Sharon's hairdryer was loud, like really loud. Angela pulled her pillow over her head but it was no use, she suspected half the hotel had probably awoken to the same interminable drone. She opened one eye and focussed on her friend who was standing in front of the mirror, her red hair billowing out in every direction.
"Don't look at me like that; it's enough that they're meeting me on a Sunday, the least I can do is not have flat hair,"
Angela smiled despite herself, rolling on to her back and staring at the ceiling, wondering if Jordan was doing the same next door. She loved and hated the fact that they weren't alone in equal measure. She fantasised about having Jordan all to herself for an entire weekend in such a beautiful city, but at the same time she enjoyed the stolen moments, it reminded her a little of their youth, and she knew it would make it all the more exciting when she finally did get him all to herself.
Jordan lay awake facing the window, watching the apartment block opposite gradually light up as the inhabitants made the decision it was time to face Sunday morning. He wondered if Angela was still asleep, he thought he could hear a hairdryer but he was pretty certain that was more likely to be Sharon than Angela. He recalled meeting Angela numerous times at her house on Saturday mornings, she would run to his car with her hair still wet and smelling of the shampoo she always used. He loved that she never felt the need to make too much of an effort, not like the others, she was natural and pure and comfortable with him. When he was with her he felt different, he felt needed and part of something. Though he knew he could not be certain of it, he dreamed of the day Angela would arrive at his house with her bags and tell him that she loved him and would be with him for the rest of their days. He wouldn't allow himself to truly believe it until he saw it with his own eyes; he could see how difficult it was for Angela to be torn between him and her fiancé. After all she must have loved him.
"Dad?"
Jordan sat up and rubbed his eyes, "yeah?"
"I'm thirsty,"
The elder Jordan stretched and slipped out of bed, taking a bottle of water from the mini bar and pouring some into a glass on the dressing table for his son. He sat on the edge of the bed as Jay drank gratefully.
"So what do you want to do today?"
"I don't mind," the boy said cheerily, the water having washed away the weariness of sleep.
"Well we could go on the ferry, see the Statue of Liberty, or go on the open top bus? It's up to you buddy,"
"Can we go to the park?"
"Sure,"
"Is Angela coming with us?"
Jordan smiled, he couldn't help himself, "yeah, is that okay?"
The boy nodded, "does she like playing frisbee?"
Laughing, his father ruffled his hair and whispered, "I hope so,"
Next door Angela emerged from the bathroom just as Sharon was pulling on her jacket. Their eyes met briefly in the mirror and a trace of the tension from the night before was still evident. But Sharon was determined not to allow it to linger.
"So what have you guys got planned for today?" she asked cheerfully.
Angela shrugged, "I'm not sure, Jordan mentioned something about a bus tour,"
"Oh great, I get the museum, you get the sightseeing,"
"Sorry," Angela laughed.
Sharon took one final look in the mirror, adjusting the colourful silk scarf tied smartly around her neck. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before purposefully turning to Angela, "what I said last night-,"
"You don't have to explain,"
"It's not-, I mean I don't want you to think that there's something seriously wrong with Alex and me because there really isn't,"
Angela nodded.
"It was a long day yesterday, and after the shock of seeing Rayanne, it kind of threw me,"
Angela felt that familiar discomfort at the sound of her name, and Sharon sensed the change in her immediately.
"At least we know she's okay," Sharon offered, "she said she was working in a cafe a few blocks down from where we were. She looked just the same. Does Jordan ever talk about-,"
"Not often. Not by choice. I don't think it ended well. He has this scar," Angela swallowed hard, the thought of it made every muscle in her body tighten, "down his side. She did it with a bottle,"
Sharon gasped "are you serious? Rayanne attacked Jordan,"
"He won't say exactly why or-, I don't think it was the only time. He has other marks on him; this tiny scar on his forearm, and these two little marks on his shoulder, round like-,"
"Cigarette burns,"
Angela closed her eyes as if trying to chase away the horrible images in her mind, "I mean, I know his father was a bastard but," she sighed, "I knew every inch of him when we were teens Sharon, they're recent,"
"But how, I mean Jordan wouldn't just let her-,"
"I don't know. He's the gentlest man I've ever known Sharon, he would never lash out, not like that. She must have been out of her mind,"
Sharon nodded, "she always was kinda out of control, especially with the dinking. Poor Jordan,"
"Please don't say anything about this to him?"
"Of course not," Sharon assured her.
"Jordan's so proud, he doesn't like to be pitied or fussed over,"
"I won't utter a word," Sharon smiled.
