Chapter 13

What Happened To Your Face?

Jack sat at one of the tables at the Bistro, crunching numbers. He ran his thumb and forefinger along his lower jaw, grazing the stubble that had begun to grow there since his return from the mountains. Nothing added up and none of it made any sense. Things were bad, sure, but the stark dip in profit in the two weeks since his return from the mountains was alarming. 'What was going on?' he'd badgered himself. 'What was he doing wrong?'

The room was silent. Vicky had moved the majority of her belongings out the week prior, resettling into a chic condo closer to the airport – the one she'd dreamed of before she'd opted to settle for the small space above the Bistro with Jack. It was for the better. It was where she belonged, just like the Bistro, or what was left of it, was where he belonged. Aside from graciously helping her to move out her things (it'd go faster this way, he insisted), not much of his time had been spent in the presence of other people: a few customers, calls and a quick visit from Larry (he told him about the restaurant and Vicky, NOT about Janet), the mailman.

His conversations with Mr. Bradford had been brief, but he did not shy away from letting the old man have it. What did it matter anymore when he had nothing left to lose? Naturally, Mr. Bradford had refused to believe that his "little Victoria" could engage in an extramarital affair, placing the blame for the separation squarely on Jack's shoulders where he was certain it belonged.

"If you had only listened to me," he spat at Jack. "If you agreed to do the responsible thing and get a real job, then maybe none of this would have ever happened!"

"Oh, come on. Nobody is happier that all of this has happened than you and you know it!" Jack had spat right back.

And he was right. Mr. Bradford had had a hard time of holding back the hint of a gloat in his words.

But Vicky did make good on her word to speak to her father. While it was difficult to get him to sway much one way or the other, he'd agreed to sell the building to Jack if he could pay up.

He had one month, and two weeks had already passed.

Jack continued to stare blankly at the role of calculator tape that he held in his hands before crumbling it into a ball and tossing it toward the garbage can. His distracted aim was terrible, and it instead landed softly next to the telephone that sat on the bar in the corner.

The last time he saw Janet was the day of their return from their trip from hell. Both she and Phillip had insisted on helping Jack and Vicky bring their things inside, even though the latter two had insisted it wasn't necessary. Nobody said on word on the rest of the trip home, which somehow managed to go smoothly after the series of bumps in the road. When they'd all stepped out of Phillip's Mercedes, it was the first time Jack had managed to get a good look at Janet since their tense conversation near the edge of a cliff. He tried to search her eyes to gauge what she might have been thinking, but she averted his gaze as they hauled bags inside the back door of the Bistro. He had all but given up when Janet and Phillip had gotten back into the car, but Janet got out at the last minute. Vicky had left her sunglasses behind and she wanted to return them.

By then Vicky had already gone upstairs, but Jack had remained in the kitchen, unsure exactly of how to go on with his life just like that. Janet tapped lightly on the door but entered before he'd responded, explaining the situation and handing him the sunglasses. Jack gently took them from her hands. Janet began to turn away to avoid further interaction, but he stopped her in her tracks by calling her name.

"Uh...I..." he sputtered, swallowed hard, then let out a deep sigh. His words were slow and methodical. "I know now isn't the time Janet but..."

She turned around and looked at him. "Look, Jack, whatever it is you're going to say..." It was her turn to sigh. "Let me first just say that I'm sorry. For all of this. For dragging you into this. I feel like I've ruined both of our lives and –"

His brow furrowed. "You didn't ruin my life," he moved closer to her and gently squeezed her elbow. "On the contrary, Janet, somehow now everything seems a lot clearer."

She looked up and nodded at him sorrowfully. It wasn't that she didn't understand what he was saying, only that she wasn't ready to hear it just yet.

"We need to talk," he said.

"I know. I know we do, Jack, but..." she paused and the sound of the motor on the Mercedes running filled the silence.

"But not right now," Jack finished for her.

"Yeah," she said, barely above a whisper as she forced a smile.

She had agreed to call him when she was ready to talk. That was two weeks ago now and no call had come.

...

"Are you...sure you don't want to accompany me to the airport?" Phillip had asked a few days ago before he'd left for Manhattan, a little dejected. "You always accompany me to the airport."

"Yes, well, that was before you slept with another woman," Janet had retorted with a defiant smile, the sarcasm heavily apparent in her voice despite the look on her face.

The pleading smile on Phillip's face remained while draining from his eyes. "I deserved that."

"Yes."

"Well." He paused awkwardly and looked down at his shoes. "You still have your own plane ticket when you're ready?"

"I do, yes."

"Then in that case," he leaned in to kiss her, but she turned so that the kiss landed on her cheek. He pulled back. "Uh, in that case, I'll see you soon. Okay?"

