Heartlines

7:00 AM

Whoever created 7:00am conference calls on Sundays was permanently on my shit list. Even after dealing with them for three years, there was still no logical explanation as to why we couldn’t push these ‘urgent calls’ off until the next day when we were all scheduled to be in the same office. Everyone in this ‘important conference call’ had offices along the same hallway, which again, made the reason for this a mystery.

I thought about waking up at six-thirty and giving myself anywhere between fifteen and ten minutes to have my morning routine of coffee, breakfast, and scrolling through the news articles on my iPad. I always enjoyed having an hour or so to relax in the morning, and even though I loved sleep, it was a huge possibility that the lack of my relaxing hour would make me on edge in the meeting.

Not good when you’re the lowest on the totem pole.

So I found the alarm on my cell phone going off at 5:15am, and instead of hitting the snooze button, I slid my finger across the screen, let out a few fake whimpers, and then rolled out of bed, my body careful to miss the cold hard of the sheets. Bare feet pressing against the hardwood floor, I small sigh rolled past my lips.

Shuffling through the hallway, I walked down the hall and paused at the navy blue door that had ‘Emma’ painted across the bottom in messy letters. Holding my breath, I grabbed the doorknob and slowly opened the door, letting my eyes scan over everything in the room until they paused on the small brunette girl laying in bed, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. Making sure she was okay, I backed out of the room, shut the door, and then headed downstairs to start my coffee pot.

The first few days I was alone with Emma, were the hardest. I was constantly worried about her, worried about what I had done, and who I had cut out of my life. The thought of being a single mother made my hands shake, it brought my normally strong mind and stature crumbling down into rubble. I knew I could do it, I knew I could give Emma everything she wanted and more, but I was scared.

Regardless, I made it.

I worked every chance they gave me, I attended everything they invited me too, I even brought Emma with me sometimes. I refused to give up, and I refused to make excuses. That wasn’t who I was, who my mother raised me to be. Thanks to her, I made it to where I am today, working from home on a Sunday morning in the middle of my huge kitchen in the middle of my huge house a half hour outside of Nashville.

I got what I wanted and I didn’t need anyone to help me through it.

The coffee pot was nearly finished when the clock struck 6:15am. I was wide awake, thoughts were flowing freely through my head, and the previous regrets about waking up this early had been squashed by the insane amounts of caffeine that built up in my veins. I was ready to drag my ass all the way through this call.

Opening Spotify, I rested my elbow on the black marble counters settled on the top of the island and clicked around until the soft hum of Coldplay was filling the silent air I had surrounded myself with. Humming along to ‘Yellow’, I grabbed my Cat in the Hat mug and held it with both hands as I watched read the article about a new art show opening up in Nashville at the end of the month.

Sipping on the lukewarm liquid, I went to change the article when the screen of my MacBook went blurry and a box popped up. Jerking back a little, I set the red and white stripped mug down and slowly moved the cursor over the number, reading the numbers back to myself as my eyes trickled over them.

“A four-one-two area code?” I whispered to myself, “that’s Pittsburgh.”

Thoughts started to rush through my head. I was suddenly drowning in thoughts. Every single ring that filled my head, I let myself sink deeper and deeper into the sea of anxiety that I had just dove into. Feeling a slow tremble start in my hands, I rested my left against the counter while i used the other to move the cursor across the screen.

“I have his number in my contacts,” I repeated to myself a few times as I set the small black arrow over the answer button. “This can’t be him, it would say James. Relax, you fucking idiot.” I growled at myself as I pressed down on the answer button and listened as the music abruptly stopped and my speakers were emitting a soft rustling noise followed by some static.

When the ambient sounds stopped, I sucked in a small breath and went to say ‘hello’ when the person on the other end of the call spoke up.

“Charlie?”

