Chapter 14
I Need To Find Her
Jack stared at the door that Janet had shut behind her only moments before, stunned. His legs felt like they were stuck in a block of cement, completely frozen into place. What had just happened? And was what had just happened...good? It took him a moment to harness the energy that his still pounding heart offered him, and he began to inch steadily forward as if he were floating in a hazy dream – trying everything he can to move but some unseen force is blocking his way. It seemed to be hours – years maybe – before his hand landed on the door's handle, another eon still before it clicked open. He heard himself calling her name, but by that point she had already gone.
His mind began to wander. Why would she just leave like that? After...that? He could still feel her lips on his – how it had felt so foreign and so familiar at the same time. How could she just kiss him the way that she'd kissed him and then walk away?
She was probably headed back to her place. He had to go after her. He couldn't risk her doing something stupid – cutting him off the way he'd cut her off, going to New York, going back to Phillip. His mind ran. Why else would she leave? Was she mad that he'd kissed her? Had he blown everything?
He hadn't thought twice when he'd made a move. He couldn't have. If he did, he wouldn't have done it. Thinking had a way of ruining everything, of putting everything on hold and then squashing it to smithereens. They'd both thought far too much for nearly ten years and look where it had gotten them.
He'd be damned if he allowed himself to let either one of them get away with 'thinking' anymore. He had to go after her, and fast.
He ran back through the kitchen and moved to open the back door and it immediately collided with his face, knocking him to the ground. He heard Larry's voice before he could collect himself to shake the swirling lights that clouded his vision.
"Jack! Jack, are ya here!?" he cried, which prompted Jack to reply with a groan from the floor on which he lay. Larry's eyes finally spotted him. "What are you doing?"
Jack groaned again, angrily this time with one eye glaring at Larry and the other hidden under the palm that pressed against it to dull the pressure.
"What the hell are you doing on the floor?" he asked, offering an arm out to Jack before pulling him up.
"If you must know, Larry, I was trying to leave. I have some very...um...important business to attend to."
"Now?" Larry asked incredulously. "What happened to being depressed?"
"I am not depressed," Jack muttered, trying to adjust his nose back into place. "I had a momentary setback. And I'm in a hurry so if you'd just – " he began, attempting to move around the man.
"Yeah, well that scruff on your face says otherwise."
"Larry – "
"Seriously, you should do something about that. But listen, I've been trying to think of ways to cheer you up. And I got to thinking. If he won't go out and join the party, why don't I bring the party to him?"
"Larry, I'm trying to – " Jack cut himself off. "What? W-what...Larry, what did you do? What party, Larry?"
Larry snapped his fingers. "Ladies."
"Oh no, Larry..." Jack began, but his voice was soon cut off by two giggling blondes with acoustic guitars strapped to their generous chests.
"Introducing two shining gems, the cream of the crop, the top of the heap...the cheapest I could find," he confessed on that last part. "Santa Monica's very own sister act, the Mundy sisters, Paulette and Maxine! Ayyooo!"
Larry clapped as he stepped aside and gave a round of applause, completely ignoring the fact that Jack's head was now in his hands.
"Hiya, Jack! I'm Paulette!"
"And I'm Maxine!"
"And we heard you were feeling really down!" the first sister said in an exaggerated sympathetic tone.
"Do you know what I like when I'm feeling down Paulette?"
"What's that, Maxine?"
"Singin' my most favorite songs!"
"What's your favorite song?"
"You know the one!"
"I don't think I remember! Could you give me a little hint?"
"Come on, guess!"
"Is it 'Singin' in the Rain?"
"Nope! Guess again!"
"What about Moon River?"
"Uh uh. Still wrong!"
"Is it –"
"Tell her the song, Maxine!" Jack growled between his fingers before they could drag this out any longer.
"And it goes a little something like this!" she responded, completely ignoring him. The two girls picked up their guitars and sang.
"I've got a fever!" Maxine.
"An inflammation!" Paulette.
"That's what I got!"
"You turn the heat on me!"
"Together!" one yelled before joining the other. "Some like it hot!"
Jack's eyes landed heavily on Larry, who was snapping his fingers along to the beat.
