Fall

The next day I took Jay out to the strip mall to get new clothes because the damn kid takes after his father and grows like a fricking tree. I swear, every time he takes a nap he grows a fourth of an inch. We – well I was searching through the racks of Oshkosh because Jay says he’s “better than the GAP,” while my son was at the play area chatting up and charming some of the other kids.

I quickly turned away from one of the racks, looking down inspecting a price tag, and before I knew it I crashed right into the flattest chest I have ever known.

My lips automatically started to speak an apologetic “sorry,” but once I realized whom it was I thought better than to apologize to him.

“Are you stalking us?” I asked as I peeled my body away from his black v-neck cladded chest letting bits of his ink show. His eyes locked onto mine like they always did.

“Of course not.” He had that same old smirk that showed how bemused he was by my reaction to our little encounter.

“So you just happen to be at Oshkosh at the same time as us?” I challenged.

“Yes.”

I shook my head at him. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language,” John whisper-scolded me, putting a finger to his lips. “There are children around.”

I was able to hide the smirk from gracing my lips by rolling my eyes at him instead. “What’re you actually doing here?” I followed up.

“Meet and Greet at Hot Topic actually,” he said matter-of-factly and pointed down the hall to the familiar storefront.

“So you ditched your fans to come and stalk us.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he responded, that stupid smirk never faltering. “We just finished and I saw you guys so I thought I’d come say hey.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, my own attempt to lighten the stiff awkward mood, “Likely story.”

John quickly changed the course of conversation, thank God.

“Where is he?”

“Flirting,” I said, pointing over to the plastic blue and red toddler table and chair set where Jay and two little girls were hovering over a puzzle. “He’s an O’Callaghan, alright.”

John was gazing at him. His features softened, he was so enchanted by the child’s movements, it made me wonder how I would feel if the tables were turned – if I never got the chance to be in Jay’s life. If I never got to know him, or him me, it would have torn me apart – Jay is the best part of me and a life without him would be no life at all.

“That he is,” John replied still transfixed. He shook himself out of his reeve to add more to our conversation, “So what are you doing?”

I held up the baby blue jeans and green and blue t-shirt with a baseball in the center of it up, responding simultaneously, “Shopping for clothes.”

“So this is where you get your sexy wardrobe from,” he said, raising his eyebrows up and down in that provocative way.

“You’re not funny.”

I walked past him to continue my shopping. I didn’t have all day to play these mindless games with him.

Albeit my attempts to get away John followed my every move, following up my statement with, “You used to think I was hilarious.”

Without even putting the slightest bit of thought into my response words flew out. I couldn’t control them, they had a mind of their own, a mind that must have been connected to my subconscious because I didn’t feel even the slightest bit of remorse after saying them.

“That was then, this is now.”

“Ouch,” his hand flew to his heart like I just shot an arrow straight through him. His voice dropped and playful John was gone, serious, real-life John took his place. I was never a fan of serious John; he was always so stoic and tried to father you, or just got really quiet and reclusive. He mostly got this way when we had a fight or if he had writers block – you never, ever want to cross John O’Callaghan when he has writers block, he gets so frustrated and all the worst parts of him come out at once. I remember I used to feel bad for him when he got like this, it’s like the words he’s been searching for were out of reach but in his head they’ve never been so loud.

“Lighten up, Natalie.”

“Go away, John.” I made a pass by John again, this time towards the bathing suit section. John couldn’t take a hint.

“C’mon, stop pushing me away,” he called after me.

I kept moving, calling a curt, “No” over my shoulder.

“Why?” He stopped in his tracks. If this were a movie he would have whispered an almost inaudible “please” and I would have been the only one to hear him. I would have turned around on my heels to see his heart lying down by his feet. I would have fallen back in love with his bright green eyes that broke through his walls, letting all the vulnerability built up in his lanky frame seep through. I would have noticed his palms facing me, inviting me in. We would have locked confused, unsure orbs once more. He would have lifted his arms, outstretched into the air, and in the time it takes for a drag of a cigarette I would have been engulfed in his arms, never letting go.

But, this wasn’t a movie. This is real life and I have more than my own delirious whims to think about.

“Because I know you, John.”

“What?” his brow furrowed and I could hear the anger building up. “I mess up once and now I’m forever on the shit list?”

“Yes!”

“That’s so unfair, Natalie.”

“That’s life, John.”

“I know you still love me.”

“I’m with Justin.”

“Not officially,” he said like he was at the table with Jess and I when we were talking about my relationship status and how Justin and I haven’t actually defined our relationship.

“It doesn’t matter,” I shrugged and then spat, “I don’t want you.”

“Bull,” he called. “Keep telling yourself that,” John closed the gap between us. He came in as close as he could possibly get, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “I am, in fact, the only person you’ve ever slept with.” Like a flip of a switch he was gone, out of sight but certainly not out of mind, leaving me dumbfounded, jaw slacked open in the middle of a children’s clothing store.
______________________________________________________________

The following Thursday John was waiting for me at my usual Starbucks table. I wasn’t sure whether to be surprised that he remembered, or upset that he was crashing my me-time. I made my way to the counter to order my usual and sit somewhere else, but Cindy stopped me raving about how John has been here for two hours and has kept reordering my coffee so it was fresh when I finally decided to arrive. Looking to my left, sure enough there was John and two ceramic to-stay mugs.

Reluctantly, I took the metal seat across from him, placing my books on the table and going straight for the coffee in hopes to down it all and get out unscathed.

John spoke first, neither of us bothering with acquainted “hellos.”

“Now before you get your titties in a tangle, listen,” he started. “I don’t want to upset you, I just want to be there and we both know I have that right,” he began his soliloquy, “We both know that, yes, we started this all wrong but we were kids – we were young and dumb. Hell, we’re still kids but we have a tighter grasp on life now. At least I hope we do, because I know I’ve figured some things out. And I firmly and wholeheartedly believe that we can do this together, unorthodoxly. So, with that being said, will you please stop being a See You Next Tuesday and open up to me. We were fine and had these nice little meetings here a couple weeks ago and now we can’t even look at each other without scowling.”

I said nothing. I had nothing to say to him.

“Come on, Nat, we’re better than this.”

I continued sipping, my eyes locked onto the hard covered textbooks staring me back.

“Are you going to say something?”

I began to open my Accounting book.

“Natalie,” he said hoping to get my attention. “Nattie, hello?” he waved his hand in front of my face trying to get me to look at him, but I just couldn’t do it. I could never look him in the face without the fiery rage of hell boiling in my chest and bursting through my vocals.

“Fuck it.” John rose from his seat angrily, slamming something wrapped in plastic and tissue paper onto the table so it made a loud crunching sound.

I waited for John to exit the building before I paid any attention to his collateral damage that laid closest to me in front of John’s empty mug.

He had two daises interwoven together.