Unspoken

Have you ever had that feeling when a familiar smell or taste brings you back to a specific time and place of your life? Well, for me it was his. Out of all the bakeries in the Hamptons he’d chosen my bakery. Jackson Bardwell was sitting at my bakery and every single cell of my body knew it. My heart reacted and my eyes looked for him the minute he sat down at the table far back at the corner. I hid behind the kitchen wall, took a couple of breaths and sneaked a second look in his direction. There they were, the same disheveled dark brown hair and stubble of 5 days that haunted me during years.

“C’mon Marion, you are stronger and wiser,” I said to myself as I tied a black apron to my waist. Why did Alexa’s kid have to get sick today? She would’ve taken my place and I would never ever have to see him again. I took a deep breath and walked out to take his order.

“Hello, Jackson,” I said with confidence. At least I thought I sounded confident. He had his head on his hands; he seemed worried. I kicked myself mentally for knowing all his little tells still. He looked up confused that someone was using his name.

“Marion Galloway,” he said with recognition on his black eyes. He almost smiled and I couldn’t help but smile back. “How are you?” he got up and hugged me. Yep, he took me back to a time where I was naïve and stupid; a time filled with adventure and new things. I hugged him back a bit longer than necessary but only because he still smelled of carelessness and fun.

“I’m fine,” I shrugged and saw him sit back down.

“You work here?” he asked looking around at the bakery. I shook my head.

“I own the place,” I smiled with pride.

“You made it,” he seemed genuinely happy for me.

“Kind of,” I look around a bit, “I’m still short on staff but I am getting there.”

“You made it,” he repeated in a whisper and looked down at his hands. He seemed off. His hair was all over the place like I remembered but he was wearing a suit. He seemed as if he had been wandering around for days.

“Are you ok, Jackson?” I asked putting my hand on his shoulder. He looked up and smiled.

“I should’ve stayed here… with you Mar” I decided to ignore the way my heart beat faster for a few seconds.

“What for?” I smiled jokingly “You would’ve been in the back chopping tomatoes” he nodded and looked down again.

“What can I get you, then? Coffee? Cake?” I took my pad to scribble down whatever he had to say.

“Do you bake any of the stuff in here?” he asked looking up again.

“Everything you see,” I grinned happy that he remembered I could bake.

“Muffins?” he asked straightening himself on the chair.

“Blueberry, Banana, Carrot and Espresso,” I said, looking at the today’s muffin menu that was in the wall just above the coffee station.

“Espresso, definitely espresso,” he grinned and I wrote down his choice.

“Drink?” I asked smiling.

“Surprise me,” he said covering his chin with his hand.

“Surprise drink and muffin coming up,” I said and turned around to the tiny kitchen in the back of the bakery where I spent most of my days. I leaned against the wall and took 3 or 300 deep breaths. Jackson Bardwell was my everything 8 years before but he never felt the same way about me. We had this sexual chemistry that could light on the bonfires in the summer and we got along perfectly but we never went further than that, a friendship with lots of sex. Life got in the way and he never came back for the summers. I stayed back living off my trust fund and trying to make my dream of having my own bakery come true. I still thought about him from time to time. What we had was specia,l even if it had no labels, and now he was right there in front of me with all his glorious handsomeness and remembering tiny details of someone he used to know. I sighed, grabbed a tiny plate for the muffin and out I went to the counter where I warmed up the muffin while taking quick glances towards him. He definitely seemed worried and I could tell he was a bit emotional by the way he ran his hand through his hair; maybe that’s why the hair was all over the place. I prepared his drink and took it to him.

“Espresso muffin and a peach shake,” I said placing them in front of him. He smiled a very weak smile. “The shake is for the worry that is eating you away,” I said and he looked up and shook his head.

“You still know me, Mar,” He took a sip from the shake and nodded, “and you still rock at everything you cook. Please sit with me for a while” he said motioning his hand to the chair in front of him.

“What’s wrong, Jackson?” I asked placing my elbows on the table and putting my chin on my hands. He only shook his head and took a bite off the muffin.

“Ok, then, why are you back?” he looked up and shook his head again. “C’mon, you have to give me something, anything,” I said smiling and he took another bite of the muffin.

“I’m running away,” he said once he swallowed the muffin.

“From?” I asked.

“Life,” he said and finished the last of his muffin. “Are you happy, Mar?” he asked and I had to think about what he was asking. Was I?

“I’m content with my life,” I shrugged. “Happiness is something that passes by too quickly, I think,” he nodded “You?” he looked up to me.

“No, I’m not happy nor content.” He took a sip of his shake, “I have no idea what that is.”

“That’s what you are escaping from then?” I asked and he nodded.

“I doubt you are going to find that in the Hamptons,” I said taking the empty plate and glass.

“You found it, didn’t you?” he asked hopeful. I shrugged.

“I worked for it, I guess,” I said looking out the window. It was almost closing time.

“You deserve it, that’s why you found it,” he said standing up and handing me a bill.

“It’s on the house,” I said smiling up at him. I almost had forgotten how tall he was.

“Take care, Marion Galloway,” he said and turned to walk to the door.

“Goodbye, Jackson,” I said with a sigh as I saw him walk down the street through the bakery window.

Seventeen.

I met Jackson when I was 17 through my best friend’s older brother, Connor. It was summer and he was back from college and Alexa had blackmailed him into taking us to a club, any club, it didn’t matter; we wanted to go out and have fun. I had no idea what Alexa had on Connor but it was bad enough to take us along, a pair of high school girls, to a club where he would meet his college buddies. I had been completely nervous over the outfit I would wear and had spent the entire afternoon at Alexa’s home trying out different options. In the end I went with an embroidered yellow mini dress with some animal print ballet flats because Connor said that we weren’t going to an actual club but to some kind of bar. Whatever the difference that made he said my outfit was ok for the night. Connor was a nice guy and I had known him my entire life so I trusted him fully. Outfit wise or any other wise. I was excited to be out in the world with “adults”, but I also felt a bit stupid because, really, what were we going to do in a place full of older guys. I bet $20 to Alexa that we would get bored soon.