She stopped and stared out the door, focusing on nothing in particular. Her mind wandered to the past few days since their return from the trip. It had been full of pleading and bickering and outright yelling (the latter all on the part of Janet, who during one bout of it had revealed to Phillip that she knew about the apartment in the city). Finally resolving that neither of them were getting anywhere, they'd decided that perhaps it was best to spend some time away from each other. Phillip would go to that apartment on the upper east side, and he'd wait for her to join him when they'd had some time to process their feelings alone. She'd told him that she'd think about it and he'd decided not to press his luck any further.

But few of her thoughts in the week or so that followed had been focused on Phillip, or airline tickets, or apartments. Instead, as she sat at the kitchen table one day with her head in her hands, her mind kept wandering to Jack, and the call that she was supposed to make to Jack, and what on earth she was supposed to say to Jack.

She could go the route she'd been going. 'Why now?' she could ask him. Why was everything coming out now, when she was married, instead of during the seven years that they'd spent every waking minute of their lives together? But she already knew the answer to that. There were rules – rules that she'd established – and they couldn't break them.

Or she could tell him that deep down, she'd only made that stupid rule to protect herself and everyone around her. And that if, in the end, he'd broken it...if he'd just confess his undying love for her, then god dammit maybe she would have just let him.

Maybe.

Or maybe she could tell him, at long last, that Phillip had been a last-ditch effort to make him jealous. Wasn't that really it? That Phillip was only a boyfriend and she'd liked him well enough, but if she weren't losing hope that Jack would ever say anything, or giving in to fear that she was getting older and running out of options, that she'd have stayed right where she was and never have gotten married in the first place?

But if Janet admitted all of this, she'd have to admit she'd been wrong – something that she was very, very bad at doing. And what's more, she'd have to be vulnerable in front of Jack, and that was something she was even worse at doing yet.

"We need to talk."

'About what, Jack?' she argued with him in her head (she did that a lot lately). 'The trials and tribulations of divorce?'

About how much I care for you, you stupid, stupid idiot?

She couldn't. She couldn't!

Her eyes caught the airline ticket that sat on the table in the foyer underneath the bowl with the keys. She found herself holding her breath as she focused on the slip of paper and willed her mind to stop running.

And then the phone rang.

She panicked. Was it Jack? She couldn't talk to him yet. Phillip? He'd promised to leave her in peace. The phone continued to ring, the sharp sound somehow growing louder and louder with each burst. Her hands clenched until an exasperated groan grew from within and she picked up the damned thing just as the caller was about to hang up.

"Hello?" There was a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

"Janet, it's bad. Real bad. Ya gotta do something. The man doesn't even sound like himself. I asked him if he wanted to go to the Beagle for karaoke night, right? Goldie Edgewater always gets up there and Janet, people don't throw their undergarments at her, she throws hers at the audience. Basically, it's always a good time. So I asked him, I said Jack, I know you're feeling down because of Vicky, so why don't you and I – "

"Hold it, hold it, hold it! ...Larry?"

"Yeah, who'd you think it was? Anyway, the guy kind of just grunts. Doesn't say much. I go down to the restaurant. The place is deserted. I don't know what happened, but apparently he's in some sort of bind. He wouldn't give me any details – just kind of sat there growing a beard which is always a bad sign – but I passed Vicky with her handful of boxes (I never liked her, but I helped her out anyway). She spilled everything and I guess old man Bradford is holding the place hostage. Either Jack buys the Bistro, or he's out on his ass. Can you believe that? So I – "

"Larry, my god, will you slow down for a second!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! He's just got me real worried, ya know? I didn't know who else to call."

Janet could sense the sincerity in his voice. She paused for a moment to roll back and process exactly what it was that Larry had just said. Karaoke night. Goldie Edgewater. A beard? The gears ground to a halt and clicked into place.

"Wait...what did you say about the bistro?"

"Bradford wants out. I can't say I blame him, though. Business seems like it's been real lousy. But – "

"Larry!"

He sighed. "Look, you should go down there, Janet. Maybe you could put him in better spirits. You were always the best at that when it came to him."

She felt a lump welling in her chest as she processed Jack's predicament, but Larry's final words were not lost on her. How long had this been going on? Did Mr. Bradford just drop this news on Jack, or had he known all this time? She couldn't fathom the amount of pain this was causing him, and she suddenly didn't care about her need for time or space any longer. The phone that she didn't bother to hang up fell from her hands before she rushed to the table on which the airline ticket sat. She pushed it aside and picked up the keys before rushing out the door, the faint sound of Larry's "hellos" questioning dead air coming from the kitchen.

...

