Page 81 of June: Jess' Story

I throw on my best bra, I double up on underwear (because apparently I’m a psychopath, too), and then layer thoughtfully. (Tank top, long-sleeved shirt, sweatshirt, and a jacket over top. And leggings under jeans.) I’m no mathematician, but I just made at least six outfits out of one. (Feel free to do the actual math and then shame me with it.)

I grab my toothbrush before heading back downstairs. I’ll have to buy toiletries and a bag at the airport.

When I get to the kitchen, Alex is sitting beside Eden absentmindedly feeding her pancakes. I want to say or do something that’ll make him go away, but again, that would lead to attention which would lead to talking which would lead to me crying. Because I’m coming to see that every time I think Alex and I could be something, it’ll end. With me crying. And I’m not even a crier.

“I can do that,” I say to his back and when he doesn’t put up a fight, just stands and moves over, I don’t know if I feel relief or misery. Relief he got up, miserable because he caved so easily.

I feed Eden until I’m certain she can’t take any more, change her one last time, and then make my way to the mudroom for our bags and keys.

“Do you need help?” Alex asks me from the kitchen.

“No, just going to meet your sister for coffee at The Grounds.”

“Okay.”

I don’t say anything back. I don’t say goodbye. I just open the side door and wheel the little suitcase out to a car that doesn’t belong to me so I can go play family in someone else’s life. Again.

I’m early. I knew I would be. But still, a part of me is surprised to see this place is actually open.

When I walk into The Grounds, a bell rings over the door and Sandy greets me. “Happy Thanksgiving!” she says merrily, wearing a brown turtleneck that’s the same color as her boots under a floral apron. She’s the picture of matronly charm.

“Hey, Sandy.” She looks me over, reading me like a large-print book.

“Honey, it’s not that cold out.” Yeah, I know.

“Just can’t shake a chill, might be coming down with something,” I lie, then say a small prayer willing Brit to get here already. She's a punctual person. She’ll be here soon.

“You want a medicine ball? A coffee?” The only thing I think I could actually stomach would be ginger tea so I decline.

“No, thanks. I’ll just wait for Brit over here.” I point to a table off to the side, away from the other customers enjoying their normal lives.

I take a seat and my leg bounces. My phone vibrates, but I don’t take it out of my pocket to check. Too nervous.

At 8:55, Brit walks in looking like a goddess compared to me. Fresh blowout, fresh-faced, like she woke up naturally rosy cheeked and happy. I bet she did, actually.

“Hi,” I say first, getting her attention, but I don’t stand up to hug her and she doesn’t stand there expectantly waiting for more either.

“Hey,” she says with a sad smile.

“Heard you got married. Congrats.”

Her cheeks go pink. “Thanks. It was just parents and kids,” she says as an explanation.

I shake my head like it’s no big deal because it isn’t. The biggest deal now is thatI unload and confess my sins, then blow this town.

“That’s okay. Sounds perfect.” I try to reassure her with a smile, but she frowns. That’s not the answer normal Jess would give. She knows it. Well, guess what? Normal Jess doesn’t exist anymore. Desperate Jess? Oh yeah, she’s present and accounted for. Soul-crushed Jess? Also here.

“Listen, I want to tell you the truth…about everything. I just need you to listen, okay?” She nods. And I unleash.

Much like it was with Sandy last night, I tell her how I first met Alex. I even tell her when I fell in love with him. I tell her that we hurt each other and that I’d circle back to that in the end. I tell her about my potential custody issues, and my inability to be a functioning responsible adult who can care for my own child independently. And she listens to all of it, wholeheartedly.

I tell her about Alex’s offer and how I jumped and how I thought maybe things between us could be real, but they’re not because we still have too many issues and he still hates me.

“So, I guess the first thing to tell you is I’ve been keeping something from you, and I don’t want any of this to hurt you. I really don’t. You always came first to me.” Brit takes a deep inhale, bracing herself. “Damian and I are friends.” I let out a little exhale, feeling the weight of some of the lies lifted. Though certainly not all of them…

“Oh…really?” she asks confusedly, but sincerely. “I thought maybe you guys were…you know…”

I look at her crazy. “Were you know…what?!”