Broken (7 page)

Holy cannoli, what did I get myself into? I can’t remember the last time anyone had that kind of effect on me, on my body.  It was electrifying, amazingly erotic, waking every fiber in my entire being.  And I didn’t want him to stop; I wanted him to take me right there in front of the door, to ravish me until I no longer remembered my own name. 

I wash my flushed face with cold water but the warm feeling is still there. I’m trying to stay strong but my own body is betraying me.  I know I need to find something to occupy my time, otherwise I’ll end up knocking on his door again.  I walk into my office and turn on the laptop, pretending that I have some sort of plan already in mind.  When did I stop writing? Better yet, why did I stop? I stare at the blank screen and nothing comes to mind.  Nothing that I can put in writing.  My every thought goes to David.

Damn him and his ability to make me come undone with one simple touch.  I still feel his tender fingers, imprints like invisible tattoos, forever part of me.  After a while, it’s obvious that nothing will get done today.  I’m better off going out for a drive or maybe even visiting my mom.  With that in mind, I feel a whole lot better.  I change quickly and grab my bag and keys. 

I make a quick stop by Mike’s Pastries and grab a couple of éclairs and a few warm croissants then take the long route to my mom’s.  The warm pastry smell filling my car is making my mouth water, and I’m tempted to pull over and indulge in one of the sugary concoctions.  As I get closer to the house, I notice mom’s car is missing from the driveway and suddenly remember that she goes to church on Sundays. I park and walk towards the back to look for the extra key she likes to hide under the little rose pot.  Score! At least some things never change.  As I walk back towards the front, someone calls my name.

“JayJay?”  I can’t remember the last time I heard my high school nickname.  “Oh my gosh, is that you girl?”  The excited voice is coming from a very tall, very athletic woman, about the same age as me, and it takes me a few seconds to recognize her.

“Shelly?”

“Girl come here, oh my gosh.” She grabs me by the shoulders and hugs me tightly.  “I was just talking to your mama about you the other day.  How are you?  You haven’t changed a bit.”  Shelly and I pretty much grew up together.  We were never best friends or anything, but since we were neighbors and went to the same school, we knew everything there was to know about one another. She was like the distant family member that you knew you had but didn’t bother to keep in touch with unless you had to.  The last time I saw her she was on her way to college somewhere in Michigan or Chicago; I couldn’t remember too well.  “Do you have a minute?  Come on over, I know my mom would love to see you.”

This is exactly the distraction I need
, I think to myself. “Sure, let me just grab something from the car.”  I take my bag and one of the boxes of pastries and follow her to her house.  She loops her arm through mine, a smile big on her face. 

“I can’t even tell you how happy I am to see you.”  I smile back and prepare myself to be bombarded with questions and hugs and more questions.  Her mom is the most loving woman I’ve ever met, always feeding the entire neighborhood. The same cannot be said about her dad.  For as long as I can remember, he had a drinking problem, always yelling about one thing or another.  I could never understand why she didn’t just leave him, and she would always make excuses for him. 

We walk inside and I’m instantly hit with the smell of garlic and herbs.  Nora, Shelly’s mom, has always been known for her cooking, and I guess she was still at it.  I follow Shelly into the kitchen and sure thing, her mom is stirring something on the stove. 

“Look what I found outside,” Shelly says in a singing voice.  The moment she turns around, Nora’s face lights up as she recognizes me.

“Oh honey, how are you sweetheart?”  I give her a hug and I feel overwhelmed by their welcome.  “Did you eat?  The sauce is almost done and I made some fresh linguini.  Come, sit, sit.  How have you been?”  Shelly brings out some glasses and a bottle of wine and takes the seat across from me. 

I almost forgot how easy it is to be around them.  When we were in high school, we often got together at Shelly’s house, and her mom was always ready to feed us all. 

“Girl your mom told me all about your traveling.  Lucky biatch.  I wish my job sent me to Europe for five years. It had to be the best thing for you after losing Sam.”  Hearing his name feels like a pinch to my heart, an unexplainable pain that just won’t go away.

“What?”

“Oh come on.  You don’t need to play coy with me.  I went over your house a couple of months ago and was talking to you mom.  She happened to mention something about Europe.  When did you get back?”  I try to figure out what exactly she’s talking about and then it clicks.  My mom had lied for me, not sure if it was out of shame or just as a cover up. I probably would’ve done the same if my daughter tried to kill herself over and over again unsuccessfully.   

“Oh.  It was…. Ok, I guess.”

“Just ok?  God, I wish I had that luxury.  It’s on my bucket list.” I just nod and thank my lucky star that she’s not pressing me for answers.

“What’s new with you, Shelly?  Last time we spoke you were moving away, I believe?”

“Yeah, I did for a while.  I moved to Chicago, got married, got divorced, and moved back home. Story of my life.”

