Running Back to You (The Running Series, #1) (24 page)

I could call Reese.  She’s smart and always seems to know what the right
thing is to do.  But she’s in Wisconsin and it’s an hour earlier there.  It’s
way too early to call now.  Maybe later.

There is someone else I can reach out to.  I could talk with my mother. 
She moved back to Bayonne last year to live with my grandmother who’s getting
on in years and needs a little help.  I’ll be driving up to see them for Easter
in two days, so I think I will hold off making a decision until then.

My mother and I are as different as any two people could be, but she
always has my best interest at heart.  Truth be known, I never really
understood my mother.  She is the kindest, gentlest, most giving person I
know.  I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t think the world of her.  The only
person who doesn’t like my mother is my mother. 

People tell me she wasn’t always like this.  I have some spotty memories
of my mother being sociable, taking me on outings, even entertaining family
upon occasion. 

Some of my fondest memories were from a time when I was very young and all
three of us, my mother, my father, and I, would all go camping with another
family.  To me, they were my aunt, uncle, and cousins, but in reality, they
were my parents’ best friends.  We never went far, but it was like entering
another world.  Each family had a camper and we’d drive to different campsites
just to get away for the weekend.  We visited museums, zoos, parks, and
historic villages.  We’d come back and roast marshmallows and stay out playing
until late into the night.

Everything changed when my father left us.  I was still young, maybe nine
or ten years old, but I remember it well.  It tore my mother apart.  She
changed jobs so she could make more money to support us and she stopped seeing
her friends.  I suspect she didn’t like being around other couples.  She didn’t
have any single friends, so she grew closer and closer to my grandparents.

For years, my father would flit in and out of our lives, causing chaos
and tension each time.  My mother never had a chance to move on because she
kept waiting for him to come back for good, but he never did.  Things would
start out fine, but eventually, he’d start drinking again and everything would
fall apart.  My mother never once asked him to leave; it was always his
decision to go.  This vicious cycle repeated over and over again well into my
high school years.  I think if she had her way, he’d still be in our lives.

That is, until I decided that enough was enough.  During my sophomore
year, I was invited to the Senior Prom.  It was a big deal, even though I was
only going with a friend.  I was very excited.  One afternoon, my father had
started drinking early and asked me where I thought I was going.  I told him I
was going shopping for a prom dress with my friends.  He told me that only
sluts go to the prom with boys they aren’t dating, and I must have promised him
sex or he wouldn’t have asked me.

Something changed in me that day.  I looked at this man who was supposed
to be my father and saw him for what he truly was, pathetic and unworthy.  I
didn’t get upset, I didn’t even get mad.  I became empowered.  I took action,
something my mother was never strong enough to do.

I called my aunt and uncle, whom I admire and respect immensely, and
asked them to pick me up.  I packed enough clothes to last a week.  With their
support, I called my mother at work and informed her that I would not be
returning home.  Eventually, after a few weeks, my father left and I returned
home.  I’m still to this day not sure why he left.  I don’t know if my mother
asked him to leave, or if he just got bored again.  It doesn’t matter.  I took
control of my own life at that moment, and I decided that I would never become
like my mother, weak and powerless. 

My last year in college, I came dangerously close to living a life I
swore I would never allow.  David was someone I thought I could build a life
with.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  It happened slowly, so slowly that I
didn’t even notice at the time, but I can see now how many similarities there
are between David and my father.  To the outside world, David was fun-loving
and an all-around nice guy, just like my father.  But behind closed doors, he
became pensive, dark and brooding.  My moods started changing based on David’s
moods.  I stopped making decisions and instead let his frame of mind dictate
our activities. 

It was my mother who finally spoke up about it.  She shared with me
something I didn’t know.  She never liked David, not one bit.  She didn’t trust
him and she didn’t like the direction our relationship was headed.  But because
of her self-doubt, she never told me, not until I voiced my own concerns
first.  She knew I would come to my own conclusions eventually and was afraid
that if she shared her fears, it would only propel me towards him rather than
away.

Easter is only two days away.  I think talking it through with her will
help clarify things for me.  It’s liberating knowing that I don’t have to make
a decision right now.  I can feel relief wash over me and I am no longer
weighed down with this heavy burden.

Time to head home.

I allow myself to think about the possibility of forgiving Evan.  I send
him a text to thank him for the flowers and to ask for the one thing I need
above all else.  Time.

J
ust like last Friday, it’s only Emmy and me working the lunch shift on
the patio.  I’m stocking the reach-in cooler as Emmy arrives.  “Jette, you look
so much better.  Did you and Evan work things out?” 

“No, Emmy, we didn’t.  He really hurt me and that’s not something I can
just ignore.” 

“You’re crazy.  He is sooooo yummy.”  I can tell she’s fantasizing about
Evan.  If I decide to take him back, that’s something I guess I’ll have to get
used to.

Most of the schools are closed today for Good Friday, and the boardwalk
is filled with families.  Season tickets for the boardwalk rides went on sale
today at a discount price, bringing lots of customers to the boardwalk for
lunch.  Since the majority of our guests are young mothers and small children,
not many cocktails are being ordered today. 

“So, Emmy, any plans tonight?  Want to do something?”  I really don’t
want to be alone tonight.