"Look what you started!"
"A conflagration!"
"Alright, alright. Ladies. Thanks for stopping by but this really is not the time," Jack gently shooed them out of the door amid disappointed protests from the girls, unable to bear it any longer. "Thank you so much. You're both very talented. Really spectacular. Okay. Bye now." He shut the door behind him and shot daggers at Larry.
"Hey! I paid good money for that act!"
"Larry," Jack began, trying to compose himself. He took a breath and spoke slowly. "Look, if you must know..." he sighed. "The reason I've been acting...strange lately. It's because of...a girl. Okay? And I really don't want to talk about it right now because –"
"Oh man, not Vicky," Larry jumped in, rolling his eyes. "You made the right choice, pal. Let her go."
Jack sighed again, trying to maintain himself. "It's not Vicky."
A smirk creeped onto Larry's face. "Oh ho ho. So that's why you two split up. Another woman, huh? Who is it, Jack? Greedy? Ah, I always knew you two would be end game. How'd it happen? You lock eyes across the room? Both of you overcome with so much lust that you –"
"Larry, it's not Greedy. It's not – look, the whole point is that I have to go because she just walked right out the door and if I don't go after her I might lose her forever. So if you don't mind, I really, really have to go."
"Alright, alright!" Larry relented, then paused. "You're not gonna go after her looking like that are you?"
"Like what?!"
"Like you're John Grizzly Adams."
Jack was growing increasingly annoyed. "It's a light stubble, Larry."
"It doesn't matter to women, Jack. If you don't put in the effort, it's like telling her that you don't care. A lady likes her man coifed and trimmed. You know, aside from a few designated areas where a man is allowed to be a man," he added, patting the shirt that covered his famously hairy chest.
Jack's thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of his nose. He was in no way of the mindset to listen to Larry's inane advice. To hell with it, he thought. "I'm not running after a lady, Larry, okay? I'm running after Janet!"
"What does Janet have to do with anything? And by the way, if you hear from her, tell her it's rude to leave a guy hanging on the phone."
"Larry," Jack stopped him, trying to prove a point with a facial expression.
"What?" He wasn't getting it.
He hesitated briefly, unsure of how his friend would react and not in the mood for anything negative. "It's Janet, Larry."
Another moment, and then it did sink in. Larry's eyes gradually widened. "Janet? Janet, Janet?"
Jack inhaled, then slowly exhaled. "Look, I don't have any time to explain. Something just happened and...I have to figure out what it was because..." Another breath, slowly, in and out. "Because I think I'm in love with her. I mean I am I...I think I always have been."
Larry's eyes were still the size of saucers, focused on nothing in particular. He looked back at Jack. "Janet Wood, Janet?"
Jack nodded.
"Huh!" Larry put his hands on his hips and began nodding as the information set in. "Yeah." He looked at Jack. "You know what? Yeah! Sure! Why the hell not? How 'bout that. Janet."
Jack produced a thin-lipped smile as he tried to squelch the anxiety that grew with each passing moment that he stood there with Larry and not with Janet.
Larry's face furrowed up again in realization. "Married Janet."
"Well, hopefully not for much longer."
"You devil!"
Jack waved him off. "Look, Larry, it's complicated. There's more to it than I can even begin to explain right now. I'll tell you everything later. I promise, okay? Adios. Goodbye."
And with that, Jack was out the door, leaving a pleasantly stunned Larry behind to digest the morsel of information he'd been given.
...
Janet and Phillip's elderly English housekeeper, Mrs. Hawthorne, hadn't asked any questions. To be fair, she hadn't had much reason to be very concerned. She hadn't listened to their conversations – severe hearing loss in one ear and a tendency to keep to herself made sure of that. Perhaps that was why she had stuck with the Dawson family for multiple generations now.
When Phillip had left for another business trip, she hadn't paid much attention. He was always doing that, and she much preferred Janet anyway. She'd grown quite fond of the younger woman over the past year, the kindness and treatment she'd shown to her that was different from the generationally wealthy attitudes of the Dawsons. She had grown used to Janet's quirks, her habits, her tastes – all part of the job – but she enjoyed it, and she enjoyed Janet's company.
