I've spoiled you with a super fast update because of the holiday, now you can spoil me by reviewing. :)
Talking to Walls
"Good, you finally answered."
It's my second conversation with Jack since I "moved" to Lucy's, which basically consisted of me throwing some clothes into my suitcase in a fit of rage. Okay, so I'm not the most rational person, I'll admit it. By now I've realized that I forgot some major things- underwear, deodorant, or any clothes other than sweats, really. And I would be lying if I said I had a problem buying all of these things and charging them on Jack's credit card. Ha.
Right now Jack can probably picture exactly what I'm doing; twirling a strand of my curly hair through my free hand, rolling my eyes at his countless attempts to be forgiven. "Never promised you anything," I tell him coolly. I hear him sigh and can't help but think that pretty soon his patience will run out and he'll be just as mad at me as I am at him. Maybe that would be easier.
"Well, just the same."
There's certain flatness in his voice, and I almost feel bad for him. "What do you need, Jack?" The thing is, I know he doesn't need anything from me. He just wants to talk, to try to convince me to move back with him. It's nice to know he cares, but doesn't he understand that what I need right now is space?
"I don't know. Just to hear your voice, I guess. Is that such a bad thing?"
Certainly I've never felt so needed in my entire life. Even though at the moment I feel like a completely useless individual, (hell, I'm the chick who can't remember part of my life and can't seem to deal with anything like a rational, functioning adult) Jack- he still needs me. I still mean something to him, though just what that is I'm not sure.
"No, guess not," I mumble. "But the whole point of this- of me getting out of the apartment for awhile is for me to think some things over, without you, and you calling me all the time…"
He laughs, and it seems genuine. What the hell? I haven't said anything funny! "Kate, I'm not going to stop, so you might as well give it up now."
Great. Now I'm the girl who can't remember anything, who can't have kids, and who has a stalker for a husband. Just great. I should be on Dateline or something.
"Well I just won't answer then," I stutter out. There, that showed him.
"Yeah," he says, "because that's worked out just great for you." He laughs again, but this time we fall into a silence that somehow turns into something comfortable, like when he grins at me reassuringly or gives me a big hug after a long day.
"There has to be something else I did wrong," he finally says. "I mean, I know that I should've been more forward with you about all of the fertility stuff, but that can't be it, right?"
'He should've been more forward about all the fertility stuff' is putting it lightly. "No, Jack, that's about it actually." Is this man dense? How did he become a doctor?
Sometimes, just like my mom always used to say, I feel like I'm talking to a wall- a very hot wall, but a wall nonetheless.
"Nah," he disagrees, "I think you're just afraid of us. I think you're afraid to start our life all over again, and-"
This guy has balls, telling me what I've done wrong and that I'm the problem? "Jack, please," I tell him in my sternest voice.
"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" he asks, though it's more of a statement. "It's me."
Maybe he's right- maybe I really I am just afraid of what my life could turn into, that if I start shaping it into something, one day I'll wake up and remember everything how it was before, and then I'll have to do this all over again. I don't want to have to do this all over again, because apparently, I can't even do it to begin with. It's not Jack that I'm afraid of. I'm mostly afraid of myself and for myself.
But instead of telling him all of this, I nod my head into the phone, even though he can't see. My pause tells him everything. "I just… " Shit, I don't know how to say this. "When I came home with you, you were a complete stranger who I had to get to know, only I didn't really get to know you that well before I just… trusted you. Just like that." I snap my fingers into the receiver as I say this.
Jack projects an uncertain, nervous laugh. "I don't see why that's a bad thing, Kate. I'm glad that you trust me…"
"That's the thing… I don't really anymore, not after the whole baby thing. It's just- I need to learn how to trust you again, okay?"
I know that I must have just stomped all over his heart, but maybe he'll feel just a fraction of what I feel.
He's silent once again, save for the steadiness of his breathing. "Okay?" I repeat, willing him to say something, anything.
"Yeah," he mumbles softly. "Okay."
After I've hung up with Jack, my phone buzzes once again. My mother's smiling face appears on the caller ID and I jump, not sure how or why I have a picture of her on my phone. She's creeping me out.
"Come over for dinner," she tells me after our standard jibber jabber. "It's probably none of my business, but Lucy's told me everything that's going on with you and Jack."
Great. Just the person I need to talk to, the woman who seems to make me think about my problems even more. But I agree anyway, because that's the type of person I am.
"I don't think he meant to hurt you," Rob rationalizes half an hour later, stirring his drink while mom chops up some vegetables. She made it seem like she'd be full of advice, but so far all mom's done is ask me if I've been getting enough sleep, and if I'm not careful, the bags under my eyes will stick there permanently. I decide not to tell her that I've been sleeping on a saggy pull out couch for the past five days.
