“You can really shut the door on Payton that easily? I mean, you were in love with him. That’s a very complex feeling and doesn’t have much to do with logic or reason.”
“I get that, Mom. I do. It hurts. Of course it hurts. But it isn’t crippling, which is a sign that I didn’t love him as much as I could have. I appreciate your concern, but I’m okay. I promise.”
“That’s good.”
Jenna was about to say goodbye when her mom asked, “And you just came home?”
“No. I wasn’t able to get out of Boston before the big storm hit. I stayed in the city with a friend.” Jenna wasn’t going to talk about Rick. Or their one glorious, magical weekend together. She’d keep their brief fairy-tale romance close to her heart. Maybe forever. But as wonderful and charming and yes, nice, Jenna thought with a smile, Rick had been, she was very clear that he wasn’t a forever kind of guy. At least not for someone like her. And she’d made peace with that. Well, it was more a work in progress, but that was okay.
“Good. It’s nice that you have girlfriends in the city.”
Rick was definitely not a girlfriend, but he’d been just the ticket. “Yeah, it was nice. But now that I’m home, I’ve got so much to catch up on.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself. You’re still in mourning over Payton. It’s such a shame. I suppose knowing he’d slept with this other woman...that would be too much to bear.”
A sharp pang in her chest came with the surprise that although he hadn’t slept with Faith, it hurt her as if he had. “I was just working out what to do about the pictures. Of Payton and me. Or us with other friends. There are a lot of photos. I don’t feel the need to rip them apart or cross out his face. I did spend a number of years caring about him.”
“That’s true,” her mother said. “If you want my opinion, I say take all the pictures and put them in a box. Put that somewhere you never look. Eventually, you’ll find them again, and they’ll either bring you joy or not.”
“Oh, that’s very clever. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
It struck Jenna that the whole conversation had been about her. She wished she could think of something to ask her mother, but there was only the usual. “Was Dad there for New Year’s Eve?”
“No, he couldn’t make it in time. But we were together by voice. It was lovely.”
What it was, was typical. Her father rarely made it home for holidays. Or parties. Or birthdays. Or recitals. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I saw some beautiful fireworks with my friends from work. I had a lovely time. I’m sorry you didn’t. Although you sound awfully good for someone whose life has just done a one-eighty.”
“I’m fine. Honestly.”
“I believe you. But, if you don’t mind one more opinion from me, maybe it’s a good time to look at that requirements-for-a-husband list of yours. See if maybe there’s room for some flexibility.”
She was never going to be as flexible as her mother. Not when it came to a husband. But for now, she said. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Mom. I’ve got to go eat something or I’ll really get drunk on this glass of wine. Talk to you soon?”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.”
Jenna hung up, but she didn’t rush to the kitchen. Or to the laundry. She thought about Rick and wondered what she would have done without him.
* * *
HE FINISHED HIS beer and used his hand to crumple the can, something he never did anymore. For years, he’d done it while yelling like an idiot, but now he only did it to see if he still could.
Instead of grabbing another one, he examined the contents of his fridge. Beer, another kind of beer, Chinese food leftovers, pizza still in the box, milk and a half-dozen organic apples. The milk won the toss. He grabbed the Raisin Bran from the cupboard, along with a bowl and a spoon, then settled at the table. He ate while he finished reading an abstract from the Journal of Meteorology and Climatology, then checked the time.
Jenna would be home now. She’d had to stay after school for a parent-teacher thing, but she’d said she’d be home by nine.
Considering what he’d learned about her evenings over this past week, he’d bet she’d be finished with her chores by the time he packed three boxes. Not books, though. He’d need to go through those carefully, so tonight he’d gather his summer clothes and the spring workout equipment that was currently stored in the gym closet.
After he finished his cereal he grabbed an apple, then took a look at the living room. The open-plan two-bedroom apartment he and Faith shared was tidy, but not really clean. Only some of the furniture matched, but that was because the pieces had been purchased for practicality instead of decor. Good ol’ Ikea. The pictures on the walls were shots of nature or sporting events. In fact, all the pictures on all the walls were like that, and he was pretty sure the lion’s share were Faith’s.
In all the years he’d lived with her he never noticed that their place looked like a big dorm room. One step up from a storage shed. The books they had were mostly nonfiction and mirrored their professions. They’d gone in together on the big-ticket items in the living room, like the fifty-inch LED television.
Without having to look, he knew that their cupboards held a lot more protein powders and supplements than food.
And the gym, well, that said a lot about them both. He tossed the apple core in the trash, and then started with the closet. Their exercise room took up the entire second bedroom, except for a small desk where Faith worked when she wasn’t on the road.
Damn, they had a lot of stuff. A top-of-the-line Bowflex, free weights, kettlebells, balance balls, a yoga station, the Pilates bench, a treadmill and an elliptical machine. The problem was that they’d gone in together on most of it.
When she got back from Mexico, they’d have to discuss the division problem in depth. And that meant he had to do more than drop hints about him moving out. She’d been slammed with the Mexico assignment, the communication between them had sucked and he’d thought he’d wait until she got home to even start looking for apartments.
But he didn’t want to wait. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important to leave soon, but there it was. She’d be in Mexico for at least another week, which would hopefully give them time to talk and him the opportunity to make the move. He didn’t want Faith to feel bad about any of this.
He put in his earbuds and listened to his iPod on shuffle as he packed three boxes. It went quickly, but he was highly motivated. The first thing he did after packing was make a green drink. He turned on the gas fireplace in the living room and settled on the couch before he dialed Jenna’s number.
She answered on the second ring. “How many boxes tonight?”
“Three. How did the parent-teacher thing go?”
She sighed. “Why is it never anyone’s fault but mine when their kids misbehave? According to the survey I’ve conducted over the past several years, based on my own experiences plus the bitching in the teacher’s lounge, every single child in America is an angel who never does anything wrong. Ever.”
“Well, yeah. I guess you didn’t read the fine print on your contract. You’ve got some nerve making angels weep when you give them homework and expect it to be turned in when it’s due.”
“You’re right. I’m to blame.”
“I miss you,” he said, unapologetic about changing the subject.
“I know,” she said. “Me, too. It’s been a little over a week and it feels like a month. What time did you get home from work?”
“Around seven.”
“Wow, early for you. Did you find an apartment?”
“How could I? I’ve been too busy working, packing and talking to you. Every night,” he said, which was the sad truth and damn ridiculous when he thought about it. But Jenna’s laughter was a balm, better for him than any green drink.
“Well, you’re doing a good service because I needed this call,” she said. “Especially after my conversation with Payton.”
Oh, shit. “Wait.” Rick had known this could happen once things returned to normal. They’d talk, reconcile. “Tonight was the parent thing.”
“Lunch. We met at Applebee’s. He wasn’t happy. He didn’t bring any of my things, even though I’d asked him. When I gave him all his stuff back, I felt terrible. He was really hurt and confused, and kept telling me he hadn’t done anything except kiss her.”
“I can spare him a little sympathy,” he said, more relieved than he had a right to be. “I’d hate to lose you, too.”
A moment of awkward silence had him shaking his head. He could’ve worded that better. So, what now? Did he explain he’d been speaking in general terms, or...?
“Thank you for the compliment. That was very sweet,” Jenna said. “Payton’s a nice man and someday he’ll understand this is for the best, but right now he can’t see that he’d settled for me. He just can’t.”
“Not to be obnoxious, but I doubt he settled for you.”
Another few moments of silence. “We went to that stupid Bond-themed reunion five years in a row.”