Chapter 27

Jessi

 

I was nervous. A wreck. I couldn’t sleep the night before and every time I rolled out of bed I found myself standing in Caleb’s room. I’d sit in the recliner in his room and watch him. Breathing in and out. Watching his chest rise and fall. Every day seemed to make him more like his father. More like the man I’d allowed myself to get close to again. I had no idea how my plan had gotten so turned around. How I had gone from wanting revenge to wanting him again. I dozed off every once in a while, committing the peaceful silence of my son to memory.

Because I had a feeling it wouldn’t stay that way.

If I wasn’t thinking about Chris, I was thinking about Justin. About how angry he had been and how blindsided he was over Chris and I being together. His blind rage tossed his care for his nephew out the window, and that didn’t sit right with me. The problem was, I could understand it. I didn’t want to and I didn’t need to, but I did. I was his sister, and I had a child with his best friend. And over the course of the past year and a half, instead of telling my brother who it was, I told him I didn’t know.

The pain he was in was probably unimaginable.

I was worried about meeting with Christopher, because I knew he was catching on. I knew he was getting curious. I could see the way he looked at Caleb whenever he was around. How easy it was for him to embrace the fact that I had a son. There had been so many moments where I watched him look into the eyes of his son, and the silent connection that seemed to bond the two of them would take my breath away. I was dreaming of him. Of us as a family. I could see Chris holding our son, rocking him in the same chair I was rocking in at three in the morning as I racked my brain.

Searching for ways I could fix all this.

The sun shining through Caleb’s window startled me awake. Caleb was still sleeping soundly. Proof that he was slowly evolving. Slowly growing. Slowly getting bigger and stronger and older.

And all without his father.

I rose from the chair and went over to my son’s crib. I placed my hand on the small of his back and felt the warmth radiating from him. I bent down into the crib and kissed the back of his head, smiling as his small baby snores fell from his lips.

I wish I had the peace he seemed to be blanketed with.

A text message came through from Chris. Outlining a time and a place to meet him for lunch today. It was a quaint little spot that served wonderful food and light cocktails for those who enjoyed their alcohol earlier than others. My hand trembled as my eyes scanned the message, taking it all in.

It was happening.

We were finally going to talk things through.

A knock came at the front door and I went rushing for it. I knew it was Marcia, but part of me hoped it was Chris. Coming over early to talk or simply to take me in his arms again. I knew I couldn’t feel that way after what I’d done and I knew I had no right to ask anything else from him. But his touch would’ve settled my mind. My heart. My soul.

Just as it had always done.

“Morning, Jessi. Has Caleb eaten yet?”

I let Marcia in as I shook my head.

“Believe it or not, he’s not even awake yet,” I said.

“Oh really? Well, that’s a first,” she said with a giggle.

“Every day seems to bring a new change in him.”

“Just him?” she asked.

I looked over at Marcia, watching a grin spread across her cheeks. She slipped from the kitchen and into the living room, then proceeded down the hallway to Caleb’s room. Just him? What had she meant by that? Was she referring to me? Was she insinuating that I had changed somehow?

I mindlessly set the task of making coffee and cracking eggs. I grabbed an overripe banana from the basket and began mushing it up for Caleb. It was going to be a long morning. Every minute that ticked by on the trail to noon would seem like an eternity. I’d never been so nervous to talk to another human being in my entire life. Even in meetings for potential gigs, I was always calm and collected and put-together. Strong fronts were needed in the modeling industry, and I always made sure to put on my best.

But this lunch with Chris? I was sweating bullets.

I prepared breakfast for the three of us, despite Marcia’ protests for me to go get ready. I wanted the monotony. The routine. I wanted time to clear my head and try to ready myself for the conversation. Because I knew what was coming. We’d talk about our argument and how Justin had approached us after the park. He’d start wondering why his best friend was so angry when he only knew we screwed a few years ago.

He’d put two and two together. He would figure out that Justin’s anger didn’t fit the situation Chris thought he knew.

I sat there and sipped my coffee as Marcia fed and changed Caleb. It felt like I was in a void. Watching my life unravel from the outside looking in. Why did Chris have to come back into town? What the hell made him leave in the first place? Why did any of this have to take place?

Why couldn’t he have just stayed gone?

“Jessi?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s eleven o’clock. Shouldn’t you start getting ready?” Marcia asked.