Janet stood across the street from Jack's Bistro, hesitant to take another step further. To the casual observer, nothing looked particularly amiss about the place. The same curtains that Terri had sewed four years ago still adorned the windows, which bore the same logo they had all painstakingly chosen together – her, Terri, Larry, Furley, and Jack. The lights were dim and she could not see inside, but she knew the very same floral wallpaper she'd picked out still stuck to the interior walls, and at the far end hung the picture of the Eiffel Tower that she'd struck a deal on at a local flea market.

The only major difference, really, was that it was a Saturday evening and the neon "open" sign sat dim in the window.

"Oh, Jack, why didn't you tell me?" she muttered to herself before the light changed and she finally moved to cross the street.

Jack didn't hear the first knock at the front door because he was not in the restaurant. Instead, he sat firmly planted on the couch in the apartment upstairs, surrounded by a generous nest of blankets and pillows. The coffee table in front of him was covered in tubs of Chinese food, the result of Jack's recent loss of the will to cook anything. His eyes were glued to the TV, dead aside from the occasional turn toward anger when the guy on Family Feud guessed incorrectly.

"You don't take a turkey to a beach, you friggen idiot," he mumbled at the set before taking a swig of something unidentifiable followed by a grumbled burp. His first instinct when he first heard the gentle tap was to ignore it and curl deeper into his makeshift depression nest.

"Suntan lotion," he yelled again as the tap grew louder.

It took another set of taps to make him realize they were real, and it took great effort to pry his heavy body from its place of rest. He grumbled as he made his way to the door, and grumbled again as he opened it, walked down the stairs, and toward the tapping that came from the other side of the bistro's back door.

"Look, Larry," he said with annoyance in his voice as he placed his hand on the knob and turned it. "I told you I'm not in the mood to – "

But the face that awaited him after he swung the door open was not Larry's. Instead, Janet pursed her lips in a weak smile as she looked up at him, waiting to be invited inside.

"Janet," he exclaimed, unable to conceal his surprise.

"Hi, Jack," she replied softly as she fidgeted with the handle of her purse. "Can I come in?"

"Um...uh, yeah!" he stuttered, gathering himself. "Come right on in."

She eyed him for a moment. "What happened to your face?"

He rubbed his fingers over the hairs on his chin and jawline, then shrugged. "I wasn't in the mood to shave."

"Oh," she stated with no hint of an undertone. At least it was real this time, she considered, and thought nothing further of it.

She meandered the kitchen slowly, eyeing the room as Jack went to shut the door. Nothing seemed amiss so much as it seemed...unused. She mindlessly placed two fingers on one of the refrigerator doors as if doing so would somehow heal the place. Jack's voice caused her to turn back around.

"What?" she asked.

"I said I...I didn't think you were ever going to come." He paused and stared at the floor. "I was sure you'd left for New York by now."

Her eyes melted in response to his words. "Oh...oh, Jack, I'm sorry I didn't call sooner I just. I don't know, I – " her fingers went back to the strap of her purse, twisting and plying it in an effort to release some of the anxiety that was building inside of her. She looked up into his eyes and put on her defiant, serious business voice. "Why didn't you tell me about Mr. Bradford was doing to you?"

His eyes dropped and he sighed. "Is that why you came?"

"Larry just called and told me everything. I had to. I had to see if you were alright."

"Well if you must know, then I'm perfectly fine, okay?" he affirmed, putting on a fake tough voice before banging a fist on the kitchen door and making his way through to the restaurant proper.

"Jack!" Janet cried after him and followed him into the other room.

"Look, Janet, if you just came down here because you feel sorry for me, then I have nothing to say. I don't want your pity."

"Oh, now, hold on just a minute Jack. I think you should know by now that I know you well enough to know that you're a stubborn, prideful, pain in the neck. And because I know that, I know that instead of fighting this, you'd be curled up in a ball on your couch, moping and lamenting the poor luck that you, and only you personally, have ever experienced, and taking it out on everyone else around you. Including the TV."

He turned to look at her, stunned.

"Does that sound about right?"

"I...that is...that is the most...how dare you come over here and...how do you know that I...okay, first of all..."

"Enough, Jack," she briefly clasped her eyes shut in frustration. "How much is he asking?"

"What?"

"How much is Mr. Bradford asking?"

"I don't see why that's any of your - "

"Jack."

He gritted his teeth defiantly at first, then repeated the same number back to Janet that Bradford had mentioned to him two weeks ago. His voice grew into a whimper as he said it, and he fell down defeated into the nearest chair.

"He raised it that much?" she asked incredulously, then angrily.

Jack nodded behind his hands which now covered his face.

Janet released her sudden anger in a sigh, then walked over to Jack and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well," she began affirmatively. "I suppose I could try and get him down a bit. But if he's unwilling to compromise, then I guess we'll just have to pay it. Whatever it takes."

