#Jerk (29 page)

“At the rate I’m going…I may need to buy one, too.”

I take a sip of water as the waiter places the nachos in front of us.
My weakness,
and today, I ignore my attempt to get back in shape; I eat like it’s my last meal on Earth. The gym can wait…
again.

“I saw the Jerk yesterday. He came into the office in the morning to grab his laptop.”

“That’s nice,” I say without any emotion.

“Well, what I saw wasn’t nice. He looked like a wreck, Pres. I mean, a scruffy-looking hairy man who probably hasn’t seen a mirror or a razor in a while. He rivaled Bigfoot.”

“Maybe that’s the look he wants at his wedding.”

She sighs. “You’re not helping me here.”

“Helping you do what?”

“He looks like shit because he misses you, Presley. And he knows he is a jerk and said jerk-like things to you. I don’t know why he is marrying her if he loves you. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“He doesn’t love me. End of story. Now can we please talk about something else?”

I bite down on a corn chip, avoiding Vicky’s penetrating gaze. She knows me well enough to know this is a sore subject. She can tell, not only because I’m avoiding making eye contact, but also cause I do that nervous twirl of my hair around my finger thing and constantly tap my foot against the floor.

I swiftly change subjects. “So I’ve lined up a part time job at the Lantern House in L.A. I’ll be working four days a week. Three days in the office and one day from home. Luckily Gemma works from home as a graphic designer, so she jumped at the chance to take care of Masen till he’s old enough to go to daycare.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out. Just like the old Presley,” Vicky says with her eyebrows raised.

Taken aback by her tone and comment, I place my fork down and wipe my mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that nothing’s changed. Yes, you’ve had a baby, but you’ve turned back into Miss Plan-My-Whole-Life-Out Presley. It was fun being around you when you stopped giving a shit and just lived for the moment. The Jerk changed you in ways you haven’t bothered to notice.”

“Well, not giving a shit and living for the moment ends up with a broken heart. I’m sick of this. I just want to go live my life without all the drama.”

“What about me?” she pouts jokingly.

“What about you?”

“Will you miss my drama?”

I laugh and lean over to squeeze her perfectly manicured hand. “That’s the only thing I’ll miss. You and Kate with your constant man-drama. I’m going to have to take up watching soap
operas
just to get my fill.”

“I love you, Pres. Thank you for being my best friend. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you just around the corner.”

“Ditto.” I smile back. “Now stop moping, because you’re flying to visit me next weekend!”

“I’m excited! I’ve never been to L.A. and there’s so much I want to do.” She pulls out a piece of paper from her bag and places it in front of me. “So here is a list I made of things I want to do, time permitting.”

I hold my palm in front of her face. “Stop the presses. Vicky made a list?”

“Are you proud of me? Mama Presley taught me well.”

“So, you
can
teach an old dog new tricks?” I laugh.

We fall into a fit of laughter until the cute waiter returns with our lunch. Despite Vicky’s attempt to be organized, I’m not the least bit surprised when she follows the cute waiter back to the bar and asks him for his number.

I arrive back at the apartment and see that Liz hasn’t returned just yet. It is almost dark and I’m starting to worry about them. Not wanting to call Haden, I find Liz’s number in my cell and dial it immediately. It rings for a while before going to voicemail, only adding to my worry. I scroll through the contacts and land on Haden’s number. Just as I am about to hit the call button, a tap on the door startles me and I scramble to open it, glad to see Liz and Masen on the other side. I unbuckle Masen from his stroller and lift him into my arms. Bringing him up to my face, I smell his hair and my nerves are non-existent with my baby finally back in my arms.

“I’m sorry we’re late, sweetie. Haden just wanted some extra time with him.”

“He could have told me.”

“I know. He has a lot on his mind right now,” she defends him. “So listen, he asked me to give this to you.”

She hands me a piece of paper and I open it up to find a calendar for the next three months. My eyes divert to the boxes marked in red. In print it says “Eloise and Haden.”

“What’s this?” I ask, confused.

“Haden thought it was best to put together a schedule of when they could see Masen.”

“But…but…this is every other weekend…and it says New York?”

She puts the baby bag down and gracefully places her hand on mine. “Sweetie. It was bound to happen. If you’re moving to L.A. and Haden stays here, both of you will need to make the effort for Masen’s sake.”

“I can’t fly out to New York every other weekend!” I respond anxiously.

“Maybe Masen stays here for a week or Haden flies out. He didn’t get into the details with me.”

Masen be apart from me for a week?! Hell no! What the hell is running through his head? I’m angry, furious to be precise, and that whole thing about not letting my emotions get to me…well, fuck it! I tear the paper up in front of Liz, much to her shock.

“This is what I think of his stupid plan!”

Liz knows well enough to leave at this point. Kissing Masen for the last time, she waves goodbye, but not before telling me she’ll visit in a couple of weeks.

After my normal nightly routine, I put Masen to bed and head back to the living room to distract myself with mindless TV. It doesn’t work. I’ve channel-surfed for the past hour without settling on anything to watch. Kate arrives home and the second she does, I burst into tears. Not once does she tell me I’m wrong or making a mistake; she allows me to cry and let out my unresolved issues. Feeling bad that I soaked her shirt, I pull away, apologizing for being a wreck.

“You have every right to be. You love him and the Jerk’s marrying someone else. Plus, he puts together this stupid plan?”

“Why is he doing this? I don’t understand why he wants to take Masen away from me,” I sob.

“You need to talk to him, Presley. Clear the air and move on.”

