CHAPTER TWENTY
JEANIE
“I’m choosing to end things between us.”
His words sting even now, so many hours later. My lungs and eyes ache from all the tears it took me to finally cry myself into the oblivion of sleep.
I try to block out the feelings, but they’re consuming.
Maybe it has to do with my ‘dad’ dumping me unceremoniously with Jerry and Lola, maybe it’s because Jerry is so obviously fading, losing his will to fight, or maybe it’s because my only other relationship ended with being cheated on. It feels like all the emotional blowbacks have gathered up and are striking me again.
Somehow, this is the moment when I finally accept the fact that in the end the only person I can rely on is myself. Every time I let myself depend on someone else, put my faith, my trust in them, I get the rug pulled out from under me.
Maybe Jerry was right. Maybe love is worth the risk… but I’m tired of being hurt and disappointed.
Ordinarily, I’d be getting ready to go work at the shop, but I can’t bring myself to just be ‘professional’ today, and something tells me Mason isn’t expecting to see me again. The look on his face when I showed up there last night said it all.
He wants to move on, that was clear, and it hurts too much to fight for something when you’re the only one fighting. Maybe he can act like we’re cutting things off before they really started, but I know the truth. I know what I feel and I know what I saw in his eyes that night.
I lay in bed far longer than I should, finally moving once Jinx jumps on my bed and starts licking my hand with her sandpaper tongue as if to remind me today is important, whether I have the energy to embrace it or not.
I go through the morning motions and gather my things. Jerry has his first chemo session and I need to focus on that.
Heading to the diner, I decide to walk the extra handful of blocks to the shop.
Surprisingly, the closed sign is still out, lights are off, and Mason is nowhere in sight. Briefly, I wonder if he’s reeling as much as I am—a small comfort.
I let myself into the darkened shop, debating what to do. I can’t wait for him. Maybe it’s better this way.
I place the key on the counter and go behind it, grabbing a scratch piece of paper to let him know I won’t be coming back.
I set the pen to the paper to jot the simple message, but suddenly words just start coming.
Mason—
I’m leaving you my key. I won’t be coming back. You want to keep things professional, but I don’t know how to go back to that. Honestly, I’m not even sure we were ever just professional. Since the moment we met, we’ve been a lot of things, none of them tame or businesslike.
I know you want me to hate you, and part of me wants to, but I just… don’t. What I do feel… It’s not what you seem to want, but I can’t act like it’s not there.
I can’t guess what it is you’re hiding, but I know that whatever it is, it’s not going to change how I feel. You think you know my mind, my feelings, but you don’t. I wish you could trust me enough, trust yourself enough, to see that.
What’s between us, it’s real, and I know you can feel it. Maybe you can let go of it, but I don’t know how to. You were right about one thing. There are things in life that you just don’t come back from, and for me, this is one of them.
—Jeanie
It barely scratches the surface but it’s all I can bring myself to put into writing. I don’t need to start crying again. I don’t want Jerry or anyone else worrying over me.
I leave the note and the key front and center on the counter, and head to the diner.
It’s like I’ve left something behind, but I force myself to keep walking, lifting my face to the sky, breathing in the crisp morning air and wondering how I’ll get over this.
The sun is hot on my cheeks as it warms the town, sparkling off the dew on the flower baskets that dot the streets and driving people out onto the sidewalks and in the streets as they start the daily flow.
By the time I get to the diner, the counter is already lined with patrons for breakfast. I search the bustle for Maggie. She’s busy training a new girl—one of the pretty little blonde Watson triplets. Cari, I think.
Maggie waves me over to the register when she finally catches sight of me.
“Thanks for letting me borrow the van, Maggie. I really appreciate it,” I say, touching her arm.
“Don’t you even mention it, honey. Let me find them keys,” she says, reaching under the counter for her purse and digging through the large pockets searching for them.
