Every morning at sunrise, Ana began the day with a run through her neighborhood. Her usual reward for this exertion was a stop at the Yellow Dot, a coffee shop near the radio station where she worked. Aside from the best coffee, the busy cafe had the best deli sandwiches and pastries in the area.
As the shop came into view, she felt short of breath. She bent down, hands on knees, her hair swinging about her face. She fumbled for her inhaler. Two puffs later, and voila, her airways opened. She took in a long breath and filled her lungs with crisp winter air.
Asthma was a paradox; on the surface, exercise appeared to worsen symptoms. Yet, in the long run, one of the greatest benefits of exercise was improved lung function.
With her breathing capacity fully restored, she ordered a cappuccino and found a bistro table near the bank of windows. She unlocked her phone to check for messages. There were a couple of emails from her mom and dad, but nothing that couldn't wait.
She thought about what she needed to accomplish that day and which tasks she should prioritize. These few moments of quietude and reflection always provided a focused start to her day.
The cacophony of a horn and screeching tires pulled her from her thoughts. Traffic was light; there were few pedestrians. The commotion was caused by a lady jaywalking with her small Chihuahua. Fortunately, the car stopped in time, and no one was hurt.
Just as she had, the other shop patrons had turned their attention toward the noise. After the brief excitement, they went back to their phones and laptops, or hurried along to their work commitments. Most of the shop's regular customers worked at the nearby hospital and were generally pressed for time.
Ana used her coffee time to not only reflect on the day ahead, but also to count her blessings. Gratitude increased her happiness. She knew this not only from personal experience, but also from her studies in clinical psychology.
Her schedule was always full. Today was a rare day when she didn't have class. Her job at KKAV Talk Radio was Monday through Friday from four until ten, so she was grateful for a day when she could catch up on assignments and do errands. The radio job was a blessing bestowed upon her by Eamon Kavanagh, her best friend's father. He was a media mogul and KKAV was part of his empire. The radio job worked around her graduate school classes and practicums.
Ana checked her phone for the time.
Where is he? He's the one who asked for this meeting, not the other way around. If he wanted to see me, he should be here.
Her boyfriend was late. Very late.
Things hadn't been going well for Jack and with Jack.
He'd come around a couple of days before Christmas, collected the gifts she had for him, and departed within an hour's time. She'd spent Christmas in Montesano with family. She'd hoped he would make New Year's Eve plans with her, but she spent the evening alone, watching old movies and eating rubbish.
When her bestie, Kate, heard about this, she was angry at his treatment of Ana.
"Read the signs. Something's not right," she'd told her. "You're too close to the problem to see it right now."
She knew what Kate meant.
Here she was, soon to have her master's degree and licensure as a therapist, but she couldn't seem to sort out her own problems.
"If Jack were my boyfriend," Kate had said with a shudder, "and he treated me the way he's treating you, what would you think?"
Her best friend was usually right about men, but Ana had initially dismissed Kate's warnings, believing it was simply a personality clash between Kate and Jack. Kate always seemed insensitive to his problems. Her friend and her boyfriend just couldn't seem to get along.
But now Ana had her own doubts. She'd grown tired of considering Jack and his issues.
With a deep sigh, she pulled out her phone. Scrolling the Gram always provided a distraction from problems.
Sometime later, a bell jingled merrily, and a wave of customers rushed in.
Ana briefly glanced up from her phone and squinted against the sunlight.
No sign of Jack.
Looking at the time, she realized in shock that she'd been waiting for over a half hour. Steaming with frustration, she dialed his number, but he didn't answer. Not for the first time, she wondered about what kind of future awaited her with Jack.
He's just going through a rough patch, Ana reminded herself. I should be patient.
She and Jack had a long, tumultuous history. They'd been together off and on for two years now. In that time, Jack had been laid off three times for various reasons.
Loyalty was important to her. She was trying her best to be understanding and stick it out. But really, how much longer could she keep supporting her boyfriend's ridiculous identification with Picasso?
