CHAPTER 45
JIMMY
The last person I expected to see in Tolson was my ex, so imagine my surprise when she showed up at Hank’s Auto Shop, looking extremely out of place in her white capris and high heels.
When she asked me if I had a few minutes to talk, I’d almost been too confused to form a sentence.
And now she sat across from me, rambling on about getting back together, and I felt like I was trapped in some bad episode of The Twilight Zone.
“Wait,” I interrupted her seemingly rehearsed speech. “That’s why you came all the way here? Because you think we’re getting back together?”
“Well…” She paused, looking unsure. “I was hoping for it, I guess. I’ve had a lot of time to think about us and—”
I cut her off with a shake of my head. “We’re not getting back together.”
“Oh.” Frowning, disappointment was written all over her face. “I just assumed with you coming back to school and all…” She trailed off with a shrug, like it was obvious.
“That I would come running back into your open arms?” I finished for her.
There was no heat or anger behind my question. I had no ill-will toward her, and that was one of the best things about being over someone. No bitterness. No resentment. Just indifference and a mixed bag of memories that would always stay in the past.
She huffed out a laugh. “It sounds kind of silly when you put it like that.”
“It’s not silly,” I told her. “It’s just not gonna happen.”
“So that’s it, then?” she asked, toying with the strap of her purse. “You’re going to stay mad at me forever?”
“I’m not mad at you.” I ran a hand through my hair as I thought about how to explain my feelings. “I’m just… over you.”
“Ouch.” She flinched. After a pause, her next words were laced with regret. “I never should’ve broken up with you.”
“No, you did the right thing. We weren’t right for each other, and I respect the hell out of you for being able to recognize that.”
As I thought about the times we’d had together, a feeling of nostalgia came over me. Football games. Homework. School dances. Movie dates. Curfews.
So many memories.
But the fondness I felt had nothing to do with her.
It was the fact that those memories revolved around a time when life was simpler. When decisions were easier. When the weight of the world didn’t rest on my shoulders.
But even with how good those times were, I wouldn’t trade it for what I had now.
“It’ll be hard seeing you around campus,” she said sadly, reaching across the table to put her hand on my arm.
I moved back because I didn’t want her touching me. As far as I was concerned, every part of my body belonged to Mackenna.
“No, it won’t,” I told her, “because I won’t be there.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. “You just said you were coming back this weekend.”
“I’m not coming back to school. I’m going to my parents’ house to get the rest of my stuff because I’m moving here.”
Eyebrows raised, she looked out at the empty streets of Tolson and I knew what she saw. Through her eyes, it probably just looked like a podunk, nothing-ever-happens-here town.
And that was partly true. But what she couldn’t see were the people I had come to think of as good friends and the pride I felt when I worked at Hank’s.
She couldn’t see the love I felt for the gorgeous-as-fuck girl next door.
Her gaze landed back on me. “So, who is she?”
“Who is who?” I played dumb.
“The girl you’ve obviously fallen in love with.”
Okay, so maybe she could see the love-struck look on my face. Just the thought of saying my girl’s name made me grin. “Mackenna.”
“Wow. You’ve got it bad.” A small smile appeared on Erica’s face, and I was glad that, despite the rejection she was facing, she was happy for me. “Well, I hope she realizes how lucky she is to be with you.”
Still grinning, I shook my head. “No, I’m the lucky one.”
*
After the short conversation, Erica and I said goodbye. The encounter with her had been unexpected, but I felt a pleasant sense of closure on that chapter of my life.
When I got off work, I practically sprinted the three blocks to Mackenna’s house.
Tonight was the night I would finally tell her how I felt. I planned to take Mackenna out to our lane and tell her I loved her.
For weeks I’d been afraid she didn’t feel the same, but after last night I didn’t have doubts about that anymore. The fact that she’d been willing to try long-distance spoke volumes.
My strides slowed when Mackenna’s house came into view because her car was gone. On my way up the porch steps, I shot her text.
Me: Hey, where are you?
Figuring I’d just wait for her to get back, I let myself into her house. I went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. That’s when I saw a note on the kitchen table.
Jimmy,
If you’re reading this letter, then you know that I’m gone.
I’ve never been great at goodbyes, and I want our last memories of each other to be good ones. I’ll never forget the way your hand felt in mine, the way your laugh gave me butterflies, and the way the setting sun lit up your face as you smiled at me. Those are the things I’ll think of whenever I miss you.
This summer, you gave me happiness I didn’t think was possible. You healed something inside of me that I didn’t even realize was broken. And although I always knew our time together was temporary, you showed me what it felt like to be loved, even if it was just for a small moment in time.
It’s important to follow your dreams, regardless of what anyone else wants.
Have confidence in yourself when you go back to Ohio State. You’re smart, passionate, and when you set your mind to something there’s no stopping you.
Best wishes,
Mack
What. The. Fuck.
Confused as shit, I read over the letter at least five times as I paced around her house. Her guitar and laptop were missing from their usual spots. There were no water bottles scattered throughout the living room.
Mackenna was gone.