"And I won't pry into your business again,"
Sharon shook her head as if to assure her she had moved beyond their misunderstanding, "It wasn't you who made me get angry, it's not like I don't pry enough myself into your life,"
"Well there's never been anything to tell before,"
"I get angry at myself for worrying all the time. I drive myself a little crazy I guess,"
Angela frowned, trying to comprehend what Sharon was getting at.
"I think he's seeing someone else Angela," Sharon glanced up at Angela's stunned expression, "I know, I'm probably being paranoid, I really should stop thinking these things but-," she looked down at her watch, "I have to go, I'm going to be late." She opened her oversized handbag to check one last time she had everything she needed.
"Sharon-," Angela began.
"It's nothing," Sharon grinned, reaching forward to hug Angela, "you have the best day, okay? I'll see you tonight for dinner,"
Angela nodded, dumbstruck. Even when Sharon had closed the door behind her Angela remained standing still. It suddenly made sense; why Sharon had acted so strangely over her and Jordan. She felt an incredible guilt at the thought of causing Ben so much pain; she felt selfish and weak and ungrateful. She should never have gone to Jordan's house that day; she should never have agreed to accompany him to the gallery opening. If she hadn't have gone then perhaps none of this would have happened and perhaps she could have continued living her life with Ben and been happy.
She thought about this and the strange new direction her life had taken, as she stood under the shower. What if she had never met Jordan again? Then perhaps in another few years she would have stopped thinking about him altogether. When Ben mentioned high school, Jordan might not have been the first thing she thought of. When she came across an old item of clothing in her wardrobe she might not automatically be taken back to a memory of wearing it to meet him. And when she slipped into bed and wrapped her arms around Ben, she might do so without occasionally imagining that it was Jordan instead.
There was a knock at the door shortly after Angela had finished getting dressed. She paused at the door before opening it, worrying that she would be unable to conceal her concerns from Jordan. As soon as the door was opened a crack, Jordan impatiently pushed it the rest of the way forcing Angela to step backwards in surprise. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her hard against him, burying his face in her neck and inhaling the sweet scent of her wet hair for a few moments before kissing her passionately. The warmth of his mouth, the silky slickness of his tongue against hers and the irresistible sound of his occasional muffled groans was almost enough to alleviate any worries Angela might have been mulling over prior to his appearance.
Jordan ended the kiss with a peck on the nose and grinned, pleased with himself, "we ordered breakfast. Well, Jay did - he went a little overboard,"
He led Angela through to next door where Jay was happily sat cross-legged at the bottom of the bed watching cartoons. The boy looked up as his father entered with Angela, "Angela look, I ordered it on the telephone,"
"Wow," she smiled at the sight of the pastries, fruit and cereal arranged on the table near the balcony doors.
"They brought it on a trolley, the woman said I was cute," Jay grinned.
Angela laughed, "did she now?" She caught Jordan's eye and raised her eyebrows – like father, like son.
As they sat down to eat breakfast, Angela felt like part of the family. She looked across the little table at Jordan and Jay as they both made a mess of the fiddly pastries, each sending crumbs over the edges of their plates and licking their fingers. She couldn't help but think about what breakfasts would have been like with Rayanne. So many questions were running through her mind, questions that she had managed to bury but which had been exhumed by Sharon's encounter. How had Jordan and Rayanne even come to have anything approaching an actual relationship? And how long were they together for? And how could she abandon her own child? And did Jordan love her?
Her thoughts must have been reflected in her face because she felt the warmth of Jordan's hand on her knee and, looking up, his eyes entreating hers. She smiled and took a spoonful of blueberries to add to her cereal. But the constant buzzing in her head refused to leave her.
Jay convulsed with laughter again at the sight of his father diving on to the grass to catch the frisbee. The boy ran over to him and jumped on his chest, Jordan pulled him close and then lifted him up in the air resulting in shrieks of delight. Angela ran over to the pair, picking up the frisbee and dropping down to her knees beside them.
"Look Angela, I'm flying!"
Angela laughed, "You are! What can you see from up there?"
"Everything," came the excited reply.
She looked down at Jordan, his face a picture of contentment, and lay down beside him on the grass. Jordan brought Jay down from his elevated position and the boy scrambled off his father and positioned himself between them. The trio looked up at the grey sky and the ominous clouds gathering above them, ready to rain.
"We should probably get inside," Jordan suggested.
"No," protested Jay, "it won't rain hard,"
Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth they each felt the first drops on their faces.
"Come on," Jordan quickly stood up, picking up a still protesting Jay and swinging him over his shoulder before reaching out a hand to help Angela stand.
They took refuge in a café off Broadway and selected a table by the window. Angela and Jay rid themselves of their wet coats while Jordan went up to the counter to place an order.