“Oh no, what happened?” Of all the stupid questions, that’s the best I could come up with?

“He didn’t want to grow up, and I just didn’t want to be married to a child.  I wanted a partner to grow old with and unfortunately he wasn’t it.”

“He was a loser, that’s what he was,” her mom says finally.  She fills up large bowls of pasta and sauce and brings them to the table.  “Enough with the questions.  Eat.  You both look like you just returned from a concentration camp.
Skin and bones.  You’ll never find a man looking that skinny.”  Both Shelly and I look at the outrageous amount of food placed in front of us.  Forget gaining weight, I’ll just pass out from a carb coma. We know better than to argue with Nora so we start eating. 

“You don’t sound too upset about it.”

“I’m not anymore.  We were too young and rushed into it.  I should’ve listen to mama but you know how stubborn I was whenever I wanted something.  And I wanted him.” Her laugh is contagious, and I almost forget about all my pain.

“Jen, I’m sorry about Sam
,” she says finally.  “It’s good that you had your job to keep your mind off of everything.”

“Thank you.”  We’re all quiet for a while, the clicking of our silverware the only sound around us. 

After what feels like forever, I decided to find some safe territory that we can all feel comfortable with so I ask about her brother.

“Lucas is good.  Remember Maria? 
The one with big boobs?  They were dating in high school.”  Of course, I remember her.  Everyone knew Maria, and by that, I mean everyone.  But I’m not about to tell Shelly that. “They got married three years ago and have twins.  Can you imagine my brother as a dad?”

Lucas was two years older than
we were and really good looking—at least he was back in high school.  He was also the first boy I kissed, and from what I remember, he was really good at it.  He was good pretty much at everything from sports to academics.  But like his dad, he had a love hate relationship with anything with alcohol.  The fact that he ended up with someone like Maria makes me wonder if he was still drinking.

“Oh wow.  I can’t say I’m not surprised because I really am.  I mean Maria?  I didn’t see that coming.”

“We didn’t either.  But she got him to stop drinking and they seem very happy.  I think the kids really changed both of them.”  I’m sure they did, as kids usually do. 

I stuff myself until there’s no more breathing room in my pants,
then Nora shushes us out of the kitchen.  We moved into the living room, and Shelly refills our wine glasses.  I feel so relaxed and ready for a nap.  The room is just exactly as I remember it, down to the handmade blanket covering the big sofa.  I get comfortable against the soft cushion and take it all in.  So many memories in this place, and all happy ones too. 

“Why did we not keep in touch girl?” I’m not sure she’s asking me or just saying it out loud to herself. 

“Listen Shelly, I need to tell you something.”

“Sure, anything.
  What’s wrong?”

“I did not go to Europe.”

“I don’t understand,” she says after a while.

“When Sam died, I kind of, well how do I say this?  I was not myself and I did some bad things that I’m not too proud of. 
Things that hurt my mom.  I guess that’s why she lied to you guys.”

“Did you go to prison?”  She’s
so serious as she’s asking me the question that I can’t help but laugh. 

“Not that bad.  What the hell.  You’re too much girl; you haven’t changed a bit. 
As funny, crazy, and lovable as always.”

“Yeah, yeah.
  Cut the crap and tell me, what did you do?”

“I tried to kill myself.”

“Come on, be serious now.  What was it?” She’s still laughing waiting for me to give the punch line to my joke.  She doesn’t believe me.  When I fail to respond she simply watches me, and I can see the smile slowly fading from her face.  “Holy shit.  You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.
  I kind of lost my head for a while and the pain was too much to take.  I didn’t care if I was hurting my mom or anyone else.  I only thought of Sam.”  Her eyes are starting to mist and she moves closer to me on the sofa until her hands can reach mine. 

“Oh honey, I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like for you.” 

“To tell you the truth, I’m still not ok, Shelly.  I am falling apart, each day a little piece of me dries and falls to the ground.  But I am working on getting better.  I really am.”

We’re both crying now, and I hate myself for being weak but I can’t help it.  Maybe if I keep saying the words out loud, eventually it will sink in and I’ll find the courage to start over. 

Nora walks in with a tray filled with éclairs and coffee.

“What’s going on?” she asks worried.

“Nothing Mom.  You know how emotional I get when I talk about my past and before I knew it, I made her cry too.  But we’re ok, right Jen?”  She winks at me and smiles behind heavily wet lashes. 

“You know better.  Here, have some dessert.  Jen, honey, I have to go but it was so good seeing you again.  I hope you’ll stop by more often.” 

“Ma, where you going?”

“Going to visit with your pa for a little while.
You guys behave now.”  She gives me one last hug and disappears into the hallway. 

“Your dad moved?” I ask Shelly curiously.

“No girl. He passed two years ago. Come on, let’s have some of those scrumptious goodies you brought and see if we can add some fat to our bones.  Maybe that will help me find a man.”

