Perfect Symmetry

I dropped the lilacs onto the shelf next to me and fixed my hair nervously. He was just standing there, looking at me. Did he ask me something? I didn’t even know; my mind was whirling.

“What...what are you doing back in Chicago?” I managed to ask nervously.

Paul shrugged. “There was an opening at U Chicago and I missed this city.”

I snorted. “Even after living in New York?”

“It’s not for everybody,” he replied crisply. “So how have you been all these years? You look good.”

I frowned. “Yeah, you too. I’ve been great. I’m working for an advertising firm here in the city.”

“Oh? Anyone I would have heard of?” Paul questioned.

When I told him the name, he smiled. “Ah yes. That’s a big place. Although I must admit I’m a little surprised, Jazz. I thought you would have become a writer by now. Or perhaps a historian. You always loved history.”

I felt my face grow red. “Well you haven’t spoken to me in about four years so I don’t think you’re really entitled to remark on what I should or shouldn’t be doing,” I replied coolly.

I saw his expression fall a bit and I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“And...your family is still in good health?” Paul asked.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Still in good health”? Who does he think he is, Fitzwilliam Darcy?

“They’re all fine. How’s Judy or whatever her name was?” I said rudely. I was referring, of course, to the woman he had been seeing in New York before I joined him there.

“Her name is Julie, and I wouldn’t know,” he answered solemnly. “I haven’t seen her in a few months.”

I bit my lip. “Well I’m sorry to hear that,” my voice softened considerably. I rethought my anger. I mean, it had been four years, and I was in a happy relationship now. Sure, Paul was still attractive and he had a great job, but he wasn’t doing anything to actively make him mad still.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I backtracked slowly. “Let’s start over.”

He smiled, his eyes doing that cute crinkly thing.

“That sounds nice,” he acknowledged.

I nodded. “Okay. Hi, Paul. It’s nice to see you again. I’m doing great, how are you?” I said cheerfully, offering my hand for him to shake.

Paul grasped my hand firmly and shook it warmly. I forgot how rough and calloused his hands were. I had always loved that about him.

“Hello Jazz. I’m doing fine; I’ve missed Chicago and I’m single again. Maybe you can help me navigate the single life,” he suggested with a friendly grin.

I opened my mouth to say something when I heard the rickety sounds of a shopping cart hitting cracks in the pavement behind me. It was Jonathan.

“Sorry I took so long; I got a bit lost,” he admitted, smiling sheepishly. He glanced at me and Paul talking and I quickly put my flowers inside the cart with the lavender and then turned back to Paul.

“Paul, this is Jonathan. He plays pro hockey for the Chicago Blackhawks. Jonathan, this is one of my old friends, Paul. I...I knew him when I was in college,” I hedged evasively.

Jonathan and Paul exchanged a firm handshake.

“Jazz and I are dating,” Jonathan supplied.

Paul’s expression remained a mask of calm; classic British response, as I used to say to him before. His eyes flickered to me quickly, as if asking why I hadn’t told him. I stared back defiantly. I didn’t owe him anything.

“Wow, that’s brilliant! I’m really happy for you guys. Listen, I’ve gotta run. But we should all get together and we should definitely catch up, Jazz,” he insisted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and handed it to me. “Call me this week, okay?”

I nodded wordlessly, and with that, he turned on his heel with a pot of roses under his arm and left the shop after paying for them. I turned to Jonathan and smiled.

“Thanks for picking out the lavender. Now let’s roll, before we are seriously late,” I advised.

Jon took my arm gently. “We’re already late, Jazz. Who was that guy? I didn’t like the look of him.”

I bit my lip. “I told you about him when we first met, remember? I ran off to New York with him and then it didn’t work out.”

Jonathan’s brown eyes grew wide. “That was the guy? But he’s...older than you.”

I laughed. “Yeah, he was a hot young British professor when I was with him.”

He frowned. “Oh yeah?”

Rolling my eyes, I stood on my tip toes in my high heels and kissed his lips softly.

“Yeah. Except now I’m over it and I’m with an even more amazing guy,” I continued assuringly.

Jonathan still looked peeved. “I hate that he’s British. Why didn’t it work out with you two?”