Which is why, when Janet had barged into the house looking rather disheveled and resolute, she didn't bother to ask any questions.
"Care for some tea, dear?"
Janet hadn't noticed her at first and had walked clear past her before turning around, taken aback. "Oh, Mrs. Hawthorne. I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I didn't know you were coming in today?"
"Beg pardon?"
Janet raised her voice, remembering herself. "I said, I didn't know you were coming in today!"
"Well I know the place is in disarray, dear, but I've only just gotten here you know. I thought with Phillip out of town I'd stay the night like I've done once or twice. Doesn't that sound lovely? A slumber party with just us girls!"
Mrs. Hawthorne did occasionally spend the night. They had an entire room set up just for her, and she much preferred it to the dusty old apartment she lived in downtown. It was run by a strange man named Mr. Furley (who'd once had the audacity to hit on her!), and if it weren't for the price, she'd have moved out ages ago.
"Oh, well, you're more than welcome of course," Janet smiled, although she clearly had something else on her mind.
"Is everything alright, dear?"
Janet wasn't sure how much she was willing to reveal. They had grown quite close despite the sometimes difficulty in communication, but the woman had been with Phillip and his family much longer. She decided to keep things surface level. She let out the puff of air she was holding in before she spoke.
"I..." she began but cut herself short when she once more spotted the airline ticket on the table. Mrs. Hawthorne watched as Janet picked it up, holding it in both of her bands, and eyed it without appearing to actually read it or even register what it was. Her mind was clearly elsewhere. She looked back at the woman standing before her as she eyed Janet suspiciously. "Mrs. Hawthorne, can you keep a secret?"
The older woman smiled warmly. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any cigarettes, dear. I haven't smoked in years."
Janet returned her smile. Through no fault of her own, nobody could keep a secret like Mrs. Hawthorne.
...
Jack had only seen Janet and Phillip's house twice before. Once, when he'd agreed to help them move some things in not too long after he, Janet, and Terri had moved out of their apartment, and another time when he had inadvertently driven past it due to a road work detour. It was a classic Spanish-style home – one of those places that looks humble but is more expansive than you'd expected upon entering. He nervously drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in his car as he made eye contact with it, taking in his essence. The yard was expertly covered with a garden of flowers and hedging. It screamed Janet - she'd certainly chosen the place – but he hated what it represented. It was like a physical manifestation of her separation from him.
He sighed and turned off the ignition. He fretfully ran his hands through his hair and rested his head on his fists, with his elbows planted firmly on the steering wheel. "Janet, don't say anything. Just listen..." he muttered to himself, practicing what he hoped would be an epic confession of his desperate love for her. He continued, "Janet, we spent seven wonderful years together and those were some of the – no the – those were the best years of my entire life. Letting you go was the biggest mistake I've ever – "
He was startled by the sound of a thump against the back left-hand side of his car. A kid with a basketball apologized and ran back to the yard next door to Janet's house, but not before looking a little concerned over what appeared to be a strange man talking to himself. Jack pursed his lips at the kid and took it as a sign to get out of the car.
"Janet, I have to tell you the truth," he continued to mutter as he walked the pathway to the front door. "It's something I should've told you a long time ago."
The kid looked at him uncomfortably from across the lawn before shooting his basketball and missing.
"Janet, look, when two people...when two people who lived together for a long time..."
He rang the doorbell.
"You see, something happened between us. Emotionally. No, god, that's stupid," he reprimanded himself and proceeded to bite his nails.
The door opened. "Can I help you, young man?"
"Janet, don't say anything just listen – " he stopped when he looked up and realized that it was not Janet before him but a kindly older woman. "Oh, uh. I'm sorry I...I was looking for Janet?"
"You'll have to speak up. I'm afraid I'm a bit hard of hearing."
Jack cleared his throat awkwardly and raised his voice. "I'm looking for Janet."
"Oh, well, I'm afraid you just missed her. She's just left."
"Left?" Jack's heart sunk. "W-where did she go?"
Mrs. Hawthorne had heard all about Jack, who'd come up rather frequently in her and Janet's long talks. She had never met him in person before, but plenty of Janet's pictures contained his likeness. Unfortunately, in conjunction with her hearing, Mrs. Hawthorne's sight was no longer what it used to be, so it wasn't immediately apparent to her who exactly the man standing before her was.