“Sure. Yeah. Sorry. You need anything before I go get a shower?” I asked.

“Nope. I never do. Caleb and I are always fine. Now go clean yourself up. You’re going to be late.”

I shuffled back into the bathroom, my mug of coffee still in my hands. I could feel Marcia’s eyes on me, trying to peel back my layers and figure out what was wrong with me. I knew I looked terrible. Sunken in eyes. Slumped shoulders. Vision that wouldn’t focus on any one particular thing. I set my coffee on the bathroom counter and slid my robe off, listening as it dropped to the floor.

I half-expected Chris to be there to wrap his arms around my naked skin.

The shower was hot. Scalding, almost. It was the only way I could think to shock some sense back into my system. I couldn’t go meet Chris in such a daze. He’d be more concerned about me and we wouldn’t get to talk about anything we needed to. That was the thing about Chris. He had a hard exterior and played the cocky shithead, but deep down he really was sweet. He cared. He gave a damn about the people around him. He played the asshole to stay in front of his career and reputation, but I knew him better than that.

Which was probably the reason why my plan failed in the first place.

I cleaned myself up and quickly dried off. I shook out my hair, leaving it to air dry before I went to pick out an outfit. I wasn’t sure what to wear. Should I wear something nice to try and distract him? Would it be wiser to wear something toned down, like jeans and a nice blouse? Were we going to take another walk after drinks? Or go for a car ride after eating?

Sighing, I closed my eyes as I leaned against my closet door.

I lost myself in my thoughts. Memories of being pregnant with Caleb. Waddling around while my family berated me. Mom begging me to tell her who the father was and my father chastising me about how he had raised me better. Memories of holding my stomach at night and crying out for Caleb. Begging him to come back in some fruitless attempt to convince myself he could hear me. Night after night spent waking up to the sound of my parents arguing and Justin trying to get them to shut up.

I didn’t even want to relive the fight we’d all had when I told my parents I was getting a place of my own and not coming back.

My phone ringing on the bedside table ripped me from my thoughts. Which was a good thing, because I could feel the tightness of sobs clenching my heart. I walked over to my phone and picked it up, not bothering to see who was calling.

“Jessi Park speaking.”

“You need to get to the hospital.”

“Justin?” I asked.

I held the phone out to confirm whose voice it was before I put the phone back to my ear.

“Justin, why are you in the hospital?” I asked.

“It’s not me. It’s Dad. He’s had a heart attack, Jess.”

“What?” I asked.

“It’s serious. You need to get to Keck now.”

“What happened, Justin?” I asked. “When did this happen?”

I was running around my room trying to find my flats.

“I was going to see Mom and Dad this morning, and when I pulled up to the house there was an ambulance in the driveway. Jess, they were having to shock him back as they were loading him in.”

“Shit. Shit. Uh—okay. Let me—let me just grab my purse and I’m out the door,” I said.

“Jess, I’m so—”

“We can talk about that later, Justin. I’m running to my car now. See you soon.”

I hung up the phone and stuffed it in my purse. I ran out to Marcia and told her what was going on before she shooed me out the door. I kissed Caleb on the head as tears sprang to my eyes, bounding down the steps two-by-two. I slammed into my car as my hands began to shake. I could feel my breathing shallowing out.

Was my father dying?

Was I about to lose him for good?

I sped to the hospital and raced around the building. A security guard had to slow me down and get me to stop crying long enough to talk. He escorted me to the floor I needed to be on, and once my mother came into view I threw my arms around her. Justin wrapped me up in his strong embrace before Roxy patted me on the shoulder.

“I hope it’s not weird that I’m here,” she said.

“No,” I said breathlessly. “It’s not. Thank you for—you know—being there for my brother. How bad is it?”

I turned to my mother as more tears streamed down her face.

“Mom? How bad is it?” I asked.

“He-he uh—just—it happened so fast. I’m not sure—”

“Take a deep breath, Mom,” Justin said. “He’s gonna be okay.”

“We were sitting at the table drinking a late morning cup of coffee. He slept in longer than usual, but I didn’t think anything of it. I was making breakfast like I always do. I heard him stutter his words, he grunted, then he was on the floor. Just like that. Just that quickly.”

I pulled my mother from Justin and wrapped her up in my own arms.

“He’s gonna be okay,” I said, as she sobbed into my neck. “Dad’s strong. He’s always been strong.”

“Marcus Park?”