I shrugged. “I thought he was my Mr. Darcy but he was really just a Mr. Wickham,” I answered with an impish smile, taking delight in his confusion.

“Jazz, I don’t know what that means,” Jonathan whined.

“I think it’s time you read Pride and Prejudice then,” I suggested with an evil grin.

Jonathan sighed heavily as I pushed the cart over to the cashier. He put his arm around my waist.

“First it’s Downton Abbey and now Pride and Prejudice? The guys are going to make fun of me,” he groaned.

I laughed. “Please, you loved Downton and you know it.”

“I just want Mary and Matthew to get it on already,” he retorted. “Then the show can end.”

But his grip on my waist tightened just a tad before letting to to help me unload the flowers.
~

The bridal shower, or engagement party really, went well. Everyone had a great time, and Hailey was very pleased. I played only the cheesy love songs, like “La Vie en Rose” and “Make You Feel My Love” and Jonathan spent most of the afternoon shooting me incredulous looks at the playlist.

My mind, however, was diverted from the festivities, and I could feel the shape of Paul’s business card in my dress pocket. I fingered it lightly, wondering at how such a light piece of paper could hold so much weight for me.

Jonathan dropped me off at my apartment and when I walked in, Pat was already home, watching TV.

“Hey how was it?” he called out in greeting.

“It was fun! You should have come, Pat,” I berated him gently, sitting on the couch next to him.

He rolled his eyes. “Jazz, engagement parties are only fun when you have a significant other. I would have been bored the whole time.”

I smiled absently. “Maybe you’re right.” I directed my eyes to the television. “Anything good on?”

Pat made a face. “I may or may not be watching Duck Dynasty,” he admitted.

“You should try Downton Abbey,” I suggested, “Jonathan’s gotten quite into it.”

“I know, he tried to convince me to watch it online. I laughed at him and told him you had him wrapped around his little finger,” Patrick said with a grin.

I shot him a look. “Why don’t I pull out my DVD collection and we can pick from my extensive romance movies? I’m in the mood for some Pride and Prejudice today for some reason.” I smiled to myself.

“Nice try. Last time you tried to get me to watch Pride and Prejudice it ended up being a seven hour marathon,” Patrick reminded me.

“I told you it was a mini series, you ninny,” I shoved his shoulder playfully. “And this one would be a normal two hour movie.”

“Well you can’t blame me for being suspicious,” Pat narrowed his eyes. “You kept telling me that the girls were going to jump into some sort of lake and be all wet. But then we kept watching and none of the girls jumped into any old lake; it was the guy whatever that actors name is. The one from that Kings Speech movie.”

“Colin Firth,” I supplied helpfully.

“Right, him. It was him that jumped into the lake. You lied to me repeatedly, Jazz,” he accused me.

“Well I had to get you to keep watching somehow,” I retorted defensively. “But I see your point. However, I’ve heard Keira Knightley is a particular favorite of yours.”

Pat snorted. “Yeah, so? Can we watch Pirates?”

“No, she’s plays the lead role in Pride and Prejudice,” I said slyly. “So are you suuure you don’t want to just watch a little bit of it?”

I saw him contemplating, probably imagining Keira Knightley’s pretty face and slim body. He groaned. “Fine. But don’t tell anyone.”

I giggled and walked over to my shelf of DVDs and selected the one I was looking for. I blew the lingering dust off before sticking it in the DVD player.

“Now after you watch this we can discuss the differences between this one and the Colin Firth version,” I announced excitedly. “Oh! Have you even read the book? Because I could lend it to you if you-”

Pat broke in, “I’m watching the damn movie, I’m not adopting a lifestyle, Jazz.”

I smiled anyway, throwing a blanket over us as the English scenery appeared on the screen and I dipped into the world of Mr. Darcy once more.
~

Patrick fell asleep just as Mr. Collins proposed to Elizabeth, who promptly rejected him. I looked at Pat for a reaction but he was out like a light, his mouth open and sliver of drool making its way down his chin.

I shrugged and finished watching the movie anyway. When the credits started to roll, I pushed myself off the couch carefully, trying not to disrupt Pat. I made my way to the phone, grabbed it, and hurried over to the kitchen. I fumbled into my pocket for the business card that I had been so aware of all day and I dialled the numbers meticulously, checking the card three times to make sure I had the right number before hitting the “call” button.