"Look at it now, bouncing off the pavement,"
Jay looked out at the people dashing through the rain sheltered under umbrellas, coats and newspapers, and cursing as their expensive shoes landed in puddles. Angela watched him watching them. His features were so alike to Jordan, the same elegant nose slightly turned up at the tip, the same concerned brow. Yet there was something in the eyes that was unmistakably Rayanne.
"Angela?"
"Mmmmhmm,"
"Do you love my dad?"
Angela's breath caught in her throat and she coughed. Jordan patted her on the back as he returned to the table with their drinks and sat down between them. He laughed, "you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm just going to the bathroom,"
She stood and made her way unsteadily to the back of the café, alternating between anger at her own decision to come to New York in the first place and guilt at having been so eager to be with Jordan with she hadn't considered the impact on Jay.
As in so many small cafes, likely family businesses for decades, the bathroom had been an afterthought and fitted at a later date into a tiny underused space. In this case it was located down a short corridor that ran down the side of the kitchen. A door marked "Staff Only" opened suddenly as Angela passed and a waitress stepped out carrying a tray of drinks and a plate of sandwiches. Distracted and flustered Angela muttered an apology.
"Don't sweat it," came the reply.
Angela's subconscious stopped her in her tracks, aware of something that present Angela had failed to register. One gradually caught up with the other.
Jay and Jordan both smirked at one another as a man in a smart suit fell victim to the combination of a cab and a puddle. The sound of plates smashing caused them to turn immediately to face the source of the clatter. The young man behind the counter moved toward the doorway leading down to the kitchen and bathroom but quickly stepped away as two figures, each gripped at the shoulders by the other, emerged through the doorway. One moved to grab a handful of the other's hair, eliciting a scream of pain, whilst the other dug fingernails into skin revealed by a loose fitting t-shirt. Jordan, recognising the pair, jumped to separate them, pushing them apart with the help of the young waiter.
Angela and Rayanne stilled, breathing deeply, eyes wild. There was a sharp crack as Rayanne slipped a hand free of the young waiter's grip and slapped Angela across the face. Angela groaned in pain and covered the injured cheek with her hand as the young waiter retained Rayanne once again.
"Angela,"
Jay raced across the café and took a grasp of Angela's free hand.
Rayanne's face was still. Her eyes softened and her shoulders sank. "Well isn't that beautiful,"
"Rayanne," Jordan's voice was steady and authoritative.
A smile spread across her face as she looked down at the boy with his cheek against Angela's leg. "Is this my boy?"
Jay frowned "who are you?"
Rayanne looked up at Jordan and then at Angela, still holding her face, and she grinned at their helplessness. After all Angela had abandoned her when she had needed her most. Jordan was all that she could salvage: a little part of her friend to be the focus of her anger and unhappiness. Until she realised that he served merely as a painful reminder and a reflection of her own sadness at Angela's abandonment.
"I'm your mommy," she grinned, "do you remember me?"
"No, I've never seen you before," the boy replied.
"You have," Rayanne bent down toward him, "you were just very small,"
Jordan placed a protective hand around Jay's shoulders and pulled him back against Angela again. "Rayanne, we're leaving,"
Rayanne scoffed, "you can't, he's my son,"
"No he's not," Jordan countered, "he's my son,"
"Yours and Angela's I suppose. Are you playing happy families now? Like a kid will ever make the two of you work," she laughed.
Jordan instigated a move toward the door, taking hold of Angela's hand in a purposeful show of solidarity.
"What happened to your fiancé?"
Angela stopped.
"Last I heard from Rickie you were living the good life together,"
"Come on," Jordan nudged Angela further toward the door and she willingly allowed him to lead her for a moment before swiftly turning, avoiding Jordan's attempt to encircle her waist and prevent her.
"For your information Rayanne, my life is none of your business and hasn't been for years. Not since I last saw you, vomiting on the sidewalk at midnight when you swore to me that you were clean,"
Rayanne gritted her teeth, "fuck you,"
Angela held eye contact for a few moments before turning her back on her friend again.
Sharon sat on the edge of the bed while Angela wept into the pillow. She had always been aware of Angela's acute guilt at what had happened to Rayanne. Though she had tried to bury it, it was always evident to Sharon that the fate of their one time friend had cast a long shadow in Angela's mind.
"It was never your fault Angela. How could you have done anything more to help her when she didn't want to help herself?"
Sharon knew her comforting words were of little use.
Next-door Jordan and Jay sat together on one of the beds. Jay played with the two miniature action figures that he always kept on his bedside drawer and Jordan struggled to find the words to explain the events of the afternoon.
"Was she telling lies?" the boy asked eventually.