My whole world seemed to stop for a minute. The organs in my stomach iced over, my heart ceased it’s erratic beating, and the blood traveling through my veins stopped. Every single thing in my body started to shut down, the first being my vocal chords. I was speechless as I realized who the deep scratchy voice on the other end of the line belonged to. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in at least four years. Ever since that day I basically kicked him out of my life, I hadn’t seen him in person and I had not spoke to him over the phone. We communicated strictly through text messages, and the occasional e-mail.

For him to call me, meant that there was something going on so significant that it couldn’t be relayed over text, and that scared me almost as much as talking to him. What if his parents passed, what if one of his brothers got into an accident? I may have resented James with every fiber of my being, but I would drop everything and fly out to Whitby for his family. They were the only part of my past that I kept in constant contact with.

Zoning out, I was pulled back in when I heard the deep voice call out my name again. Shaking off the paralysis, I adjusted my body on the stool and then nodded, wishing it was a face call instead of just a phone call.

No, no, I take that back. The last thing I needed before a conference call was to be surprised by a FaceTime with my ex-fiance. Pass, no, no, no.

“James?” I called out into the room, my heart popping in my chest as I heard him sigh.

“Yeah, I’m sorry it’s so early, I just…”


“Is everything okay, Jay?” I nearly threw myself to the floor as his nickname slipped past my lips. My stomach was instantly sick, my hands were trembling again, and the only thing I could focus on was how erratic my breathing was as I wanted for his voice to slice back through the tension hanging in the air.

It took James a moment to answer, but when he did, I felt a little better about having this conversation. “Everyone’s fine, if that’s what you mean. I’m okay too, I just… I just go the news that I’m being traded.”


“Oh.”

Thoughts rushed through my head. When I had made the decision to move from Dallas to Nashville, it was based off of two reasons. One, was because I would be promoted about three rings up from my normal job and make almost three times the money, and two, was so that Emma was closer to James. As she grew up and started visiting with James whenever he had a chance to spend a week with her, i realized that whatever had happened between us, whatever happened for those three weeks wasn’t worth holding a grudge against him for the rest of our lives.

We had a child together and that meant that no matter what, we needed to play nice. Emma was the sweetest little girl anyone could have the pleasure of raising, and she deserved to be happy. If her being happy meant seeing her dad every month, then I wouldn’t interfere.


“The Predators picked me up.”

I nearly dropped to the floor. My throat went dry, my eyes were wide, and a mix of emotions were swelling in my stomach that made me want to scream, cry, smile, and throw up the cups of coffee I had just drank all at the same time. How could he end up in Nashville? Did he have a choice? Did he choose to be here so he was closer to Emma, or was this just a strange slap in the face from whatever higher entity controlled the power of the universe?

How could James Neal end up playing for the fucking Nashville Predators?

“That’s… great, James.”


“I’m excited to be close to you… Emma, again.” His voice changed tones as he quickly corrected himself.

“She’s going to be so happy, she was just asking when she was going to see you again.”

“Well, my flight is on Tuesday, so if it would be okay I could-“


“Where are you planning on staying?”

The sentence silenced the two of us. As I replayed it over in my head, I felt my blood start to burn through my veins and boil under my skin. My whole body was on fire and I was positive I was the reddest I had ever been in my life. Why would I bother asking that? Why would I care?

Because I had three extra bedrooms and was located a half hour from Nashville with traffic? Because even though I made believe that I hated James, I maybe kind of missed him. Because I knew that if Emma had even one full month of the two of us living under the same roof, she would be the happiest little human being on the face of this planet.

Did I really want to wake up every morning before work and spend my hour drinking coffee and reading the news with James? Did I really want to throw myself back into this awkward encounter of living in the same house but acting like total strangers?

“Charlie, are you there?”

I hadn’t realized James was speaking until his voice calling out my name knocked me back into reality for what felt like the fifth time in the past ten minutes.


“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m here, Sorry.”


“Don’t worry about me, alright?”