I like Rob so much more than I ever imagined I could. Sometimes, as horrible as it sounds, I've found myself thinking that I like Rob more than my own mother. I'm such a terrible person and it makes me feel like maybe I deserve everything that's happening to me. But then again, I guess like is different than love, because I don't love Rob, but I certainly love my mother, no matter how irritating she can be. This all reminds me of Jack, who I know I don't love- at least not yet. He's a nice guy, and I could see myself falling for him even further than I have, but it's certainly not love.
"That's the thing, Rob. He did it because he didn't want to hurt me, but that just makes me wonder what else he's holding back, like one day he's gonna drop another bombshell on me."
Rob shakes his head, squinting his eyes down at the newspaper. "I don't know what else to tell ya, kid, other than the two of you had it pretty good. That's gotta be worth something."
"Hey Rob, will you set the table for me please?" my mother calls from the kitchen counter.
He shrugs and looks at me again. "My advice, and it's only that… you two don't need to be apart right now-"
"Rob!" she yells again. "I swear, it's like I'm talking to a wall!" I hear her mutter.
Oh God. It's finally happening again.
"Jack, shut up, I'm trying to play!"
He rolls his eyes and tries to tug my hand away from the lever. "This is such a waste of time! Those things are rigged!" he tells me, looking pointedly at the slot machine in front of me, still resting his hand on top of mine.
"I don't care, snugglemuffins, I'm playing." I put the coins in and close my eyes tightly. We don't really need the money- I'd rather just prove Jack wrong.
"Are you sure?" he taunts me, standing tightly behind me and moving his arms forward so they rest on my outstretched ones. His breath is on my ear, and he knows he's getting to me, that it always gets to me.
I nod. "Fairly. I'm not listening to the guy who just lost 400 bucks in chips," I smirk. "And besides," I wiggle my eyebrows up and down at him, "you've already gotten plenty lucky here, wouldn't you agree?"
He shrugs. "Maybe, but I think I have one more streak in me. This is Vegas," Jack laughs, kissing the side of my neck and brushing his stubble against it. "Give it a go."
I pull down hard on the lever, watching the symbols appear one by one, until there are three shapes lined up next to each other. I smirk, then spin around in the stool and pull Jack at the hips. "Look who just made us 800 bucks richer. Guess it was rigged, huh?" I laugh, as he leans down and wraps his arms around me, picking me up.
He kisses me, long and hard, too long for being the middle of a casino. He nips at my lips, and as good as it feels, I break away. "Jack," I whisper, my voice hitching high with a small laugh. "People are staring."
He gives me a peck on the lips and sets me down. "I'd stare too," he smiles. He kisses me again, and I know I'm only getting a preview of what's to come, once we abandon the casino and head back up to the room, but I'm embarrassed.
"Jack, God, it's like I'm talking to a wall… Let's save this for upstairs, yeah?"
He rolls his eyes at the expression. "Oh, come on, Kate. If I remember right, you can't resist this wall." He points to himself and plays up the smirk on his face. "You can't keep your hands off it, you talk naughty to it," he teases, trailing his fingertips lightly up and down my hips.
"Shut up," I smile, tugging on his hands and leading him into the elevator, "or the wall won't get lucky tonight."
It stops right there. I can't remember anything else. But for now, it's enough. I can't seem to tell mom and Rob what I've remembered, not only because it's kind of, uhh… promiscuous, but because I'm not sure I'll tell anyone. What if I tell Jack about it and it's not quite as I think it is? What if there was some terrible thing that happened that weekend that will tarnish my happy memory?
I excuse myself shortly after dinner, telling mom I'm too tired and that I don't want the bags under my eyes to stay put. Of course she buys it.
"You got a letter!" Lucy shouts as I slam the door shut behind me. She startles me, and even though we've lived together before, I don't remember her being this loud.
She stuffs it into my outreached palm and I lay down on the couch, the puppy jumping onto my lap almost immediately. At least someone's happy to see me. Scanning over the front of the cream colored envelope, I immediately recognize the small scrawled handwriting written in black ink. No nonsense. That's Jack.
It's a single sheet of paper, folded into thirds, the dark ink staining through the back of the paper.
Kate,
You'll be getting one of these letters every day, until I've said enough, or until I've said everything- your choice.
One time we fought for five days over where we'd go on vacation. You won. We went to Vegas.
You're the most stubborn person I've ever met, but I wouldn't want it any other way.
The day we found out we couldn't have kids- it wasn't just the hardest day of your life. It was the hardest day of mine, too.
Have you noticed that scar on your left knee? I did that to you, the morning after our seventh date. You hit your knee on the bedside table. You can probably guess how.
By our fifth, I knew I wanted to marry you.
I've only seen you cry eight times. Three of those have been since the accident.
On the weekends you won't let me out of bed until at least 9:30.
You've always wanted to name our next dog Eggo. Hope this helps.
And every morning when I wake up, I wonder if it'll be the day that you remember me.