I spend the rest of the day in Shelly’s company, amazed at the obstacles she had to overcome.  She’s strong, happy, smiling, and so amazing to be around.  Right before we say goodbye, she makes me promise to sign up for some social media page,
facepage or face-something, so we can keep “tabs” on each other.  I walk out of her house feeling strangely happy.

My mom is already home, and I manage to scare the living daylights out of her as I unlock the front door.

“Sweet mother,” she yells when I walk into the house.  “Where did you come from?”

“Good seeing you too, Mom.  You didn’t see my car parked out front?”

“No I haven’t.” She tries to sound upset but hugs me tightly the moment I put my arms around her.  “Were you in the car this whole time?”

“No, actually, I just had me a little visit with Shelly and her mom.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and you won’t believe how much fun I had telling them about my trip to Europe.” Her eyes grow bigger and bigger and her mouth forms into an itty bitty thin line.  It’s so quiet you could probably hear the crickets in the background. 

“Now, honey, I can explain.” She looks so adorable when she’s nervous and my heart hurts for all these years I missed.

“It’s ok.  I know why you did it.  I do wish you would’ve told me about her dad. I also know why you didn’t.”  She opens the box of no longer warm croissants and gives me a smile. 

“They smell divine, and I bet they taste even better with some chocolate crème inside.”

“Oh no, I don’t even want to hear the word food for at least another month.”  My stomach hurts just thinking about it. 

“Nora fed you, didn’t she? Come on then, let’s go lie down and catch up.  I hope you’re not tired since I got so much to tell you. You won’t believe the things you hear about in church.”

I don’t remember falling asleep but when morning comes, I’m still in my mother’s bed covered with my old comforter.  The smell of food and fresh coffee is filtering through the small door opening.  I yawn and stretch for a long time, feeling lazy and too comfortable to get out of bed.  I find her in front of the stove dropping small rounds of batter onto the hot grill.

“Morning, Mom.”

“Oh my goodness, will you stop sneaking up on me like that?”  She swats me with the kitchen towel and pushes me out of her way. With fresh hot coffee in hand, I sit at the table and pretend to be reading the newspaper.

“So Mom, I think I’m going to go out with David.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Did I say that out loud?” I laugh lightly. Now that it’s all out in the open, I am feeling a little conscious about it.  “Come on Mom, you heard me.”

“I did.  I just wanted to hear it again. 
Honey that’s wonderful.  And about time, if I say so myself.” 

“Yeah well, I hope I don’t screw it all up.  It’s not like I’m an expert on dating or anything.” 

“You’ll figure it all.  Dating, marriage, kids, nothing comes with a manual.  You just take it a day at a time and learn from one another.  Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” 

As soon as we’re finished and the table is cleared, we move into the warm living room.  I’m not sure if I’m ready to drive home yet as the snow covered streets make me want to stay inside in front of the fireplace with a good book in hand.  Mom is knitting me yet another hat, this one pink with little daisies around the border. Not something a woman my age would wear, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that.  I will probably end up wearing it to just to see her smile. These days I would do pretty much anything to see that smile light up her face. I get comfortable in the big chair and turn on my reader.  The lines look blurry and no matter how I try to get into it, my mind keeps racing back to David. It felt so good being in his arms, being in his presence, hearing him say my name.  I missed having a man call my name with such need and knowing I had the power to make him want me made me feel strangely excited.  I wanted to believe that he was thinking about me as much as I was about him. 

Shelly’s words about the facebook thingy make me wonder if he has an account too.

“Mom, do you still have my old laptop?”

“You know I do.  It’s in your old room.  Honestly, I don’t know why you left it here since I don’t know how to work that thing.” 

I almost run to my room
. It takes me a while to find the laptop and its cable, but once I have it all set up I wait excitedly for it to turn on. 
Please work
, I pray.  It’s an old thing but eventually it comes alive, and I am able to log onto the internet.  Another few minutes later, I find the said page and take the few steps to open up an account.  I’m shocked at the amount of information they ask, but thankfully, not all of it is mandatory. 

I search for Shelly’s name and find her quickly.  She has over two thousand friends. 
Holy crap.  How can anyone have that many friends?  I mean, there’s no way in hell she could possibly know all of them, right?  Ok, maybe I’ve been in my cave for way too long and maybe there are people out there with overactive social skills. 

Next
, I type David’s name and I find that my fingers are shaking.  I laugh at my silliness; I mean it’s not like he’ll know I’m searching for his name; at least I hope not. And there he is.  His beautiful face filling out perfectly the square assigned for his profile picture.  He really is beautiful in a very Adonis kind of way. His black hair in contrast with his porcelain white skin makes him look like a Photoshop creation.  I know better though.  I’ve touched that hair and had my face against his skin.  It’s all real. 