He pulled his face out from behind his hands and looked up at her. "We...we'll pay it? You mean, like you and me? The both of us? Together?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well of course, dummy, it's not like you were going to be able to afford it on your own."

"But how are you going to come up with – "

"Don't you worry about that. I have ways."

He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at her for a moment before his mind traveled. "Janet," his voice turned to feigned disgust, as if to imply that her "ways" were uncouth and unbecoming of a lady.

"Oh, Jack, grow up!" she scolded him, but a small smile formed on her face because she knew that Jack's little jokes were a good sign.

"But how-"

"Don't worry about that right now. What you need to do now is to just focus on getting this place back up and running. Did you think closing the restaurant prematurely was going to fix anything?"

"Well, no, but – "

"Well then get going! You have resources at your disposal, Jack. Your best friend is a used car salesman, for crying out loud. If anyone can draw in customers, it's him." She fibbed a bit at that last part, but it was for a good cause.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he considered her words. "Well...I guess, but –"

"And, hey, you know what? What a great excuse to get the gang back together. Just like we did last time to get this place up and running. I haven't seen Furley in a while. And Terri is due for another visit and –"

She stopped when she turned around and saw the look on Jack's face. There was no other way to describe it other than pure, awestruck admiration and love radiating from passionately expressive eyes.

"What?" she forced a small, self-conscious chuckle, feeling slightly uncomfortable and a bit dizzy all of a sudden.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make everything all...better."

She blushed. "Gosh, Jack... all I'm really doing is..." She fidgeted again. She couldn't stop fidgeting. "Well, this place means a lot to me, too. Ya know? Because it means a lot to you."

The same awestruck smile remained on his face, and he couldn't help but walk over to her and give her a peck on the lips, just as they had done so many times before during moments like this, just like it was nothing at all. Before.

When she had kissed him in the lake, those same memories came flooding back. It didn't matter that it was a ruse or that she didn't mean it, all that mattered was that he was close to Janet again. His Janet.

But he had been filled with a tinge of guilt for feeling it – like he had done something wrong for allowing himself to feel anything. She had a husband. He had Vicky.

Not anymore. There was no longer a barrier – no rules between roommates, no significant others in their way. Surely her decision to stay in town meant as much.

They pulled away and smiled at one another nonchalantly. Just as they'd always done. Nothing was any different.

Until it was.

The innocent smiles on their faces steadily grew into desire as the impact of the gesture flooding the gates of their memories sent shockwaves through both of their bodies. They both stared longingly into each other's eyes, which quickly made their way down to the other's lips. Perhaps it was really the beginning of an anxiety induced sigh, but Jack's lips were the first to part, which prompted Jack to respond in kind before falling up them, his light beard tickling her softly.

They breathed each other in. Janet's hands found their way to his chest, allowing her right to meander further up to rest on the back of his neck. She relaxed in his arms and he pulled her closer to him, holding nothing back, finally able to kiss her with the intensity and meaning that he'd always ached for. And she, finally allowing him to.

Both of them refused to come up for air. There was far too much lost time to make up for. It was unlike anything they had ever experienced together before, and they intended to make it last. Jack's hands were inching up her back now, through her hair, and along her jawline. He wanted to touch every part of her. He pried his lips from hers to run them along the side of her neck, which caused her to let out a sigh of pleasure. The sound caused him to smile and his lips were back on hers once more briefly before deigning to pull apart again, panting, foreheads touching, his hands still gently cradling the back of her head.

He couldn't read her. There was no concern in her face, but it was clear that her mind was racing. She pulled back slightly and gently raised the tips of her fingers to her mouth, as if to confirm what had just happened had really, actually happened. She glanced back up at him for a moment before running her hands through her hair. Her eyes began darting and it took a moment before she could form any real words.

"Shhhhit," she said, dragging out the "sh" and landing on a hard t, as if reacting not to what just happened but to something else entirely. "I'm still married." There was no tinge of emotion in her voice. She said it as if it were a matter of fact.

Jack's eyes clouded over, trying to determine what in the hell it was that she was getting at. "What?"

"Oh, Jack I...I've got so much to do. There's still so much to do." Her hand was running through her hair again before landing on her cheeks, pulling down on her skin in frustration. She looked at him. Her voice was still matter of fact, speaking words logically in an attempt to gain a grip. "I've got to go. I've really got to go."

"What?! But Janet..." he began to panic. Go. Now? Why go?

She turned around, stopped, then turned back. She walked over and kissed him gently on the cheek. "I meant what I said. About the money," she assured him, then turned back around and walked out the door, leaving Jack to stare on in disbelief.