“Yeah. why don’t you come hang with us at Grant’s?  I’ll send Marcus a
text.  We can get the whole gang together.”

“Actually, that sounds perfect.  I have some champagne cupcakes for
Camilla to sample.  Mind if I bring them?”  I meant to call her yesterday, but
things didn’t go exactly as planned.

“You know, if you’re serious about breaking up with Evan, I know someone
else who would jump at the chance –“

“Emmy, please.  Not now.”

A young couple catches my eye as they wander out onto the patio.  They
are a few years older than me, but not by many.  The wife is pregnant, very
pregnant in fact.  She sits at a table looking out onto the ocean.  Her husband
is doting on her and it’s adorable.  Once his wife is seated, he helps remove
her sweater and puts his arm around the back of her chair.  Then, it happens. 
He starts to caress her back, making tiny circles along her bare shoulders. 
Memories of dinner with Evan flood my thoughts.  I can feel his hands on my
shoulders, tracing the same tiny circles and making my heart beat faster. 

Emmy notices my melancholy.  “You miss him, don’t you?”  I nod my head. 
“You could invite him, too.  The guys would be psyched if Big Mac showed up.”

“Emmy, please stop thinking about him as a football star.  Please?  He’s
just my ex-boyfriend.  One that hurt me, a lot.” 

“You’re right.  I’m sorry.  But there was a whole month last year when
his picture was splayed across my computer screen.”

“Excuse me?”

“Desktop wallpaper.  Right now every time I turn on my computer, Ian
Somerhalder is there waiting for me, smiling.”

Two hours later our shift ends, and I’m making my way out to my
car.  Waiting for me on my windshield is a flower.  It’s a single red
rose wrapped in plastic – the kind you could buy at a gas station.  It
doesn’t feel like something Evan would do.  I throw the car in drive and
take off.  This time, no one follows me.

I come home and lock all the doors, check all the windows, and close the
curtains.  I can’t call Evan.  He’ll come right over and I’m not ready for
that.  Calling Auggie is a possibility, but suppose he’s with a client?  He
would drop everything and come home, I know it.  Derek is off today.  It’s
probably best if I give him a call and ask him to come pick me up.

“Hi Derek, it’s Jette.  Are you busy?”

“No, not at all.  What do you need?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could come over and pick me up.  I found
something on my windshield, and I’m a little freaked out.  Do you mind?”

“I’m on my way.  I’ll be there in five minutes.  Sit tight.”  In less
than five minutes, Derek is standing on my front porch.  Maddy starts barking
like crazy.  I unlock the door and invite Derek in.  Maddy won’t stop barking.

“Derek, have a seat, I’m going to put the dog in Auggie’s room.  I’ll be
right back.”  I grab a bowl of water and take Maddy by the collar.  Once I shut
the door, she jumps onto Auggie’s bed and calms down.

“Sorry about that.  She really doesn’t like men.”  There is one man she
liked other than Auggie.

“That’s okay.  Go get ready.  I’ll be fine.  Mind if I turn on the
television?”

I hand him the remote.  “Here you go.  There’s a six-pack in the fridge
and some bottled water if you’re thirsty.  Help yourself.”

Quickly, I gather a change of clothes and hop into the shower.  I feel
slightly uncomfortable showering with Derek in the next room, so I make it a
quick shower.  When I exit the bathroom, I am completely dressed, but my hair’s
in a towel.  I stick my head in the living room to check on Derek.

“Give me ten more minutes.  I have to dry my hair and put on some make
up.  Do you need anything?”

“Nope, I’m good.  Take your time.”  He has a beer in his hand, but other
than that, it doesn’t appear he’s moved since I left him to shower.  He’s
sitting on my couch looking comfortable and at ease.  I head into my room to
dry my hair. 

This is a glimpse of what my life would be like without Evan.  It’s a
good life.  But I don’t want good.  I don’t want good enough.  I want amazing.

D
erek and I arrive at his house and the gang’s all here: Marcus and
Camilla, Grant and Emmy, and now Derek and me.  I sit back to observe the
easiness they all have around one another.  Emmy and Camilla are talking
wedding plans and the boys are all talking about basketball.  Apparently it’s
nearing the end of March Madness and the Jayhawks aren’t doing as well as
Marcus had predicted.

Everyone is talking over and around one another until Emmy speaks up. 
“Come on, girls.  Let’s go taste some wedding cupcakes.”  Emmy leads us back
into the kitchen where we busy ourselves around the table.

Camilla has brought with her a pitcher of Pomegranate Margaritas and Emmy
is holding three glasses.  While the girls prepare our drinks, I fish around the
kitchen and find three small plates and some forks.  I serve our desserts and
anxiously await their response.

“Oh my God, Jette, this is delicious!” Camilla announces.  I’m so
relieved that she likes them.

“These are champagne flavored.  I can make some Prosecco flavored
cupcakes instead if you want to try.”  We chat a little about various liquor
flavors we could experiment with.  Emmy wants me to make a coconut and rum
flavored cupcake, and Camilla decides she’d like to try a mojito cupcake.  It
looks like I have a lot of experimental baking to do.  It will be good to keep
busy.