Page 86 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
Is that the only word she knows now? Taking a deep breath, I push forward and hope I get more of a response from her as I get into it. “Natalie and I were good together. We met through a mutual acquaintance, and things progressed easily. Our marriage was solid.”
I can see her chewing her lip, which probably means I’m going about this all wrong.
I shift to the edge of my seat so I’m closer to her. “Things at work were really good too, and I moved up the ranks quickly. I loved my job, and I felt like I had really found my calling. I got promotions, started earning more, and I was on track to become a partner at the firm. I was really building something for us, and I loved that feeling of success. I was on top of the world.”
I shake my head, dropping my gaze to my shoes. “But the problem with being on top of the world is all the stuff that gets left at the bottom. The higher I rose, the busier I got. The more time I spent at the office. Late afternoons turned into late nights, weekends became two more days of work I could pack in each week, and my career was exploding. But not in a good way.
“Natalie was the one paying for my rise to riches, and I had no idea. That’s the worst part—I didn’t even know it. I never saw my wife because I was always either at the office or off on business dinners, and there were times I even slept on the couch in my office because I was there so late that there was no point in going home. Nat and I…”
This is the part I hate the most, but it’s the most important part. “We were roommates at best. Not even that after a while because she started spending her weekends with her friend an hour away. And me? I didn’t care. She could do what she wanted, and it didn’t change my ability to work, so I. Didn’t. Care. Natalie rightfully made the decision to leave because I couldn’t see how much of an idiot I was being.”
I sigh, wishing I was brave enough to look at Brooklyn and gauge her thoughts. They’ll be written on her face, as always, and that’s terrifying. She’s got to think the worst of me—who wouldn’t?—but I keep talking anyway.
“It wasn’t until she asked for a divorce that it all hit me. It was like I’d been thrown out of a plane without a parachute, and if I had just opened my eyes, I would have seen the chute sitting right there, waiting for me to grab it. I didn’t even try to argue Nat’s decision; I agreed to the divorce without hesitation and put in my notice at my job the next day. It was the wakeup call I needed but never should have had. As soon as everything was final, I came back to Sun City and have been trying my hardest to focus on the most important parts of life.”
And now that I’ve said all that, I jump into the important part of this conversation. The one that relates to her and will hopefully explain why I’ve been such a jerk the last few days. Explain, but not excuse. I’ll make sure she knows that part.
“Clearly I’m a work in progress,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Houston gave a shout-out to No Mow Problems in an interview this week, which is awesome, but I fell right back into old habits. I could have been hanging out with you, but instead I was sitting on a sticky diner seat answering emails that didn’t need to be answered. Houston literally canceled an entire day’s worth of work so I would take a break because I am so prone to only focusing on one thing at a time, even if it’s the wrong thing. I went an entire day without talking to you, and I hate that. I’m a mess.”
And at this point I won’t be surprised if she decides she’s better off without me. She has her own things to work through.
“I thought you should know,” I finish quietly. “Before, you know… Before you decide you might want to see if we can be something.”
Then I hold my breath. Waiting. I’ll wait here all night if I have to, but I need to know what she’ll say.
“Jordan?” She doesn’t say anything else until I look up, and for once, she’s impossible to read. I can’t tell if she’s worried, angry, amused… Nothing. “Thank you. For telling me all of that. I know that can’t have been easy.”
While I appreciate her sympathy, it does nothing to ease my tension. “You and Houston have always been my rock,” I admit. No sense in stopping my oversharing now that I’ve started.
Brooklyn’s careful mask finally cracks, her eyebrows pulling low as she cocks her head. “Why? I mean, why did you stay over so often?”
I shrug. “I never felt like I had to be or do anything specific when I was at your house. It was so much easier to forget I had stuff to do, and it was like any expectations were gone and the pressure was off.”
A smile plays on her lips. “Is that because I thought so poorly of you?”
“Maybe.” I chuckle.
“Or maybe we set the bar so low that—”
I grab her hand, cutting her off. “No. You have always been leagues above me. And literally no one but you can compare to Houston. The two of you are cut from the same overachieving cloth.”
She scoffs, and I know exactly what she’s going to say. “You’re comparing my award-winning, million-dollar salary, professional pitcher brother tome? An underpaid high school teacher who thought sticking Oreos to a man’s car would make him rethink his life?”
I choke on my ready response, thrown by her last comment. “Wait, you did what?”
Blushing, she shrugs and turns her focus to our connected hands. “You know that thing high schoolers used to do when they wanted to be edgy but were too afraid of actual vandalism?”
“You Oreo’d Mark’s car?”
“And ordered him a lame pizza for lunch. And sang Christmas carols because he hates them.”
My laugh bursts out of me, breaking through my post-confession anxiety for the first time. “Okay, when I said you should get in touch with the old Brooklyn, I didn’t think you would go that far into the past. It’s like when we drove your stepsister crazy by getting the songs stuck in her head all summer.”
She grins, her hand tightening around mine. “That’s where I got the idea. I was trying to think of things I used to do to get after you and Houston.”
“We were a united front on the Christmas songs,” I remind her.
“That was one of my favorites.”