She wanted me to leave? And she didn’t even stick around to say goodbye face to face. All I got was a lousy fucking letter.
Best wishes? What kind of shit was that?
Why would she do this?
Pulling out my cell phone, I dialed her number. Usually, we texted. But I needed to hear her voice. I needed her to explain to me what the hell she was thinking.
It didn’t even ring. Just went straight to voicemail. I tried again a few more times, knowing the result wasn’t going to be any different. When it was clear that she’d shut her phone off, effectively shutting me out, it felt like my entire ribcage was caving in.
I struggled to breathe as I leaned my elbows on the kitchen counter. I thought I’d experienced heartbreak before, but I was wrong.
What I felt after my last breakup barely registered on the Richter scale.
This was a fucking tsunami.
Slamming the front door so hard the house shook, I stomped down her porch steps and my pain morphed into rage.
I felt the old me rise to the surface, and I needed an outlet for my anger.
The flimsy garbage can was the closest thing to me, and it became my unfortunate target.
My fists landed on the metal over and over again. Every dent was a representation of my mangled heart. It crunched and groaned until it was an unrecognizable heap of steel. At some point, the garbage bag inside burst open and trash went flying everywhere.
I gave it one last kick, realizing the neighbors probably witnessed my meltdown.
I didn’t give a fuck.
Out of breath and drained of energy, I slumped down onto the lawn and hung my head between my legs.
What was I supposed to do now? Wait for Mackenna to come back? Hunt her down, just like her ex?
Then what? Experience what it was like to have her rip my heart out face to face?
I was so fucking confused.
Then my eyes zeroed in on an object in the grass by my foot. A small, thin white piece of plastic with a pink cap on the end.
I might’ve been a guy, but I knew what it was.
The stick was facedown and my heart raced at what could be on the other side. My hand shook as I reached for it. Pausing, I took a deep breath before quickly flipping it over.
Two pink lines side by side. What did that mean? Was it good? Bad?
Not even caring about what a lunatic I looked like, I crawled around on all fours, searching the garbage for an instruction pamphlet.
I didn’t find it. What I did find was even better—another stick. This one had a blue tip and there were no codes to crack.
Pregnant.
One word, and my whole world flipped upside down.
Mackenna was pregnant. I was going to be a father. Happiness unlike anything I’d ever known filled my body until it was a physical, tangible thing. I could feel it in my heart all the way to my toes.
I wanted this life. With Mackenna. With our baby. We were going to be a family.
But then my stomach lurched.
Is that why she left me that letter? Did she want me to leave because she didn’t think I’d be a good dad? Was I really so much of a fuck-up that she didn’t even think I should stick around to be there for my kid?
I thought Mackenna was different. I thought she saw past the tattoos and the mistakes, and saw me for who I was on the inside.
I took out the letter and read through it again, even though every word was burned into my mind.
She didn’t say anything about a baby. Which meant she didn’t want me to know.
The failure and disappointment I’d experienced at the beginning of the summer was nothing compared to this. This wasn’t about skipping class or not studying enough for a test.
This was real life shit.
This was the kind of permanent thing Grandma talked about two months ago. This was what all the other little mistakes were supposed to prepare me for.
Did Mackenna really think they were better off without me?
That was the only possible conclusion I could come to, and tears of anger and sadness filled my eyes. Only this time, the feelings were so overpowering that there was no possible outlet.
No punching bag was big enough. No amount of alcohol could dull my senses.
As I wiped the wetness from my eyes, I stuck the pregnancy test in my pocket, and went to Grandma’s garage to grab a new trash bag. I diligently cleaned up the yard and set the new bag by the curb.
I barely registered Grandma’s voice as I flopped down onto the edge of my bed and buried my face in my hands.
“Jimmy? Jimmy. You’re freaking me out.” She nudged my shoulder. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
“I think Mackenna broke up with me,” I rasped out.
“What do you mean you ‘think’? Either she did or she didn’t.”
I shook my head. “She left me a note. Said she was gone and she wanted me to go back to Ohio.”
“I’m confused.” Her voice turned sympathetic. “That doesn’t make any sense. That girl loves you, Jimmy. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
I didn’t want to tell Grandma about the pregnancy. Because then I’d have to tell her the real reason Mackenna didn’t want me to stay, and it was too painful to say out loud.
“She doesn’t even want to talk to me,” I said quietly. “She turned off her phone and everything. I’m guessing she’s probably at her parents’ house, but I don’t know where they live.”
Grandma left the room and when she came back a minute later, she threw something heavy onto the bed next to me.
“It’s called a phonebook, Jimmy. Ryan and Grace Connelly. Go get your girl.” She let out an exasperated sigh before leaving again, muttering something about ‘fucking kids these days,’ ‘Google,’ and ‘Skypetime.’
I stared at the phonebook, knowing this was a pivotal moment in my life.
I could push my ego aside. I could find her parents’ address, go demand an explanation, and beg her to stay with me.
Instead, hurt and anger clouded my judgement and I made a different decision.
Reaching under the bed, I pulled out my old duffle bag and started to pack my shit.