As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated- I would particularly love to hear what you think about this chapter-- what you think about how it was written, the repercussions, etc. It would help me loads.
Oh, what else can I say about this chapter? Forgive me?
Heartbroken
Robert. Rob. Robbie. Bob. Just what the hell am I supposed to call this guy? He's my stepfather, which in itself is a weird enough concept.
Jack and I are on our way to my mom's place- which is new, according to Jack. Rob must have bought it for her. I might as well get all of this snarky attitude out now, before I take it all out on the poor guy. Maybe he's nice enough.
"What's he like? Rob, I mean."
His eyes travel off of the road to meet mine briefly. Brief is good, because I'm still really fucking scared to ride in a car. For some reason, Jack wouldn't let me drive, even though I was only joking when I offered. Ha.
"He's a nice guy, good golf partner," he grins. "You always seemed to like him. As much as you'd let yourself, anyway."
Whew. So I didn't let Rob become my replacement dad. My real dad- the bastard- wasn't much competition, but I still can't imagine anyone ever replacing him. It's weird to think that Rob and Jack are buddy-buddy though, because Jack hardly seems like the golf-playing type, even if he is a doctor.
"Jack?"
"Hmm?" He looks distracted, and it's probably because things between us have been well above our average awkward existence. It's been painful, and last night I started getting the urge to open all the windows in the apartment and scream out of them again. Or jump.
"Turn around. I don't want to meet him. I can't," I panic, because the last thing I've been since the crash is rational. Head trauma will do that to you.
What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't like him? What if he's really creepy? What if he has an old man tan? Oh God.
"Jesus Christ, Kate, I'm not turning the damn car around," he tells me, though he's chuckling lightly and shaking his head. "It'll be fine. You'll be fine."
"Is he bald?"
"Kate," he says simply, throwing me a looks that says I just asked the stupidest question ever.
I don't know what he's trying to get at- bald men creep me out. He has to know that.
I roll my eyes. "Is he?" I practically demand.
Jack doesn't answer, only letting an impish grin rest on his face, and he doesn't even budge when I scoot over in my seat and wrap my fingers around his bicep, like I'm going to squeeze the answer out of him.
"We're here." He puts the car in park and yanks his arm away from me. I try not to let the disappointment show on my face as we're walking to the front door. How can he turn from amused to almost angry so quickly? Though this is probably one of those pot calling the kettle black moments.
Shit, this house is nice. We weren't exactly poor when I was growing up, but I sure did get a lot of hand me downs from my cousins and eat macaroni out of a box fairly often. I bet little Jack had his own personal servant or something. Jerk.
Oh no. Bald man approaching. And he's orange. He has an old man tan. This is terrible.
He and Jack shake hands when we enter the foyer, sharing some joke that I don't think is the least bit funny.
Ugh. He's looking at me with his beady little eyes. Stop that. "Kate," he says warmly, pulling me into a hug like we're old friends. I'm as stiff as a corpse in his arms, and he releases me quickly, I'm sure realizing that I don't really know who the fuck he is.
"Of course," he says, and Jack throws me a questionable glance. "I kind of forgot…"
"Yeah." I seem to be the only one who never forgets. Well, I kind of have forgotten a few years… err never mind.
"I'm Rob." Extending his hand out towards mine, I want to laugh at the formality of it all. But then again, despite his orangeness, and his baldness, Rob's the first person that's actually bothered to introduce himself to me. Everyone else, except Jack, really, has just expected me to pretend I remember them.
Good job, Rob. I might just like you, after all.
"Oh, I see the two of you have met! Again." My mom comes bouncing down the stairs, hugging me tightly. I still think our situation is weird- we've never been this close before, but I guess some changes after the accident haven't been so bad. "So?" she asks me expectantly.
So what? I'm thinking this must be the part where she wants me to gush about her husband. Yeah, I think I'll skip that.
"Diane," Jack smiles, saving me from answering my mother's awkward question, as he pulls her into a short hug.
"So how's everything going? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"
Jesus, mom, I saw you like, four days ago. The world has come to an end.
"We're good," Jack says, as we take a seat on a plush couch in the living room. I can't really tell if he's lying to please my mother, or if we really are good now.
"Still getting used to everything, I guess," I pipe in, rubbing my hands on my jeans. Why am I so nervous?
Rob leans his elbows on his knees, giving me a perfect view of his shiny head. I can practically see my reflection in it. "How has the adjustment been? It must be hard," he sympathizes. I should really stop mocking this guy. He's nice. He seems to understand this more than my mom does.
"Yeah. It is. Jack's been helpful, though. Lucy, too." Jack turns his head and I offer him a shy smile. He smiles back, and he means it- it shows in his eyes. On the cushion beside me sits his hand, and I absently cover his with mine. He doesn't pull away.
"Glad to hear the two of you are doing okay," Rob smiles warmly. "I don't know what we'd do if you weren't. Host some kind of intervention, I suppose," he laughs.
Seriously, does our relationship really mean that much to other people? Why should it? It's ours. And I don't know what his definition of okay is, but Jack and I probably don't qualify. We're kind of a mess.
"Have you thought about going back to the clinic yet? It might be good for you to get out of the house more," my mom says, raising her eyebrows at me. Like I haven't thought of this a million times. Like I haven't wished I could remember how to do something I love. Do I have to explain this to her again? I'm not a vet anymore. I don't know how to be.
"Diane," Rob warns her, and it suddenly dawns on her what I was thinking. "Of course, dear. I'm sorry. It's just hard not having you… be you, I don't know."
