“I’m not sure about this…” Jordan’s brow furrowed and I smiled for the first time in weeks. His fork squished the grits on his plate and he stuck out his tongue. “Yuck, Mel. No way.”
My laughter bubbled past the walls of my chest. “Abuela will be heartbroken.”
At my statement, Jordan closed his eyes and brought the grits to his lips. He chewed cautiously and then gulped as if eating sand.
“Well?” I asked with my brows raised.
He shook his head hard and I giggled. The sound of it lifted about twenty tons of cement from my shoulders. Life didn’t always have to be hard. Moments come and go, and I was trying to remember to hold on to the good ones. I shifted my gaze to the open dining room of the restaurant. Our lunch rush was meager for a Saturday, but it probably had something to do with the foot of snow on the ground. Utah had been hit hard this winter and it still hadn’t stopped. Unfortunately, we had at least another two months of the season left to endure. I scowled as I watched through the window as the flakes fell to the ground. My drive home was going to suck.
Home.
The word had me itching to pull out my phone and reread the last message Kieran had sent me. It was three days ago when I woke up to several texts messages from him. It was interesting that I hadn’t heard from him in two weeks until I’d told Kelly I was quitting Irene’s. I hadn’t expected it, but the timing hurt, nonetheless. Was he texting me so I wouldn’t quit, or because he really missed me… or both? I guess I could’ve replied and found out for myself his intentions, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t let myself go there with him. We weren’t right for each other, and I’d never be able to look at him again without remembering how his loving eyes had turned into pools of horror and repulsion the day he’d split. That one look had left me utterly vacant.
“Aunt Mel, do I have to eat these?” Jordan’s whiny voice rescued me from my train of thought.
I lifted his plate from the breakfast bar. “Nah.”
His smile was quiet. “Thanks.”
I felt his blue eyes following my movements as I scraped my mother’s attempt at “real southern grits like my grandma used to make” into the garbage. My back was facing him when he spoke next, but the slight shudder in his tone set my teeth on edge.
“What was my father like?”
My breath hitched, and I had to gather myself before I turned around. We’d all avoided the elephant in the room since the night JoJo had found out about his real biology.
I wet my lips, and set his plate into the gray tub of dirty dishes before I finally turned around and was met with eager and appraising eyes.
“He was handsome like you,” I said with a sad smile. Jordan’s lips stretched as I continued. “In fact, when I met him, I’d thought he was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen.”
His smile waned. “But he was sick.”
I nodded at his regurgitated line. “He really was.”
His dark eyes held so many questions. He was too little to know everything, too young to be burdened with every truth, but his confusion and wonder would only grow. And, as his curious eyes found mine, the years ahead of me played out in short bursts behind my eyes. He would always have hard questions, and our relationship might not always be good, and the revelation had tears fighting for the surface.
“Do you think… do you think he would have liked me? If… if he had gotten better like you?”
My heart pounded as I answered, “JoJo, he would’ve loved you.”
There was no need to break his heart, and who knew, if Chance had ever gotten sober, he might’ve been a great dad. We might’ve been so many things.
“Jordan. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish things could’ve been different, that I would’ve chosen to get better sooner… but all you have to remember, kiddo, is that I always wanted you. Even when I was sick…” All my mistakes, the fear of losing Jordan one day, all of it swelled inside of my lungs, and I could barely breathe. “Y-You were always my number one, and that’s why Maria is your mom and not me, because I would’ve never let you get hurt.”
“You wouldn’t have hurt me, Aunt Mel.” The trust in his eyes burst inside my chest.
My eyes burned as I leaned over the counter and kissed his forehead. “I don’t know, JoJo, I was in a very bad, bad place, and I think even though letting you go hurt me, I did the right thing.”
“And you still get to see me all the time.” He added with a smile. His innocence the tether binding us together.
“I do, best part of my day, kid.”
He beamed, but then widened his eyes. At first, I wasn’t sure why he looked so nervous all of a sudden, and then I heard her voice.