"I'm sorry, are you a friend of hers?"
"Y-yeah. An old friend," Jack rushed his words, growing more anxious that reaching Janet was going to prove a lot more difficult than he'd planned. "My name's Jack."
Mrs. Hawthorne's eyes grew bright and she clapped her hands with pleasure. "Jack! Well why didn't you say so before! I know all about you, Jack! Oh, why didn't you say so! Why, it's Jack Tripper!" she urged him inside and he sported a humbled, sideways grin. "I feel as though I've known you for years!"
Before Jack could get a word in edgewise, she'd shuffled him into the kitchen. A teapot was boiling on the stove and the room smelled faintly of baking. She motioned him to a chair at the kitchen table and practically shoved him into it with her enthusiasm.
"Uh, look, Miss..." Jack began, unsure of who exactly the woman was. He was in a hurry. This was urgent. Where was Janet?
"Oh, where are my manners! I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Mrs. Hawthorne. You can call me Mrs. Hawthorne. I'm Janet and Phillip's housekeeper."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hawthorne. Look, it's really important that I see Janet right now. Can you tell me where she is?"
The tea kettle hissed as Jack spoke the last two sentences, and Mrs. Hawthorne couldn't hear a thing. She smiled and nodded as she fetched some mugs. "Care for some tea, dear?"
"No, thank you. I really can't stay. I –"
"Do you take one lump of sugar or two?" she asked, appearing to ignore him but really only assuming he'd uttered a 'yes.'
"No. None. No sugar for me. Please." Jack stood up as he grew more and more impatient.
She turned around with two mugs placed on saucers in her hands and walked toward Jack, noticing the urgency in his stance. "Is everything alright?" she asked, setting the mugs down on the table.
He lowered his voice forgetfully, pleading. "I need to find her."
"Do I mind her? No, not at all! We've actually grown quite close, your friend and I. Right shame what happened, though. I was beginning to think I'd never meet you."
Jack ignored her misinterpretation and raised his voice again so that she could hear. "What do you mean 'what happened?'"
"You know. You just popping off like that. Falling off the grid. She lamented the loss of you so much I was beginning to think you two had had some sort of an affair before she'd met Phillip." She raised one hand to her mouth, minorly embarrassed at letting that notion slip. "Begging your pardon, dear."
Jack didn't reply. He rested his hand on the chair beside him and took in Mrs. Hawthorne's words. He'd been so selfish for so long, he never really stopped to consider how much his avoidance of Janet would have an effect on her. Not until recently. But hearing it from another person made it sting that much more. He looked at the older woman, with her kind eyes and warm smile, and somehow felt as though he could trust her even though he'd only just met her.
"I love her," he said, no more than a whisper.
"I'm sorry, dear, I'm afraid you'll have to speak up."
He took in a deep breath, drawing in air at an attempt to calm himself. "I said I love her!" he practically yelled, but not on purpose, as he let go of the air in his lungs. The words seemed to shoot out of him like a geyser, insisting that now was the moment to yell it from the rooftops, whether or not he had had a million opportunities to say it before when it had mattered, to the person who had actually needed to hear it, at the time when it had needed to be said.
"Oh," Mrs. Hawthorne replied, startled but unshaken. She opened her mouth and it took the words a few beats to come out. "Well that complicates things a bit, doesn't it?" She pursed her lips in thought and said nonchalantly. "I suppose that explains the situation with Phillip."
He walked over to her, his eyes pleading, and he took her soft, weathered hands in his. "Where is she?"
"Oh. Well, in New York of course."
He swallowed deeply, his worse fears confirmed, and nodded as he accepted the reality of it. It was going to be harder than he'd planned, but still he knew that he had to go after her. "Thank you," he said to Mrs. Hawthorne before letting her hands go and racing down the hall and out the door.
Mrs. Hawthorne wrinkled her brow and followed him with her eyes. "Course he's in New York. Been there for days now. One would think he'd be more concerned with where Janet is." And she shrugged and went back to her tea.