"No she wasn't," was the only reply.
Further silence followed. Jay played with the figures but his usual enthusiasm was absent.
"Joey Taskerson's dad," he suddenly spoke up again, "lives in Indiana and only visits on weekends,"
"Does he?"
"Uh huh. Joey said the reason he doesn't live with him and his mom is because he's allergic to their cat,"
Jordan smiled, "is that right,"
Jay nodded. "Joey Taskerson doesn't have a cat,"
Jordan ruffled the boy's hair. To his surprise Jay stood up on the bed, rising to just level with Jordan's face, and hugged his father. Jordan, almost moved to tears, wrapped his arms around his son.
Sharon answered the knock at the door despite Angela begging her not to.
"Sharon could you watch Jay for me?"
Sharon hesitated but agreed.
Jordan closed the door and moved toward the bed where Angela lay facing the window, toying with the corner of the pillow. Jordan sat behind her with his back against the headboard and gently rubbed her back, still shuddering with her tears.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"No," she stuttered, "it's me who should apologise." She turned around and rested her head on his thigh, his hand moved to stroke her hair as she laid a hand on his knee. "I should never have come here with you. Poor Jay," her voice broke into tears again.
"Hey," he brushed away the new tears with his thumb, "I always knew the day would come when I would have to tell him everything. And that he was too smart for that day to be all that far in the future." His hand reached down to take hold of hers, "Rayanne won't hurt him, I won't let her. But there's no point denying who she is,"
Angela sat up and looked him in the eyes. It pained him to see her eyes reddened with tears. It brought back memories of the other times he had seen her cry. Too many times.
Jordan ran a finger across the red mark on Angela's cheek where Rayanne's hand had make contact earlier. Angela almost subconsciously stroked his side where the scar remained as a reminder of their ill-fated liaison. He leant in slowly and placed delicate kisses up her neck, brushing back her hair in order to continue his journey up to her ear, whispering something almost inaudible even to Angela, "anyone ever tell you, you think too much?"
Angela smiled, "all the time,"
Jordan smirked, "hey, you held your own pretty well in that scrap,"
She blushed, "it's so embarrassing, I don't know what came over me,"
"Wait a minute, you started the fight?"
He received a barely there nod in response, "I guess it was everything I'd tried to press down just came out when I saw her. I couldn't control it,"
Jordan wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, "I should have been there for you,"
"You were," she reassured.
"Not when you needed me. Not when she-," he hesitated, "not when she needed me. Maybe if I'd done something then, if maybe I'd gotten through to her. Maybe things would have been different,"
Angela shook her head, "don't wish that," she whispered, achingly aware of her own hypocrisy, "you would never wish not to have Jay. He's the best thing that could ever have happened. You're the most incredible father Jordan and he worships you. Rayanne was beyond the help that any of us could have given then. We were kids,"
Jordan shook his head, "My father was exactly the same. Well, not the same but-,"
Angela had only ever met Jordan's father a couple of times. He had always been very polite and courteous. But his act was futile because Jordan had eventually confessed to her his true nature.
He sighed, "I shouldn't have let you carry it for so long. I should have done something,"
She caressed his face and implored him not to blame himself. She glanced down at her hand resting in her lap, "how did the two of you-, I mean it's okay if you don't want to tell me. But I would like to understand if you'll let me,"
"Angel." He sighed out her name, like he always did when she'd asked something that he wasn't prepared to answer.
"Jordan I'm going to leave my fiancé for you. I've loved you since I was just a kid. Please just let me in," she clasped his hand and laid her other hand on top.
"She came round to my house one night a few weeks after you left for college. She was drunk. Angry,"
"Angry? About what?"
Jordan licked his bottom lip slowly and shook his head, "everything." He swallowed hard. "I felt sorry for her. We had a long history and it was hard for me to see her like that,"
It seemed plausible enough to Angela. Jordan had known Rayanne forever. They "messed around" as he put it when they were pre-teens, and she had been handing him sticking plasters for the cuts and bruises he got at home before Angela even knew he existed. But still there was something about his explanation that didn't seem complete. She thought back to the cigarette burns and the scar down his side.
Angela took a deep breath and slipped off the bed, collecting her bag from the armchair.
"Where are you going?" asked Jordan.
"I need to speak to Rayanne,"
"I should come with you" he said quickly, trying to slip on his shoes before she could reach the door.
"No. You two have your own things you need to sort out but I need to talk to her,"
Jordan inhaled ready to further dissuade her from going but she beat him to it.
"Please don't follow me,"
Gosh it's been a long time - sorry about that. Hopefully I will have a bit more time now to update a little more regularly. Thank you for the reviews and the encouragement. xxx