Chapter 8

Jess could be prone to moods every once in a while. It was his way. If they got into a fight, he needed time to think and feel before he jumped into resolving it, even though she itched to talk it out. She'd learned a long time ago to give him a day or two.

But this was different. This was a black anger that looked like it was consuming him from the inside out. He'd awoken with red eyes, and dark circles. While he was taking a shower, she made them some toast; the only thing she could eat in the morning without feeling ill. Maybe once he had something in his stomach he'd at least go into contemplation mode instead of this dark disquiet.

She felt tiny arms wrap around her leg and looked down at Lizzie rubbing her eyes.

"Morning bug," said Gillian. "Saturday Oatmeal?"

Lizzie nodded and lifted her arms. Gillian picked her up, settling her on her hip. She kissed her cheek and removed the sleep from her eyes. "Why don't you go watch cartoons and I'll bring it to you ok?"

Lizzie brightened and wiggled out of Gillian's arms and ran to the living room, thumping with her heels like all five year old's did.

Gillian grabbed a packet of strawberries and cream oatmeal from the box and emptied it into Lizzie's special Saturday morning bowl. She stared at it, her mind drifting to Jess. How could she help him? Just give him time was probably the answer. But there was no time for that really. The open house was today, tomorrow they had to go pull Lizzie's old baby things from storage to turn the guest room into a nursery, then back to work full force on Monday. There were a lot of meetings this week, and a lot of decisions. Something told her Jess wasn't in the decision making way.

As she thought through her options, he came around the corner, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, his robe tied loosely around his waist. God that man was sexy, even when he was in a mood. He could still take her breath away.

"Morning," she said.

Jess said nothing. He opened the refrigerator and closed it. Then opened and closed it again. He walked around the counter without a word.

Gillian huffed. This wasn't like him at all. Maybe the pressure of having little "whatsit" was getting to him? No it couldn't be that. He was ecstatic about that.

She poured some water into the bowl of oatmeal and put it in the microwave. As it dinged, Jess bounded down the stairs toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Out."

Lizzie jumped up from the floor in front of the TV. "Daddy!" She ran toward Jess as he slammed the front door. "Daddy?"

Ok. That was it. Gillian was fed up. Regardless of time, they were having it out when he came home. She checked her watch. Three hours until she had to be there for the open house. Trouble was, she felt a little in over her head.

She picked up her phone and stared at it for a while. Then dialed the number of the only person she thought could help.

….

Jess jumped into the car and roared out of the driveway, going ten over through the suburb streets. He didn't know where he was going, just that he needed to go.

His blood pressure was skyrocketed.

He hadn't slept at all last night. All of his morose teenage years rolled by him every time he closed his eyes. Every time he'd done something to piss off Liz or fight with her when he was 16, wishing just once that there was someone in their apartment in New York that cared. That would give him a break. No one understood him then. Not his mom, not the myriad of boyfriends and ex-husbands left in her wake. Not his teachers, or even his couple friends at school. But maybe his dad would.

He'd never admit it to anyone, but he used to fantasize about coming home and Jimmy would be there. He'd say he was sorry. He'd say he loved him, and that he was never going to leave again and then take him out for dessert. They'd go to Baskin Robbins and eat ice cream in cones; sit in the chilled dining space while Jimmy asked him questions about school, gave him advice on girls. Told him he understood him and that he wasn't crazy for liking books more than people or that he'd stolen all the wet floor signs at school. I did the same thing when I was your age, Jimmy would say with an easy laugh. Don't worry kid, you're a chip off the old block.

It was stupid and girly, but there it was.

Now Jimmy was back and it was too little too late. Where the hell did he get off? Jess didn't care what Jimmy wanted. He didn't care if it was good or bad. He didn't care about him at all.

God, he was such a liar. Instead of tears pricking his eyes like Gillian's did, anger balled in his throat, twisting until he couldn't breathe. He pulled over into the park close by that he would take Lizzie to, pushing her on the swings. Getting out of his car he walked to the baseball diamond and sat on the bench. It was early enough that only the elderly speed walkers were out on the cement path. He took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts and called a number he'd only ever called once or twice in his life.

"Hello?" said a confused voice on the other line.

"Hey Lorelai," he choked out. "It's Jess."