Page 13 of Love Under Construction

Opening my old dresser, I hope that maybe I’ll get lucky and find some comfortable clothes that I may have left behind, but it’s no use. They’re as empty as my heart feels right now. Moving over to my favorite spot in the room, I decide to curl up in the window seat that looks out over our backyard. I spent so much of my youth in this very spot. Reading, watching the sunset, and just being.

Memories of all the parties my parents hosted in the yard come flooding back. How much fun my dad always had. How he would beam with pride on each of my birthdays as I blew out the candles. The way he would operate the grill and entertain our guests with such ease. People enjoyed being around my dad. His easy-going personality attracted everyone to him. Dad never met a person who wasn’t a friend.

I’m caught up in a whirlwind of emotion and memories when my cell phone buzzes from beside me.

Jameson: I’m sorry.

I snort. If he didn’t know every detail of what’s happening here last night, I am sure he knows by now.

Me: Thank you? Is that what I’m supposed to say. What the hell DO you say at a time like this?

Jameson: I don’t know. ‘I’m sorry’ felt like a cop-out to me, too if that’s any consolation.

Me: I’m not sure that it is.

Jameson: Anything I can do?

Me: How’s Peaches?

His response is delayed but only by a minute.

Jameson: I took her to work today. I think she’s tired and she’s made a new friend.

Attached is a picture of my pup sleeping next to Harley, on their couch.

Me: Why are you so kind to me? I still hate you.

Jameson: Liv. I’ve always been kind to you. You’re the one who assumes I'm a jerk.

It’s too much for me even to begin to decipher what that means, or if his own feelings are hurt for some reason. Instead, I power my phone off and decide to try and close my eyes in the comfort of my own bed.

The last thing I remember as I drift off to sleep is praying that I’ll wake up back in New York and that today has only been a nightmare.

* * *

I wakethe next morning to the smell of coffee brewing and hushed voices in the house. As my body adjusts, I realize that I’m still in my childhood bedroom and it wasn’t a nightmare at all, but my new reality. Soon, there will be one less person living in this house. My dad will be gone, and a piece of my soul will go with him.

Shuffling out of bed, I slowly make my way downstairs to the kitchen and find my mom talking to Jameson. When I walk in, they both go silent, and my mom looks at me questionably. Only then I realize, I’m still in yesterday’s clothes and I’m sure my hair looks more like a rat’s nest.

“Oh, honey. Why don’t you get a shower and freshen up? I’ll bring your coffee to you.” Mom immediately jumps into action, giving me a quick side hug then trying to brush down my hair with her hands.

“I’m fine, Mom. Please don’t.”

Mom pulls me back into her arms and whispers in my ear. “It wasn’t a request. Go shower and put on some fresh clothes. We have company.”

Ah, yes. Heaven forbid our ‘guest’ sees one of us in less than perfect condition. I grit my teeth and do my best not to roll my eyes. Funny how even with everything else going on, Mom is still hell-bent on keeping up appearances.

“I, uh,” Jameson squeezes the back of his neck. “I actually should get going for a bit. I’ll come back by later with my parents.”

“Nonsense. You stay right where you are young man. Olivia will be back shortly,” she turns her attention back to me. “Right dear?”

Smiling sweetly I reply, “Yes ma’am. Let me go freshen up.”

Jameson’s mouth twitches to smile at the sarcasm in my voice. When my mom’s not looking he winks at me before I scurry away.

Tucked back in my room a few minutes later, I quickly power on my phone and send Jameson a text.

Me: What are you doing here???

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