Monday passes with no sign of Jamie. Well, I do hear him taking Gus outside for a potty break early in the morning, while I’m sipping my coffee, but I can hardly run out dressed in my PJs just to catch a glimpse. I try not to feel disappointed, but it’s difficult. The last thing I need right now is to develop a school-girl crush on someone I can’t have.
Tuesday, I head home during lunch to grab a quick bite and pick up some packages I need to mail. Just as I’m coming out of my apartment, I encounter Jamie and Gus coming up the stairs. And they’re not alone. Jamie has the pretty blonde with him, as well as the hunky redhead I saw a few nights ago.
“Jamie, hi,” I say, as I lock my apartment door.
Jamie looks so handsome in his black leather jacket and dark glasses that it makes my chest hurt. I notice that the blonde’s eyes are wet with tears. When she sees me, she wipes her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater and smiles hesitantly.
Jamie smiles too. “Hi, Molly. Going out?”
“Just running to the post office,” I say. “I have some small paintings to mail.”
I try not to look at the blonde, who seems a little upset at the moment. She really is stunning, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a lovely face dominated by beautiful blue-green eyes. Although we’re about the same height, she’s willowy thin and I’m not. Jamie has his arm around her, and he’s rubbing her arm.
“Molly, this is Beth Jamison, my brother Shane’s fiancée. Beth, this is Molly Ferguson, my neighbor. She’s a very talented artist.”
“Shane’s fiancée? Oh.” Well, that certainly clears up the mystery of who the blonde is. I can feel some pent-up tension seeping out of me. She’s not his girlfriend. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s unattached. Besides, even if he was free, I have no business getting involved with him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Beth,” I say, giving her what I hope is a genuinely warm and friendly smile. I feel ashamed for having been jealous of her. I glance once more at Jamie, drinking in the sight of him. “Well, I’d better get going. I’ll see you later, Jamie.”
He smiles at me. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I head downstairs and out of the building before I pause to take a deep breath. She’s his brother’s fiancée. Not his girlfriend then. I shouldn’t feel so relieved, because her relationship to Jamie is none of my business, but I can’t help noticing there’s an extra bounce in my step as I go about my business.
* * *
After work, I hop a train out to Naperville to visit my parents. They’re both retired and living quite happily in a condo community for seniors in the suburb. They’re both faring well in retirement, considering my mom is eighty and my dad is eighty-four. I was a bit of a late-in-life surprise. They’d long given up on the idea of conceiving a child, until one day, surprise! They found themselves expecting me.
They have the typical ailments of adults their age, but overall they’re doing fine. I make it a point to visit weekly, to check on them and see if they need anything.
“Hi, honey!” my mom cries, as she greets me at the door.
“Hi, Mom.” I give her a hug. She smells like cinnamon, so I know she’s been baking, which is not a surprise. “What smells so good?”
“I made Snickerdoodles,” she says. “And a pot roast for supper tonight. I hope you’re hungry.”
“You bet I am.” My mother’s a wonderful cook, and as we all know, “food is love.” She tries to fatten me up every time I visit. I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need any more extra pounds. “Thanks, Mom. It smells delicious.”
“Hey, there’s my Molly-Moo,” my dad says, as he joins us in the foyer, towering over my mom’s petite form. He wraps me in his long arms and gives me a tight squeeze. “How’s it going, kiddo?”
“Fine, Dad.” I may be thirty-two years old, but I’ll always be a kid to my parents. My mom still calls me on rainy mornings to remind me to take an umbrella with me if I go out. “How about you?”
“Fine, fine. I got eighteen holes in yesterday before the snow started, so that’s good.”
My dad took up golf after he retired from his career as a pediatrician. My mom, also a former pediatrician, took up baking and bird watching. Both of their hobbies keep them physically active, which is good.
We sit down to a delicious dinner, followed by my favorite cookies for dessert. As we’re eating cookies and drinking coffee, they grill me on my business. They were both terrified that I’d go broke after I divorced Todd and had to support myself on my fledgling art business. But I’m happy to inform them that I’m not in danger of missing a rent payment or starving anytime soon.
After our meal, we sit in the sunroom, surrounded by my mother’s jungle of plants, and listen to the chirps and tweets coming from her little aviary of finches. Mom’s little black cat, Yuki, curls up in my lap and purrs as I scratch behind her ears.
We talk about everything and nothing until the hour grows late and my dad nods off in his favorite recliner chair. I say goodnight and call for an Uber to take me back to the train station, as it’s too cold and dark for me to walk.
On the train, I make a valiant attempt to occupy myself with reading, but my mind keeps straying to thoughts of Jamie. I think about the dinner he might have made for me if I’d had the guts to say yes. My excuse was that I was keeping him safe from Todd, but I’m not sure that’s the whole truth. I think I’m afraid to get close to someone again. Afraid to face more rejection.
I recall how Jamie comforted Beth in the hallway earlier today, rubbing her arm and holding her close. She’s obviously going through a rough patch right now. I think Jamie would be a dream partner for any woman, even with his blindness. I just wish I could be a dream girlfriend. But I’m not. I’m defective, and I’m only just now beginning to realize the ramifications of my choices.