If she thinks it's hard for her, try stepping in my shoes for a day. But instead of saying something I can't take back, I switch the subject.
"So, do you have pictures of your wedding I could see? Maybe I'll remember something," I offer, even though I'm pretty positive I won't. I haven't remembered anything since I jumped out of the closet and scared Margo. Yeah, and that turned out to be such a good day.
"Ooh, yes, I'll be right back!" she beams, jogging into a room connected to the living room, divided by a soft green wall.
"She goes nuts over weddings," Rob scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully.
Mom comes back in the room and hands me a thick white album with the words 'Our Wedding' in cursive silver print on the front. It cracks when I open it, and Jack scoots closer to me so he can look at the pictures too.
She looks beautiful, and so happy. So does Rob, and I guess I'm starting to accept the fact that she's finally moved on. She deserves to be happy for putting up with my dad for all those years. Her dress is fantastic, and Rob looks sharp in his tuxedo.
Crap. That is a hideous dress I'm wearing. I couldn't have picked that out. It's… pink. Pink! And there's a giant ruffle hanging off the bottom. The sleeves are capped and puffy, and I look like the 80s threw me up.
"Only the best for my matron of honor," she tells me softly.
Seriously? I mean, I know the dress is so ugly I can hardly look at it, can hardly believe I let her dress me in it, but I'm touched. I'm not the first person I would think to be her matron of honor. I still don't feel close enough to her to say anything, so I skim my hands over the soft paper of the pages, taking in the scenes of the reception.
Jack's beside me now, his side pressed into mine, his head craned, looking at the pictures, but it seems like I've only just become aware of his presence. My side tingles, but he doesn't seem to think anything of it. Then I come to it. Quite possibly the most adorable picture I've ever seen.
"I kind of snuck up on you. I'm a sap," Rob says bashfully. "Couldn't resist."
Jack wraps an arm around my waist, and I can almost feel him smiling into me. He probably wishes things were still like this between us.
It looks like we were slow dancing, his arms wrapped tight around my waist, mine around his neck, playing with his hair under my fingertips. But his head is ducked down, nuzzled into my neck, and I'm laughing like there's no tomorrow.
I want to remember that exact moment.
"Your wedding was actually fun," Jack tells my mom, smiling at her.
"Looks like it," I say. From everything I've seen, Jack and I looked like we were a fun couple to be around. We looked in love. But that was before all of this, before there was so much static, so much… doubt between us.
My mom sits back in her chair after bringing us drinks from the kitchen. "I'm glad the two of you let go for awhile. Those were a tough couple of days if I remember right…"
Umm, okay? Care to explain?
"Wasn't that after you found out-?" Jack clears his throat loudly, cutting her off.
"What?" It's obvious Jack doesn't want me to know something, or my mom has just touched on a subject we haven't discussed yet. "Jack? After we found out what?"
There's a heavy, beyond awkward silence that fills the room, and even though I don't have the slightest clue what's going on, I'm pretty sure I don't want to find out. I'm pretty sure I can't handle anything else.
"Kate," he starts, taking my hand and pulling me from the couch. My mom nods at him. "Take all the time you need, Jack."
My eyes must be bugging out of my head by now, and I could swear I'm breaking out in a cold sweat.
"What's going on?" I ask him, my eyes pleading with his, full of concern. "Why'd it turn so quiet in there all of a sudden?"
He sits on the loveseat, dropping his head into his hands and rubbing his hair. It's what he does when he's stressed, or worried. "Kate," he says again. He doesn't know what to say. This must be bad.
"Just tell me, Jack. Whatever it is, just tell me."
He sighs heavily. "Kate…"
"Stop saying Kate! Just tell me what's going on!"
"You know how we've been a little on edge lately? Over the whole 'children' discussion the other night?"
How could I forget?
"Jack, we practically didn't speak to each other for three days. Of course I know," I tell him sarcastically.
"I didn't want to make you more upset than you already are about everything, so I just decided that not talking about it was better for you."
"How's that your decision to make?"
He shakes his head. "It's not, I know. But I just… I don't want you to hate me, Kate."
"Did you cheat on me? Is that it?"
He better not have.
"No, no. Never," he says seriously. "I would never do that."
"Okay. So what is it? Why are you so worried about what I'll think?"
Jack stands and grasps his hands in mine, but it's not what I want right now. I just want him to tell me what made everyone in the living room turn silent. I want to know what the big deal is.
"I was going to tell you. I promise I was. You have to believe me," he tells me softly. His eyes look watery, full of emotion. "I was thinking it all over, when we caught up with each other on the sidewalk last night…"
"What? God, Jack. What were you going to tell me?"
He seems to have ignored my request. "But then you hugged me, and our fight was practically over, and you whispered in my ear that you wanted children more than anything. That you couldn't imagine not having them…"
"Yeah, I did." Please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me. Don't. I can't handle it.
Eyes blinking closed quickly, he's practically staring at the ground, until I cup his chin in my hand and force him to look me in the eye.
"When I said you didn't want kids before, it was true, alright? You just never wanted them that much, I'm sure you can remember that. It shouldn't be a surprise, really."
He's confusing the hell out of me, but I have a creeping feeling inside that I know what he's going to say, what he's trying so desperately to tell me in the right way.
"Kate, last night you told me that you couldn't imagine not having kids, and I didn't have the heart to tell you then that you- that you can't. You just can't," he mumbles, but I'm practically numb right now. "We found out a few days before your mom's wedding. That's why she said she was glad we let go for awhile."
I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about this. Am I supposed to be angry at Jack? At myself? Sad?
More like heartbroken.
