to do?”
“I’ll spend the week with one of my guy friends?”
“But it’s your only vacation, and…”
“What else will we do? Unless you explain to your father that you live with me, which is only going to cause a bloodbath. I can’t bleed anyhow; I need my perfect features spotless for when I return to filming.”
“The features that somehow slam into doors.”
“Emma, let’s see. We can die together, or you can die by yourself. I’m too lively to die. Therefore, I suggest that I will spend the week at a friend’s apartment, you spend a week with your family at ours. Plus, with the buck I’m making in these cenotes, I may be able to afford my own apartment when I get back.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s just a maybe, okay? You know, living with you has its perks, but I can’t bring anyone home, and I certainly can’t feel like a total man while living with a woman such as you.”
“Thanks. A lot.” Angrily I hung up, ignoring as he tried to call back and text repeatedly, so I stood up, finally texting him back, See you in November, before spouting off my own apology.