“You ate them already? Were they good?” my mother asked as she stepped up to the counter.
JoJo’s eyes darted to mine and I had to stifle a giggle. “He gobbled them right up.”
Mom clapped her hands. “I knew you’d like them. I’ll make them for you next week, too.”
Jordan’s expression fell just enough, I noticed, as he nodded his head. My mother, on the other hand, missed it completely. I couldn’t contain my smile. She was listing ingredients that she wanted to try next. Cheese Grits… spicy shrimp. JoJo’s smile tipped into a frown the longer the list got. I was about to speak up, save the poor kid, when my phone rang in my pocket. I quickly pulled it out and Jaime’s name flashed across the screen.
“I have to take this,” I said to no one in particular as I headed toward the bathroom.
I was halfway down the private hall when I answered, “Hey, Jaime.”
“You can’t be serious,” he asked by way of greeting.
“I can’t stay there.”
“Because of that guy? Fuck him, Mel.”
I expelled an irritated breath as I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. “Jaime, I need my job back, at least until I can—”
“No, Mel, I can’t. I can’t hire you and then have you quit on me again.”
“No?” I asked. Shock colored my tone.
“No. You’re too good for this place, and I won’t let you take a step backward, not again. You’re a smart girl, stay the fuck away from this place. Never come back, you understand. Don’t let some asshole ruin everything you’ve worked for.”
“Jaime, I need the money.”
“Then stay at the shelter, get a job at another shelter, shit, work more hours at your parents’ place, but you’re not coming back here, I’m sorry, but I won’t allow it.”
Furious tears bit at the corners of my eyes while anger warred with the feeling of gratefulness in my stomach. My muscles tightened as I attempted to hold in a sob. He’d never told me no, not ever. And yet, he’d made me feel like I might actually be able to get my shit handled; that maybe I didn’t need that place, need him after all.
He sighed noisily. “Mel, I’m here, and if you really were in a bad way, you know I’d help you, but you have other options now, use them, all right?”
I swallowed. “Okay.” My answer was desiccated and hoarse.
“Don’t be a stranger.” I could hear the emotion in his voice and it almost broke the dam I’d started to rebuild the day Kieran stormed out.
I hung up the phone without an official goodbye and held it against my chest. My life had been defined by pitfalls and disappointments and every single one of them was my own damn fault. It was time for me to leave it all behind. I was sober. I was healthy. Every secret I’d hidden had been unearthed. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were so tired, but they were keen, driven, and Jaime was right… I had other options. But I didn’t want them, not really.
I let my eyes fall to my phone, and when I unlocked it I knew I was doing the right thing. It would be hard, and maybe I’d have to avoid my own feelings for a while, but I loved Irene’s, and I wasn’t going to let another one of my fuck-ups ruin my life.
My fingers typed out a short text.
Me: Can I still have my job?
It didn’t take her long to reply.
Kelly: Duh. Of course.
Kelly: I’m happy dancing right now.
Kelly: Don’t ever freak me out like that again or I’ll fire you.
She wouldn’t
Kelly: Just kidding. Yay! See you Monday.
Me: See you then.
It had taken me twice as long to get to Maria’s house. I was sitting on her couch drinking hot tea and watching some weird British television show about a guy and a blue telephone booth. My feet were sore from working a double shift, and my clothes were damp from the snow. My sister had gotten stuck and wasn’t able to pick up JoJo so I had to bring him home before I could head to my apartment.
“Thanks for picking up the dinner shift. Was Jordan a pain?” she asked a bit out of breath. She plopped down onto the recliner just across from me.
“He was fine. He got bored so Dad had him fill the to-go salsa cups, and I’m pretty sure he ate half of it.”
She laughed. “He’s getting so big. I hope I can keep up with his appetite.” Maria’s gaze turned serious. “He’s been asking about you… about everything.”
“I know, he asked me today what Chance was like.”
Her eyes filled with a slight tension. “And?”
