It’s Saturday morning and I’m at the bar. I’ve barely left here this week, working all day until closing and going home exhausted, falling into my bed that’s starting to no longer smell like her. I need to wash the sheets, but I can’t make myself do it. I refuse to until I can no longer smell a trace of her. It’s pathetic, but it is what it is.
“Go home,” Liv says, coming into our office.
“No.”
“Mike!” she yells. “Go home. You’ve been living here this week.”
“And? It never bothered you before,” I fire back. I know it’s wrong to lash out at her, but I can’t go home. She’s there everywhere I look, and I can’t take it. Not yet, anyway.
“Fine, go to Mom and Dad’s. Go to see Aaron or Evan. Or hell, David’s at my place. Go there, just leave this bar.”
I hang my head. I can’t go see Aaron because Whitney is there, and Whitney reminds me of Jamie. So do Evan and McKinley, and David. “Every fucking thing, everyone I know, reminds me of her.”
“Then go to Chicago,” she says calmly.
“What?”
“Go to her.”
“How is that going to help?”
“Do you love her?” she asks.
“You know I do.”
“Then you have to sacrifice something.”
“Give up the bar, our legacy?”
She shrugs. “You tell me. What’s worse? Think about walking away from the bar, knowing it’s still going to be in your family, or walking away from her. Which one causes more pain?”
“Her,” I choke out.
“There you go.”
“I don’t want to let anyone down.”
“How are you letting them down? You know Mom and Dad encouraged us to pursue any career we wanted. This is what we both chose. They didn’t force us into this.”
She’s right. “I’m an idiot.”
“Yup.” She grins.
“I need to go talk to Mom and Dad.”
“Yes, leave. Be gone,” she laughs.
Standing, I round the desk and pull her into a hug. “Love you, little sister.”
“Love you too, you big lug. Now go get your girl.”
I smile for the first time in what feels like weeks. Grabbing my keys and phone, I head toward my parents’ place. I find them sitting on the front porch.
“’Bout time,” Dad says.
“What?”
“We’ve been waiting for you all week,” Mom replies.
“Care to enlighten me?”
“You miss the love of your life.” Mom wipes away a tear.
I nod. “I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“Then why are you still here?” Dad asks, reaching over and holding Mom’s hand.
“The bar. I was afraid of letting you down.”
Dad laughs. “Son, you think I would’ve stayed here in this town if your mother left? No way, no how. She’s the love of my life. I was lucky we both wanted to stay and raise our family in our hometown. We don’t expect you to follow in our footsteps.”
“I don’t know if I can live in the city.”
“Can you live in the country without her?” Mom asks.
“I don’t want to,” I say honestly.
“I think that if you don’t try it, you’ll always regret it. In a year from now, you may hate the city and the two of you part ways. Or in a year from now, you could be planning your own wedding,” Mom says, her eyes misty. “Either way, Michael, you have to find out for yourself. The bar will be here if you ever need to come back to it, and so will we. You owe it to both of you to see if you can make it work.”
As I sit here on the front steps of my childhood home, I think about what they’ve said. There are bars in Chicago; with my experience, I can find a job easy. I’ll never find another Jamie. I miss her so damn much.
“I think I’m going to drive up there,” I tell them.
“Sounds like you have a plan.” Dad nods his approval.
“Yeah, Liv can handle things until I know for sure.”
“We’re here too. You go to her and let us know what you decide to do. We’re behind you no matter what. Always,” Mom says.
“I need to go.” I stand and head toward my truck.
“Michael,” Mom calls out. I stop turning to face them. “Be careful.”
I nod and race to my truck, not bothering to waste time going home. I can buy clothes when I get there. I’m going to have to come back here and settle things, if that’s what we decide to do. I just… I need to get to her. I need her to fill this giant hole in my chest. The one that’s been there since she drove away from me a week ago.
Traffic is surprisingly light for a Saturday. I’m about halfway there and need to stop for gas. I decide to text her.
Me: Thinking about you.
She replies immediately.
Jamie: I miss you, Michael.
Me: You decide when I can come and see you?
Jamie: I’ll look at some dates and get back with you.
Me: I love you.
Jamie: Love you too.
I place my phone back in the cup holder and put the truck in Drive. I’ll be there in a few hours. I can’t wait for the look on her face when she sees me at her door.
Finally, I pull into her lot, park next to her car and grin. Grabbing the flowers I stopped for at the local market, I run into the building, run to her.