Jack liked to believe he shared a cosmic connection to the artist because they'd both had near-death experiences at birth. According to legend, the famous artist was declared dead minutes after birth. But his uncle, who also happened to be a qualified doctor, blew cigar smoke into the face of the future genius. Little Picasso breathed in the smoke, and his lungs miraculously filled with life.
Every time he made reference to the story, the implication was clear. Jack was none other than the next Picasso.
Ana had once referred to Jack as an incorrigible dreamer, but Kate had scoffed at the idea.
"Your boyfriend is in denial of reality," she'd said.
She remembered the night she'd invited him over to celebrate her birthday, along with her parents and a few close friends. He didn't bring a gift, a card, or even a bottle of wine.
She wasn't an acquisitive person. She only wanted her boyfriend to acknowledge her birthday. When she commented on his inability to give, he put her down with cruel words and accusations.
"Ana!" Jack appeared out of nowhere, planting a kiss on her lips. "Sorry, I'm late."
"Uh-huh," she said, her voice flat and filled with defeat.
"Want another coffee?" he asked, poised to approach the counter.
"Sure," she said, not really caring one way or the other.
While Jack was gone ordering, she went back to her phone. But she couldn't focus. And by the time Jack returned, she noticed with alarm that she resented the interruption of his presence. Not only that, but she felt absolutely no desire at all to speak to him.
"How did the interview go?" She asked, forcing herself to be polite and show interest in her companion.
"I didn't go."
"What?" She drew in a slow, steady breath, afraid she'd go off on him. Her jaw clenched and she accidentally bit the inside of her cheek.
"Don't look at me like that. You're worse than the fat lady at the agency," he exhaled deeply and wrinkled his nose. "She thinks she's doing me a favor...all smug and superior, like I'm something she needs to scrape off the bottom of her shoe."
"Jack, you can't keep drawing unemployment forever." Suddenly, he seemed to have aged a decade, and she absolutely hated his 90's Joey Tribbiani attire. Maybe she was being too judgmental about the clothes, a result of having watched entirely too many 'Friends' reruns.
"It's been a stressful day," he said.
He casually pulled out a pack of cigarettes, put one to his lips, and lit it.
Has he lost his ever-loving mind?
"It's against city ordinance to smoke indoors. Put that out. Now."
"Fine," he said. With an indignant huff, he pulled the napkin from beneath her cup and tamped out the cigarette.
"I thought you quit."
She felt disrespected, unseen.
How many times did they need to have this conversation? Second-hand smoke was a powerful trigger of asthma symptoms.
He seemed to care nothing for her well-being.
"It's an on and off kind of thing," he said.
Yeah, sort of like our relationship, she thought.
"You cannot keep drawing unemployment." She hated sounding like his mother.
This time she was not giving him a pass.
"What's the harm? If I play my cards right, I can keep this up till I get my social security benefits," he grinned. His eyes were impossibly proud, and he resembled Joey Tribbiani at his most hair-brained.
"Please tell me you're kidding." Many times Ana had doubts as to Jack being marriage material, but she always held out hope that he'd become an adult. If he thought she was going to support him, he had another thing coming.
Although she wasn't struggling financially, she lived the life of a graduate student who carried a hefty amount of student loan debt. The radio show paid just enough to cover bills, but certainly not enough to build a nest egg or put into savings.
"I thought you understood me." He gave her a wounded look. "I'm not goldbricking. I'm working on my art."
"Jack," Ana said in a stern voice, surprising herself. All along, she'd been supportive of him. But she had to draw the line somewhere. "I can't...I just can't..." She trailed off in frustration.
Was it just her imagination, or did Joey turn increasingly dim-witted with each season?
"Babe." The wounded look he gave her was designed to stir up guilt. "I thought you understood me better than anyone else. You, more than anyone, know what I've been through."
Jack was animated as he retold the misfortunes he'd suffered. Ana pursed her lips while she listened, wanting to tell him to grow up once and for all.