“And I told him he was handsome. What was I supposed to say?”
“You said the right thing.”
It took all of my energy not to roll my eyes. “I can do the right thing, Maria… sometimes.”
“I know that,” she argued.
“Do you?”
She sat up, shifting to the edge of the recliner. “I do. You think I don’t see you, Mel. You think Mom and Dad still worry, still think you’re going to mess up, but that’s on you. We all see how far you’ve come. We love you and we’re proud. We trust you, Mel… when will you start trusting yourself?”
I really wanted to. “I’m trying.” And I was. After today, after talking with Jaime, I’d felt my confidence stretch its unused wings.
She tapped her fingers on the arm of the overstuffed chair. “He wasn’t a setback, you know?”
Confusion knitted my brows. “Who? JoJo? I know that.”
She shook her head. “Kieran. I can see how you would think that, but he wasn’t. He was a step forward. You opened up, and it fell apart, but you didn’t. You’re still here, in one piece, and I know you’ll keep moving forward. I just wish you could know that for yourself.”
A little over two weeks was hardly proof that I wouldn’t self-destruct. I inwardly cringed. She was right. I was my own worst critic.
“I’m trying,” I repeated. “I may need reminders every now and then.”
She smiled and leaned back into her chair. “I know.”
“Mom.” Jordan’s sleep-drunk tone echoed down the hall.
“I’ll be right back,” she said as she stood. “He fell asleep half-way through the last chapter of The Prisoner of Azkaban, he probably just wants me to finish it.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said and then took a quick sip of my tea.
She wasn’t gone more than two minutes when my phone buzzed inside my pocket. I set my teacup onto the coffee table and pulled it from my jeans. An unknown number flashed across the screen, but I knew who it was. I’d deleted it from my phone just the other day. I’d taken a screenshot of his last poem and then deleted his contact information. It was the only way I could trust myself not to call him. Out of sight, out of mind. My phone vibrated again, but this time, instead of calling, he’d sent a text. The phone kept vibrating though. Several texts messages at once lit up my lock screen.
My pulse accelerated as I stared at the small device in my hand. Terror and anticipation. It was the perfect concoction for nausea, and it’s what I’d felt every time I’d think about him. I glanced down the hall and listened for Maria. I could hear her slightly muffled voice. It was rhythmic, and I assumed she was reading to Jordan again. My eyes moved back to the weapon in my hand, and I unlocked the screen with trembling fingers.
There were eight text messages.
Red is the color of sin, and I painted myself in its fiery shade.
Red is the color of lust, and I allowed its flame to consume me.
Red is the color of the rose, and it always stains your cheeks.
Red is the color of the sweater you wore on our second date, and it was the night it became my favorite hue.
Red is the color of betrayal, and it threatened to burn forever to the ground.
Red is the color of anger, and its sun has begun to set.
Red is the color of forgiveness, and it’s dipped in love and hope.
Red is the color of my heart, and when I gave it to you… I wanted you to keep it.
Tears blurred my vision as I read the words over and over again. Each one more beautiful than the last. I wiped under my eyes with my free hand and savored the air in short, ragged breaths. Every last cell, every damn molecule in my body pressed and pushed for me to respond, pleaded with me to tell him everything could work out. But, my relationship with Kieran was toxic. Lethal for both of us. I’d been so frightened to tell him who I really was because I hated myself. Kieran had every right to run away that day, but all it had done was prove to me all the terrible things I’d already felt about myself. His rejection was justified, and staying away protected me and protected him.
Maria had told me to trust myself, and I wanted to feel positive about the choices I’d make from here on out. And as much as I wanted to try again with Kieran, I couldn’t shake how awful I’d felt when he’d walked out that kitchen door. I was at a precipice. I wanted to see myself in a healthy light. I needed to move on, and I needed to do it alone.
My mouth was dry as I tried to swallow past the taste of salt and regret. The sob in my chest… I willed it into submission as my fingers deleted every last message.