When we got there I realized the difference between a club and a bar. This bar was kind of dingy and I was surprised that Connor had chosen a place that had nothing to do with the Hamptons lifestyle; it even crossed my mind that he was so embarrassed of us that he decided to take us to a place where he wouldn’t bump into anyone he knew. I didn’t care; I just wanted to have fun. Alexa and me, we weren’t nerds or anything; we had our amount of popularity but we got bored of the same scene every weekend so whenever Connor was in town we took advantage of it.

“C’mon, girls,” said Connor, jumping down from his convertible that had horribly messed with my hair and now it was a big tangled mess of red waves.

“Wait,” I said, stopping for a second to run my fingers through my hair. I heard Connor laughed and Alexa telling him that convertibles weren’t for girls. After some attempts to untangle my hair, which I had carefully conditioned, I let it be and hoped that the bar would be so damn dark that no one would notice.

We walked up to the bar and stood outside the front door while Connor had a talk with the bouncer and it wasn’t until that moment that I realized that he had brought us to the one bar that would allow underage kids in. I was touched because I knew he had chosen the place to let her sister have a good time. Any other guy would go with the “oops, see you at home” attitude.

“In you go,” he said letting us go inside. I was relieved to realize that my hair wouldn’t be a problem since the place was dark as a cave; I could barely see some tables and the bar. It was a tiny bar but it was packed. Connor wouldn’t take us to a dangerous place and he wouldn’t go out to a lame bar so I was confident it would be ok-ish.

“So exciting, uh?” said Alexa next to me. I knew she was already looking for hot guys. Her hormones were so out of control. I always wondered where my hormones were because never in my 17 years had I felt a burning attraction towards someone. I liked guys, I went out on dates, I’d had boyfriends of 2 or 3 months but I’ve never met the guy that made me think only of sex. Seemed that every guy Alexa met was made up of sex atoms or something like that.

“Connor,” I heard someone calling his name from the top of the stairs, I looked up and I saw him. It was some guy waving and screaming Connor’s name, and he caught my eye. As I said the club was really dark but I could clearly see him. I am not kidding; it was like some kind of halo shone down on him because I couldn’t see anything but him. He was a faceless stranger that I knew would change my life.

When we got to the table with Connor’s friends, we realized it wasn’t big enough so we moved to a bigger table with more chairs and I ended up sitting next to him. I didn’t make that happen, it just did. The halo of light was moving towards me and then sitting next to me.

I was shocked that I ended up sitting next to the guy and that Alexa had run immediately to get something to drink and had left me alone. “Hey,” I heard him say. I almost threw up because I was so nervous. It took me a little longer than what seemed normal to answer back because I was trying really hard to make out his features in the darkness.

“Hi,” I said trying to smile. I probably looked like some kind of lunatic. He moved closer and I finally could see his eyes, dark like chocolate. I just wanted to eat them in a bite. What?

“Jackson,” he said stretching his hand.

“Marion,” I shook his hand.

“Are you Connor’s sister?” he asked really serious.

“No, I’m her sister’s best friend,” I said laughing.

“Good,” he nodded. What did that mean?

“Beer?” He showed me the bottle he had in one hand.

“Thank you,” I took a sip of the bottle he offered.

“How old are you, Marion?” he asked passing his hand around my shoulders.

“17,” I blushed, but I didn’t care because I knew that he wouldn’t tell. “You?” I asked.

“20,” I nodded.

“College?” I asked after giving another sip to his beer then handing it back.

“Yes. Pre-law,” he scrunched up his nose.

“That’s what you want to be…a lawyer?” I was curious.

“I guess,” he shrugged and took a sip of his beer and asked, “What about you?”

“I’m not going to college,” I said, pretty sure of myself.

“Is that so?” he asked with half a smile. His hair was all over the place and I wanted to reach and run my fingers through it.

“Yep,” I smiled back at his half smile.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he leaned in closer to me.

“Bake it all away” I smiled and he grinned.

“Would you teach me how?” he asked and I nodded.

“I’m here, I’m here,” said Alexa as she rushed inside the bakery at 7 sharp. I had been there since 5, as usual, baking whatever we were having on the menu. “Had to wait for the nanny.” she said, smiling apologetically while she put her blonde hair up and tied the black apron around her waist. I was thankful that I wasn’t going to be up front because I hated it. Alexa was all about people, I just wanted to bake.

“Was yesterday horrible?” she asked as she began grabbing napkin holders to place on the few tables we had.

“Yes,” I said, shaking my head, “no, not really,” I said while finishing the last batch of peanut butter muffins.

“What happened?” she asked as she came back from placing the tables.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t want to get into the Jackson subject. I knew what she would say.
You need to focus on something that’s not him, Marion.
She always said that when it came to Jackson, but the truth was that I did need to focus on something else that wasn’t him because I usually lost sight of whatever I had in front of me when he came into the picture.

“Nothing? That’s why we are offering 3 extra sweet muffins and one salty one?” she asked eyeing the batches that I’d placed on the ready-to-go table in the kitchen.

“Jackson was here,” I said turned around really quick and grabbed onto the edge of the sink.

“Jackson?” she whispered as if saying his name would awake something. It might, though.

“Yes,” I shook my head to clear my thoughts and cleaned my hands on a cloth that I had in my baking apron, (I had an apron for every occasion). “Here,” I said, giving her the menu written on a pad for her to transcribe on the board outside.