As she listened to him drone on for what seemed like forever, she heard only the ticking of her biological clock. Every minute that passed, the sound became more deafening, like the delayed timing device on a bomb. She was turning twenty-seven next month, and she wanted a large family. Two girls and two boys to make up for what she missed as an only child.
As it was, she'd already invested two years into this relationship. Their relationship was a perfect example of the law of diminishing returns.
"I think we should move in together," he said, "this summer, once you get your license and you're working full-time."
He can't be serious, she thought. I am no man's meal ticket.
She stared at him, speechless.
"I'm gonna go drain the snake. You have a think and we'll discuss it when I get back."
Could he be any more disgusting? With astonishing clarity, she knew what she had to do.
As she watched him retreat to the restroom, she tried to remember what she'd ever found attractive about him.
The bell above the door tinkled again, and reflexively she looked up in expectation.
At first glance, the copper-haired man who entered the Yellow Dot blended with every other customer. But the scrubs he wore under his down jacket and his brisk demeanor suggested he was one of the over-worked hospital personnel. They were always in a hurry, grabbing meals on the run after skipping a meal or two.
There was something intense about this man. The moment his gray eyes met hers, Ana was mesmerized. The connection between them felt potent, strong.
Her eyes held his, and she forgot to breathe. His gray orbs dropped to her chest, fixated ever-so-briefly on the point where a gold chain rested between her breasts, then back to her eyes again.
She instinctively touched the lucky horseshoe charm that hung from the chain.
Her cheeks felt warm and she felt self-conscious under his gaze. The intensity of the encounter made her turn away from the brazen man.
Lord, help me! What in heaven's name is wrong with me?
I'm romanticizing him, and I don't even know him, she chastised herself.
When she dared to look back, the hunk-in-scrubs was still fixed on her. He maintained eye contact with her as he stood in line. The person in front of him became agitated, something about a mix-up with their order. The hunk shook his head at something being said and turned to exchange yet another glance with her. He raised his eyebrows, lips slightly parted, and smiled, his body turned toward her and feet pointed in her direction.
Feeling bold, she raised her eyebrows back at him in clear invitation.
Soon enough, it was his turn to order. Ana welcomed the chance to check him out at leisure. His scrubs were form-fitting, especially around his high, round ass.
She imagined him turning around and asking, "Were you checking out my rear?"
She also imagined her response to that.
"It was hard not to," she would have replied, licking her lips.
When he began moving in her direction, coffee in hand, she felt an uneasy knot form in the pit of her belly. It was as if she'd swallowed a mass of butterflies, which were now flapping their wings wildly.
And then her heart sank. Handsome stopped in his tracks, as someone blocked her line of vision.
"Miss me?" Jack asked, slinking down into the chair.
She craned her neck, trying to see around Jack.
The captivating stranger had disappeared.
Her disappointment was seasoned with a pinch of guilt. Whatever she felt about Jack, she shouldn't go around lusting after strangers.
For heaven's sake, what are you doing flirting with another man? You should deal with the man in front of you before beginning to think about another.
"I don't think I can do this anymore," she said out loud, surprising herself. "I don't want to be with you anymore. I'm at a place that's difficult to explain, but I know it's the end of something, and I want to get out before I'm too old. Frankly, I find you exhausting."
"Babe, you're just tired from all those papers you have to write. We'll talk tomorrow, when you're feeling better."
Her words, which had required much courage on her part, had no effect.
Per usual, Jack was completely dismissive of her feelings.
She felt nothing for him as she watched him walk away.
Her heart was too busy inexplicably longing for the hunk-in-scrubs.
XXXXXXX
January 15, 2021
Gentle Reader:
This story represents our first efforts at collaborative writing. We hope you enjoy it. We don't have a set update schedule, but please be assured, we will update with as much regularity as our schedules allow. The story will not be neglected or abandoned.
"A Simple Wish" is a short story with short chapters. For our first collaboration, it was important to keep the project manageable.
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All the best, Carmelita and Paula