It rang three times before his voice came on the phone, and my breath hitched subconsciously.

“This is Paul Fletcher,” he drawled.

I winced. “Oh, hi Paul. It’s Jazz.”

He cleared his throat and seemed to brighten up.

“I wasn’t expecting you to call so soon,” he admitted, sounding pleased. “What have you been up to since I saw you?”

I wasn’t sure how he did it, but Paul had an uncanny way of making creepy questions sound immensely romantic and caring. I registered that this was a weird question but I glazed over it.

“I watched a movie with a friend,” I answered honestly. “Pride and Prejudice,” I added when I thought I hadn’t answered his question sufficiently.

He chuckled. “Well it’s six. Have you had dinner?”

“No,” I replied cautiously.

“How about Mexican?” Paul’s voice sounded gravelly.

I sucked in a breath. “Sure. I’ll text you the address of a good place I know. See you there in half an hour?”

He sounded surprised. “Sure. Good. Er-I’ll see you there then.”

I agreed and then hung up, looking at the phone stupidly. I decided that I would have had to meet up with him at some point. It was closure. I needed it. Why did he betray me, why did he never come after me? And why; God, why was he back now? Now, when I was finally happy and settled? I had to go.

I changed into jeans and a plaid shirt before grabbing a jacket and heading out. I was there first, so I got us a table and ate an entire basket of tortilla chips while I waited for him to get there. When he did arrive, I offered him a smile and he kissed my cheek. I tried not to react, but that small touch brought back a lot of memories.

We ordered and chatted lightly over our chips and salsa. It was when the main course arrived that the conversation took a turn.

“So what is going on with you, Jazz?” Paul asked accusingly. He had a smile on his face to soften the accusation, but I felt the sting.

“I beg your pardon?” I replied before taking a bite of my fajitas.

“What are you doing here? None of this is you. You were going to write a book, travel the world, be a journalist. Now you’re still in Chicago, working at a faceless corporation. I’m a little disappointed, I have to tell you,” Paul explained pompously. His accent combined with his haughty tone made me feel cheap and fake.

“Paul, those were the daydreams of a disillusioned college student; you can’t exactly hold me to that,” I retorted hotly.

“It looks like you’ve abandoned all your beliefs. You always associated yourself with intelligent, cultured people. And now you’re what, dating an athlete? We always used to make fun of those big, bulky idiots,” he laughed callously.

My eyes widened and I dropped my silverware.

“My relationship is none of your business, Paul. How dare you talk about Jon like that? God, you’re such a little prick.”

“Don’t tell me you can have intellectual debates with him, like we used to? Or what about your other friends? You’re living with another hockey player, aren’t you? How fast did he fall asleep during Pride and Prejudice? I bet he thinks its just another love story. He doesn’t get it, does he Jazz?”

I frowned. “Why did you ask me to dinner tonight, Paul? You know, other than to attack my life choices and insult my friends.”

“I just wanted to understand…” he trailed off.

“You have no right, Paul. I haven’t seen you in years. You don’t get to waltz back in and comment on my choices.”

“I just don’t see how you got involved with him. You never even liked sports,” he remarked with a grimace.

I raised my eyebrows. “I’ve been a hockey fan since middle school, Paul. I talked about the Sharks all the time. You were just never interested.”

He looked guilty. “Sorry. I guess it was just hard for me to see you with another guy.”

“It’s been years, Paul. We’ve both moved on. How is your wife?” I asked with a knowing smile.

His fingers touched the ring on his right hand subconsciously.

“I knew you would notice,” he said ruefully. “Her name is Ana. You two would get along well. She’s a Jane Austen lover too.”

I grinned. “I’m glad to hear it. Was she okay with moving to Chicago?”

“She was thrilled about my new job. That’s all that mattered,” Paul answered.

“Any kids yet?” I queried curiously.

He shook his head negatively. “No. She’s not in a rush, and I just don’t think I’m ready for the effect kids would have on my life just yet.”

I nodded. “We’ll all have to get together. If you can handle socializing with lowly athletes.”

Paul smiled apologetically. “Definitely. Friends?”

We shook on it, and the rest of the dinner went fine before I ducked out before dessert, as I usually did.