I reach her door and my heart is racing like it’s ready to beat out of my chest. I don’t know if it’s because of the run up here or the fact that I’m laying eyes on her for the first time in a week. Maybe it’s because, if she’ll have me, I know I’ll never have to leave her again. Taking a deep calming breath, I knock on the door.
“Coming,” she calls out. When she pulls open the door, she gasps and covers her mouth. Tears immediately start to fall. “Mike,” she breathes. “What are you—”
I cut her off by handing her the flowers. “I miss you, Jamie.”
She nods and holds the flowers against her chest. “Come in.” She steps back, allowing me space to enter her apartment.
Boxes. I see boxes everywhere. “Are you moving?” I ask her.
She nods, tears still streaming down her face. “I didn’t know.” I walk to the window and look outside. How did I miss that? Are we farther apart than I thought? Can things change that much in a week?
“Where are you going?”
“What are you doing here?” she asks at the same time.
“You first,” I say.
“I’m not happy here anymore.” She shrugs.
“I came for you.”
“Me?”
Turning, I face her. “You. I can’t breathe without you, Jamie. There are plenty of bars here in Chicago, and with my background I can get a job at any of them. If you’re not happy here, we’ll get another apartment or buy a house just outside the city, whatever you want.”
“You came here for me? What about your family, Mike’s Tavern? You can’t give all that up.”
“I can and I will. I don’t need all that, but I do need you.” Hands on her hips, I pull her into my chest and bury my face in her neck. “I need you,” I repeat softly.
I don’t hold her nearly long enough before she’s pulling away and leading us to her couch. She takes a seat and I sit next to her, facing one another. Reaching out, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. “I missed you.”
She smiles. “You know why I’m not happy here?”
I shake my head.
“I miss you too. I realized that I’m not really home unless I’m where you are.”
I let her word sink in. “So, you said you were moving?” I question, working it out in my head. “You were coming to me?”
“Yeah.” She smiles. “I’m coming to you.
“I can’t let you do that. Your dream job.”
“Funny how life works. The job isn’t what I thought it would be. Then again, my heart isn’t in it. I left my heart in Kentucky.” She takes my hand in hers. “I was going to leave here in a few hours and drive all night. I wanted to be there at your doorstep when you woke up tomorrow.”
“What does this mean?”
She laughs. “It means I’m moving to Kentucky. I need to find a place to live, but Whit has always said I can stay with her, and Liv offered—”
“You can come back to our place.”
“Our place?”
“Yes. It doesn’t feel like just mine anymore. I see you everywhere. It’s lonely without you.” I lean in and kiss her. “Are you sure, baby? You sure this is what you want?”
“Positive. My parents want to travel, so they won’t even be here. I never let myself work it out the way I should have. I kept thinking that one of us would have to give up something to be together, but I was looking at it all wrong. I’m getting a lifetime with you. No job is worth that.”
“That’s why I’m here. I came to the same conclusion.”
“Your situation is a little different. You have roots. My job is just that—a job. It means nothing if I can’t come home to you. I already have a lead in town. Mr. Warren called a college friend of his and put in a good word for me. I meet with him on Monday.”
“In Kentucky?” I ask her.
“Yes. It’s about twenty minutes from your place, so not a bad drive.”
“Our place.” I lean in and kiss her again.
Pulling away, her green eyes are sparking. “Please tell me you drove the truck.”
“I did.”
“Good. We can hopefully get it all in one trip. My lease is up in two months, so I’m just going to let it go. I’m leaving the furniture for the next person. It was all secondhand anyway.”
“We can go buy new furniture. Anything you want.”
“I like your house the way it is. Maybe some paint, a pillow or two.” She winks.
“Our house,” I remind her.
“Our house.”
“We’re really doing this? You’re moving to Kentucky? You’re moving in with me. Not just for a few weeks, but for a lifetime?”
“We’re really doing this,” she assures me.
I kiss her quickly and then stand from the couch. “What’s left to do? What can I help with? Do you need more boxes? What do you want me to do?”
She laughs. “I’m pretty much packed. I was going to hire movers to bring it to me, but since your truck is here, I think we can get it all. I just have to clean out the kitchen and pack it up. Then I’ll be done aside from the toiletries I’ll need tomorrow.”
“Yours are still at home, in the shower where we left them,” I tell her, heading toward the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” she giggles.
“Packing the kitchen. I’m ready to get you home, where you belong.”
“Mike,” she calls out.
“Yeah, babe?” I ask, sticking my head around the kitchen door to look at her.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Now get off your ass and let’s pack.” I shoot her a wink and head back to the kitchen. I want to be on the road early in the morning.
I’m bringing my girl home.