“That’s us,” I said. “Where’s my father? Can I see him?”

“Not right now. I need to speak with his wife,” the doctor said.

“I’m right here,” my mother said. “What’s going on with my husband?”

“Mr. Park has suffered a very severe heart attack. We have to get him into surgery. We need your permission to prepare him for a double-bypass.”

“What?” my mother asked.

“His arteries are in bad shape, and an angioplasty isn’t going to cut it. He needs bypass surgery as soon as we can give it to him,” the doctor said.

“Didn’t the paramedics have to shock my father back?” Justin asked. “Is he up for something like this?”

“We don’t have another choice. He won’t make it through the day if we don’t do something now,” the doctor said.

“Then what the hell are you standing here for?” my mother asked. “Proceed with the damn surgery.”

The doctor handed off some papers for my mother to sign while he raced to prep my father. I felt my entire world caving from underneath my feet. My mother’s tears dripped on the paper as her hand shook so violently she couldn’t sign. I had to wrap my hand around hers to steady her signature so we could get his surgery underway.

“He has to be all right,” my mother said with a whisper. “He has to be okay.”

“He will be,” I said as I cupped her face. “Daddy always is.”

My phone rang in my purse and I ignored it. But the call kept coming through. Vibrating and vibrating. Rattling my purse and everything in it. I pulled it out and looked at who was calling, ready to chomp into whoever was interrupting my time with my family at this desperate hour.

And my heart sank when I saw it was Chris.

In all the chaos and insanity, I’d forgotten to call him.

“Chris, I can expl—”

“I’m over this game, Jessi.”

“Chris, you have to list—”

“I’m sick of this dance you’re dancing. You’re not making any sense.”

I looked up at Justin, whose face had now morphed into a sort of sick frustration.

“Now is not the time to—”

“Not the time?” Chris asked. “I’ve been at this damn restaurant for over a fucking hour, Jess. You told me we would sit down and talk. That we would get together and hash things out. I deserve answers. Answers I know you’re keeping from me.”

“Chris, stop.”

“I know that’s the reason why Justin’s so mad. He knows something I don’t, doesn’t he?” he asked. “What the fuck does Justin know that I don’t?”

“My father’s in surgery, Chris!”

The phone call went dead silent as everyone in my family turned to look at me.

“What?” he asked.

“You asshole,” I said with a whisper. “Since you’ve been sitting there for over an hour, did you not consider the fact that something might be wrong? That an emergency had taken place? Or something? No. You simply assumed I’d stood you up. Left you hanging. Well guess what, Chris? Not everyone does that. Not everyone reacts to things the way you do!”

I felt my entire body trembling with anger as I heard Chris draw in a deep breath.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

“Dad’s had a heart attack. He’s in surgery now. And no, I’m not leaving to come see you.”

“I would never expect or ask you to do that.”

“But you would expect me to leave you sitting there at some stupid cafe?” I asked.

“Do you want me to come to the hospital? How’s your mother? How’s Justin?”

“I don’t care where you go, but don’t you dare come here,” I said. “You don’t get to call me up on the phone, yell at me, back me into some corner you’ve designed for me, then turn on a dime when something’s wrong and come play savior when you were being an inconsiderate ass.”

“Jessi, I’m sorry. But we do need to talk, and I thought that day was going to be today,” he said.

“Well it’s not. Today’s the day I figure out whether my father’s as good as dead or alive and kicking.”

“Is it that bad?” he asked.

“Of course it’s that bad,” I said, as tears crested my eyes. “It’s always that bad.”

I put my face in my hand as tears slipped through my fingers.

“I have to go,” I said.

“Jessi, wait.”

“No. I waited for a year and a half. A year and a half, Chris. I loved you. I—”

Looking over at my brother, he was watching me intently. My mother’s eyes were bloodshot, but curious. Roxy was turned around in her chair, her face contorted in pity.

I wanted to break that woman’s nose.

“You’re the one who left,” I said flatly. “You don’t get to come back and make the demands. When you’re ready to tell me why you left, I’m ready to answer your questions.”

“Jessi, just let me come to the hospital. Let me be there for you—”

“No,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Then I hung up the phone, dropped it back in my purse, and made my way to my seat.

“You okay?” Justin asked.

I watched his hand descend on my knee as a tear fell onto the back of his hand.

“No,” I said, as I shook my head. “No, I’m really not.”