“No. I don’t want to see him.” I stand up and head to the kitchen as Kate follows me. “He’s made his decision, Kate. He is marrying Eloise. He wants Eloise to be his wife. I’m taking Masen with me and moving to L.A. End of story.”

“If that’s what you want, Presley. Just remember that despite him marrying her, he is still Masen’s dad.”

Of course I know that. Masen looks exactly like him, even at this age. Every time I look at him I’m reminded of that. How can I cope with a lifetime of staring at my child’s face and being reminded of the man who so carelessly broke me to pieces? I have no plan for how to avoid that. That’s what makes it all the more difficult. No matter what you do, there’s no plan for curing a broken heart.

Saying goodbye isn’t too hard because the girls will come visit soon. It’s the cab ride to the airport that kills me. The radio is set on some ‘80s love song marathon. It’s easy to say I can just ignore it, but when Barry Manilow is belting out a tune, you better believe your heart aches along with him. When I was growing up, these songs were so corny, yet Mom and Dad would put them on and stare lovingly into each other’s eyes while singing out of key.

That was love. Married for almost forty years, and even with all their quirks, that love never faded. Mom once told me that she loved Dad more now than the day she married him. Forty fucking years.

Stuck in the usual traffic jam to the airport, the driver turns the dial up on the radio when Chicago’s “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” comes on. Blinking my eyes to stop the tears, I force myself to think about my mascara and how I don’t want panda eyes at the airport.
But I’m not that strong.

The cab driver actually asks me if everything is okay and I make up some lie about being homesick. Don’t need to get into the whole ‘the man I love got married today and I’m a pathetic single mom running away from all my problems’ story.

Song after song plays, and the more they sing about love, the more my mind wanders to today. Haden and Eloise are officially Husband and Wife right now. The vows to love each other for all eternity have been said and done. The shiny bands are sitting on their fingers, and right about now, they’re having their first dance as a married couple to some sappy song that probably played only moments ago in my cab.

I have shed so many tears over him. I’ve spent countless nights waking up in a cold sweat. If I’m ever to move on with my life, I need to grab that glue and start mending my heart. He may have torn it apart, but I’ll be damned if I’m the one suffering this lonely life all because of him. He can go ahead and be married, have a dozen babies for all I care. We both stood at that fork in the road and he went the opposite way.

Fate—you’ve laid out all the cards and I’ll take mine so you can leave me the fuck alone.

When street signs indicate that the airport is only a couple of minutes away, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. The driver pulls alongside the curb and hops out of the cab, opening the door for me. With Masen in his carrier, an attendant pushes a trolley my way, escorting me to the check-in desk with my suitcases.

The hustle and bustle of the airport distracts me. Streams of people lining up all heading to different destinations. There are plenty of business men standing in the first class line waiting impatiently to be served. The economy line is full of families and crying kids, all waiting to continue their journey. It takes longer than expected and by the time I’m served, I don’t have as much time as I originally set aside before having to board the flight. Shit. I don’t know how this happened; I scheduled everything and gave extra time for any incidentals like traffic or queues.

You dropped the ball, Presley. It’s what happens when you’re suffering from a broken heart.

Oh shut up, brain!

As I walk towards the gate, I see a line has already formed.
Just great.
I’m not sure if I have enough time to check Masen’s diaper and grab a bag of chips. I have barely eaten all day. Scanning the gate area for a spare seat to change Masen, my eyes move towards a man sitting on his lonesome near the entrance. With his head bent down, dressed in a black tux, he nervously plays with his wedding ring. How odd. As if someone would fly wearing a tux! It takes a moment for my brain to catch on but when it does, it’s like a strike of lightning followed by loud thunder. It hits me all in that one moment. That signature move, running his hands through his hair. Rubbing of his eyes beneath his black thick frames…

It can’t be.

You’re seeing things. You’re tired and delusional from the lack of sleep and food. You also possibly need your eyes checked for old age. Yeah, that’s it. Blame it on old age.

Yet I am drawn to this mysterious stranger. His behavior is odd and I’m surprised that airport security hasn’t detained him for being a suspicious weirdo. Oh god…what if he has a bomb?!

I’m walking slowly towards this madman, frightened for mine and Masen’s lives. What the fuck am I doing? Why is no one else helping me! The nervous rush running through my veins is making the blood in my heart pump so hard I’m certain everyone can see.

Then I stop.

A few steps away.

My heart stops, the beats barely existent as I stand on the spot, frozen. The blood drains from my face, and like I’ve seen a ghost, the noises around me fade into the distance. My stomach is nothing but a hollow pit, the walls caving in as the pain eats away at every part of me that has struggled to exist.

All because the man in the black tuxedo is my
jerk.

The man who has so carelessly stolen my heart.

I’m walking towards him like a zombie and somehow manage to place Masen’s carrier carefully on the ground beside me. With a dry throat, I’m unable to speak the words sitting on the tip of my tongue. The words that have run circles in my head, begging me to speak them out loud every second since he walked away that night. But my pride steps in, and straightening my posture, I try to act calm and cool, not wanting him to see how much he broke me.

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t say anything, and the announcement reminding everyone that final boarding is commencing sends everyone around us into a hurried pace. Yet Haden is sitting perfectly still. Head down, staring at the carpet, twisting his shining wedding ring around his finger.

He got married.
You saw the wedding ring earlier. Run now. Board that plane and never turn back. Don’t wait for him to shatter your heart even further, if that’s even possible.

“Did you know Britney Spears was married for less than twenty-four hours?” His tone is even, controlled, not a single whisper of any remorse.

Where is he going with this?

“Uh, yes I did…”

Silence.