I look around, scanning the booths, the counter, bracing myself for a familiar head of wavy dark blond hair, but not finding it.
“By the way, when you’re making the next schedule, you can go ahead and put me down for morning or day shifts again,” I tell her.
It’s hard to think too much about anything else when you’re on the floor at the diner, and it’s maybe the best way to keep my mind off Mason.
“Oh, okay. Something happen with Mason?” she asks, up to her elbows, feeling around in her giant purple bag.
“More like nothing is happening with Mason, not anymore,” I say, trying not to sound too sullen.
Maggie looks up, her eyes wide and full of questions, but saying only, “I see. Well, I know better than to tip over the outhouse, but what a shame. He sure was a fine thing to look at.”
“You see him in here today?” I ask, hoping to sound nonchalant.
“No, don’t think I have.” She looks around quickly, then shouts. “Any of y’all seen the new mechanic?”
Down the counter, Herb Franklin, Mason’s landlord, nods, his green John Deere hat bobbing.
“Did this morning, but won’t be seein’ much of him anymore. Boy’s headed outta town, told me just today. Movin’ back to the city, he says.”
A few people around Herb gasp. Some start whispering.
So that’s it. He really is leaving.
He’d said as much, but still, with everyone tittering about it, it feels somehow more real.
Herb continues, “Can’t say I’m surprised. Folks raised on concrete always end up going back.”
I watch as the gossip spreads throughout the restaurant like fire on a dry prairie. The whispers whoosh through the air, choking me like so much smoke.
“I bet ol’ Hank chased him out after he got into fists with his boy.”
“You ever see that car of his? Probably one of those rich weirdos on some kind of a kick.”
“You know he knocked up Harper’s wife?”
“She was pregnant when he got here, y’old coot. No, I heard he was running drugs out of the shop, one of those ‘fronts’ like on that show with that actor I like, what’s his name?”
My face is growing hot wishing for once the citizens of Silver Springs could mind their own business.
Maggie stands up, keys dangling in her hand. “Here they are! Let me know how the appointment goes, won’t ya? Good luck, honey!”
She comes around and hugs me. The gesture brings me more comfort than I expected. I find myself clinging to her. For a moment, it seems like I might break.
The new girl drops a pot of coffee, scaring a shriek out of Eunice and spurring me back to reality.
I can’t fall apart right now. Jerry needs me to be strong.
I say my goodbyes and hurry to the van. It’s a tan Honda Odyssey parked across the street. I climb in, enjoying the feel of driving a car again. It’s been a year since I sold my old VW bug to pay for a water heater. The thrill of being behind the wheel again is nearly enough to make me forget about everything with Mason… nearly.
Pulling out onto the street, windows down, Little Big Town playing on the radio, I follow the grid of one-ways that forces me down Jefferson St. and past The Crank & Wrench.
I try to focus my eyes forward, but my will is weak when movement behind the smooth panes of glass catches my attention.
It’s Mason, sleeves rolled up on his jumpsuit, opening a box in the front of the store. As I pass, I see him toss the box against the wall, and despite everything else that’s passed between us, I can’t help but be a little irritated at the affront.
That’s not where that goes.
Shaking the thought from my mind, I see him pass by the counter just as I lose sight of him passing stop sign at the end of the street.
For one fleeting moment, I consider parking the van and going back in there. I could say all the things I didn’t put in that note and… what? Beg him?
No. You have more dignity than that.
He has made it pretty clear, twice now, he’s made up his mind. Besides, my note may not have said everything, but it said enough.
The way he’s going about his business tells me everything I need to know. He’s not in there agonizing or shedding any tears over my note.
I turn onto Lambert Street and head home. If he can move on, I can too. I don’t know how or how long it’ll take, but I know I’ve got to do what I can to put him and these feelings behind me.
There’s only one problem.
As I pull up to the house, I see the garage and remember the GTO. He promised to have it done on time, but he’s not sticking around to see that through.
Just one more broken dream.