There are several photo albums but I’m not able to see any of the pictures.  Eventually I figure out that I need to be his “friend” in order to have access to all that extra information, so before I lose my nerve, I click on the friend request button.  I’m not sure why I’m so nervous, it’s not as if something will pop out of the small screen and bite me.   Just as I’m about to log off, there’s a small sound coming from the computer and a tiny screen opens in the lower bottom corner of the page. His name is big and bold right on top of it.  Oh My God!!!

“so you want to be my friend ay?”

I read the few words over and over unable to move.

              “come on Jenny.  Talk to me.”

             
“hi. Sorry I’m new at this whole thing.”

             
“Where are you?”

             
“my mom’s”

             
“so do you want to be my friend?”

             
“are you laughing at me?”

“
no, just wondering.  Because I sure want to be your
friend
.”

I feel my face getting hotter and a warm feeling moves down my body, making me squirm in my chair.  How is he doing all this to me without even being in the same room? 

              “when are you coming home?”

             
“tonight I think.  Why, miss me already?” 

             
“always. I want you to go with us tree hunting.”

             
“sorry, say what?”

             
“we need a Christmas tree and Lily wants you to go with us.”

             
“Lily does”

             
“yes she does and so do I”

             
“I can’t say no to her so I guess I’ll go”

             
“ok
friend
. It’s time for Lily’s lunch but I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight”

He’s gone before I can tell him anything else.  His pushiness is something that I hate and love at the same time, and reading the short conversation we just had makes me smile a little. I turn off the laptop and decide that maybe it’s time to head home after all.  Mom is still knitting and doesn’t even look up when I enter the room. 

“Mom, I think I’m going to go home.”

“So soon?
  Ok, honey.  I’m so happy you came over.  I miss having you here, you know.”

“I know, Mom.  I promise I’ll stop by more often.”  We say our goodbyes and she hugs me tightly, not willing to let go.  As I back up the car, she’s still waving goodbye from the front door. It hurts me leaving her all alone, but I know it’s for the best. I wasn’t the most excellent roommate to live with, so I’m sure she’s happy to have the house all to herself.  

I drive slower than usual as the roads are covered with fresh snow, while singing along to the radio.  The Christmas songs remind me just how much I used to love this time of year.  I have literally hundreds of ornaments stored away in boxes, some from when I was a kid and many I’ve collected over the years.  There’s even a plastic tree I bought right before I got married, because Sam was allergic to the real ones.  We used to spend an entire day decorating our little apartment, covering every window with lights.  It was our winter wonderland. 

Little by little happy memories are starting to surface, and I wish I didn’t wait this long to remember them.  I’m still smiling when I drive up my street, thinking of my last Christmas with Sam.  I park the car inside the garage and walk into the freezing cold house.  Not leaving the heat on was a bad move on my part, and I know it will take forever for the place to warm up.  I set the temperature and, still wearing my coat
; I walk into the kitchen and look outside towards David’s house.  Without thinking too much about it, I grab my keys and walk out into the freezing cold.  I almost run to his place, a feeling of excitement building up inside.  He opens the door before I have a chance to knock, causing me to topple forward.

“How did you-” His arms are already around me, helping me regain my balance.

“I was watching your house.” There’s humor in his dark eyes.

“Watching my house?  Wow.  And here I thought you were a stalker, but I guess you’re just weird.”

“Weird?  Do you do weird?”  I try so hard not to laugh at his choice of words. 

“Are you kidding me?  Weird is my favorite kind.”

“Then I’m one hundred percent weird, my friend.”  His fingers touch mine, sending all kinds of heat through my body. “My God you’re freezing.  Are you planning on coming in or are you trying to become a human Popsicle? If you’re going for the Popsicle thing, you know that the best way to warm you up is to get you naked.” I know he’s joking and yet his words are making me feel all funny inside.  When I fail to speak, he pulls me inside, walking backwards towards the kitchen.  The change in temperature instantly warms my frozen face and ears, and I’m glad I made the decision to come to his place.

“I guess we’ll leave the whole frozen experience for another time.”  This time I can’t hold my laughter, but he immediately touches my lips with his warm fingers.  “
Shhh, Lily’s asleep.  Here, let me take your coat. You get next to the heater before you get sick.”  I do as I’m told, a silly smile still present all over my face.  He’s taking care of me, and I realize that maybe that’s not such a bad thing.   

“If you’re going to keep flirting with me, I think you can at least offer me a cup of coffee first.”  I watch him as pours coffee in two big cups, handing me one that says “Big Bubba” on it. 
“Really?” I ask pointing at the writing on the cup. “Is there a story behind this?”

“No,” he laughs. “I got it for free.  What?  It’s not that bad.”

Our fingers meet for just a fraction of a second, but that’s enough to ignite the fire within me.  What in the world is wrong with my body, betraying me like that?