“I was just thinking of Emma,” I whispered and looked at the now dark laptop screen. The iPad I had been reading the news on was set down in my lap, and my phone was next to my right hand. I had the sudden urge to take all of the electronics and slam my head against them until one of them killed me, but the second I envisioned the pain of this conversation falling away, it surged.

“I know you don't want me around.”


I did. I did miss him. I hated him, though. I hated the way he made me feel for those three weeks. I hated him for giving me the false sense of security. I hated him because even after all of that, even after all of my self-inflating talk about how independent and strong I was, I still missed him.

He had probably moved on from my centuries ago, but I still found myself comparing other men to James, even with the memory of our void.

“I was thinking about Emma.” It took me a few minutes to choose the right string of words to say next. “She’s been asking about you a lot lately, I just thought… It would be a nice thing to have us all together.”


“Seriously?”


“It’s been four years, Jay.” I cringed as his nickname slipped passed my lips again.

“Yeah, I know” He sighed. I could just see him laying on his bed, his hand in his hair as those bright eyes looked up at the ceiling I pictured the Pittsburgh Penguins tee shirt laying against his strong chest. I could almost smell the cologne coming off of it while he rested his arm over his eyes, letting his sleeve slip down to show the tattoos that flooded his arm.

Shaking my head, I slapped my hand against my cheek and cursed at myself under my breath until the day dream burnt up and blew away in the mess that was my mind.


“It’s an offer, you don’t have to take it.”


“I’d be there for a month or two.”


“I’m aware.” I huffed and then looked up at the time, thankful that I still had a half hour to go before I was thrust into business talk about absolutely nothing important.

“I… I want to.”


What was I doing? What the fuck was I doing? Did I really want to wake up and split my coffee with James every morning? Did I really want to fight him for the corner seat on the sectional couch at night. Did I want to include him in dinner and split food bills with him again? Did I want to hear his laugh when he played with Emma or hear him talk about hockey for hours on end? Did I really want him around?

“I’ll pick you up from the airport.”


“Are you… Okay, Char?” I nearly burst into tears when my nickname fell onto my ears. I hadn’t heard it in so long that it pulled me right out of the present and sent me back to when we were young and extremely stupid living in Dallas together. I remember the way he would brush the stray pieces of hair form my face and tell me how much he loved me. I remember the way he used to kiss me goodbye when he had early practices and I was still sleep in bed.

’Bye Char, love you.

Nodding, I rubbed my eyes with my hands and then took a deep breath, trying to shake off the emotion plaguing my stomach. “I’m fine, James. I just… I’m trying to be nice, I’m trying to put this behind us, it’s easy to be cold and distant when Emma doesn’t know what’s going on, but now, she’s five. It’s not fair to her, she deserves spending as much time with you as possible. You’re a great dad, James. I always knew you would be.” I ended in a whisper as I checked the time again. It was 6:39am. I could feel my heart beat out of my chest when I realized I would have to drop James’ call and jump directly into a meeting I wasn’t mentally prepared for.

“I’ll text you my flight information, okay?”


“That perfect, I have a conference call in twenty minutes, so-“


“I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll talk to you soon, Char.”

Nodding, I bit down on my tongue for a little before I croaked out a response. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”


“Hey, Uhm… Thanks Char, you don’t know how much… How much this means to me, you really don’t.” I could hear the shake in his voice. I could hear the underlying emotions quiver in his voice. He sounded so broken, so worried, but at the same time, I could picture his bright eyes wide and one of his stupid smiles hanging from his lips.

I wondered what he looked like when I offered him my place to stay.

“Sure,” was all I could manage to whisper as I ran my fingers over the swirls in the counter. “Bye, James.”


“Bye Char.” He whispered. As the sound of the call ending filled the tense air in the kitchen, I roughly shut the lid of my laptop and pushed it into the middle of the island. Pressing the side of my face against the cool counter, my thoughts started to scream over each other, creating a pounding sensation right behind my eyes that almost pulled the contents of my stomach up my throat and forced them onto floor.

What did I just do?
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