Chapter Twenty-Seven Jess
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jess
Lunch had been a bad idea. A misguided attempt to maintain the normalcy of a schedule, but Jess had eaten too many fries, and now she was paying for it. She plopped down at her desk in her office and rolled her chair forward as she opened her laptop. It had been two weeks since she had ended things with Mo. The pain still refused to deaden.
She hadn’t finished putting the most recent grades into the platform and several students had brought it up in that morning’s last class. Getting behind like that was not usually permissible in Jess’s mind, but her first tentative steps in facing her grief through online research had opened up so much that it was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other in her everyday life. An additional challenge was that the aches and pains she’d been dealing with were still there. Sometimes worse than before.
“Ms. Anderson?”
Jess looked up to find one of her most attentive students tapping on her open door.
“Hi, Sophia,” she said, waving her inside. “You’re welcome to sit down.”
Sophia shook her head.
“Thanks, but I just have a question.”
Jess smiled.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Um…” Sophia took a few steps closer, so that she could lower her voice. “Is everything okay with you? I mean, I don’t want to intrude, but…in class…you haven’t seemed like yourself.”
Jess retained her frown. Apparently, she hadn’t been covering things up as well as she’d hoped.
“It’s quite nice of you to ask. Just some stuff, but I’m okay,” she said.
“You’re sure?” Sophia asked and pulled the test Jess had handed back that morning off the top of notebook she was holding pressed to her chest. “The grade you gave me doesn’t match the number I got wrong.”
Sophia handed the test to her and Jess took a look. She was right; Jess had skipped including the points from a whole section.
“I’m sorry, Sophia,” she said, grabbing a red pen and making the corrections. “I’ll fix it on the platform right now.”
“Thanks,” Sophia said. She took a step toward the door when Jess returned her test. “I…um…I hope the stuff works out soon,” she said.
Jess was caught off guard by the sting in the backs of her eyes.
“Thanks, Sophia. That’s kind of you,” she said.
After Sophia was gone, Jess waited a couple of beats then stood to cross her office and close the door. She sighed and let her head rest against it as she turned the lock.
Unprofessional in class, unprofessional with my grading. Unacceptable.
The Faire was fast approaching. She’d been grateful for the distraction of practicing with Brian and Keith, trying to nail down the routine for the show. When she hadn’t been shooting with them, she’d been shooting at an indoor range she’d found a week earlier. The need to shoot had been intense. When she was in the middle of shooting, everything else disappeared. It was a reprieve from the physical and emotional pain of grieving Cassie, and from missing Mo. She just had to go to the Folk School as little as possible to avoid running into him. Otherwise she might crumble and beg him to get back together.
Then we’d both be miserable.
—
She sighed, pushed off the door, and returned to her desk. The joints in her hands were wailing, but she only stretched them once and got back to inputting the grades. Her phone beeped, and her heart jumped, hoping it was a message from Mo. Instead, it was Doug with more of his rambling excitement now that the Faire was a little over a week away. As she put the phone back down, she rolled her eyes, as much at Doug as at herself.
Just keep going. You wouldn’t force a lung cancer patient to chain smoke.
She wasn’t sure that was the best analogy for the situation. But she was going to be toxic waste for a while. She refused to poison Mo. Her eyes burned again, and a wave of sadness started to rise. She shook her head hard.
It’s fine. You’re a big girl. You can do this.
She whisked a rebellious tear off her face and returned to the grades.
—
That evening, after a cup of tea for dinner, Jess stuffed her pillows against her headboard and settled in for her video call with Alice and Stephanie. She’d already skipped the one right after she broke up with Mo; she couldn’t avoid this one, as much as she wanted to.
They’ll probably be happy I went to Rockford, at least. She didn’t know if she’d be able to talk about Mo.
She let out a deep sigh and clicked on the icon to start the call.
“Hola, carino!” Alice said as soon as she appeared on the screen.
“Um…hi?” Jess asked. “That sounded pretty.” Steinem hopped up on the bed and nudged himself into her lap, forcing Jess to make space for him. He stretched in view of the camera and Alice laughed.
“Good, I’m glad,” she said. “Been practicing. The ladies have been saying it to me and it’s supposed to be like, ‘Hi, dear,’ so I think it fits.” She winked. “And hello to you, too, Steinem.”
Jess smiled.
“It sounds like things are still going well,” she said.
“They are. We had—” Alice glanced down, out of range of the camera. “Hold on a sec,” she said. “Lemme just reply to this message.” Jess nodded, stroking a hand down Steinem’s back.
“Okay, sorry,” Alice said. “We had a great community meeting a few weeks ago. Some local politicians came and heard what our volunteers had to say. It went really well,” she said.
“That’s great,” Jess said. “Do you want to wait for Steph to talk about it?”
“Oh, we can talk about it now,” Alice said breathlessly.
She began explaining the event, the planning, its goals. And while it interested Jess, Alice seemed off. She was speaking quickly but repeating herself every now and again. It seemed like she was having trouble catching her breath. She also kept looking to the side a lot.
“Al,” Jess said, interrupting her. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Alice said. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You seem stressed. Or nervous,” Jess said.
“No,” Alice said. “I’m—”
Jess’s doorbell rang, pulling her attention out of the call.
“What’s wrong?” Alice asked, her lips flashing a quirk to one side. It was an odd little expression. The doorbell rang again. Twice. Jess frowned.
“Be right back,” Jess said, sliding the laptop and Steinem onto her bed. “I’ll go see what this is about.”
“De nada!” Alice said. “Wait. That’s not right. Go take care of it. I’ll be right here.”
The ringing became more incessant as Jess got down the hall and through the living room. Whoever was at the door was apparently interested in pissing her off before she opened it. She checked the peephole, and the bright purple hair she saw made her heart drop.
“Steph!” she shouted, ripping the door open.
“You know,” Stephanie said, readjusting her backpack on her shoulder. “It’s not very polite making people wait on your doorstep. I thought you Midwestern folks were supposed to be nicer than that.”
Jess, who had shrieked with happiness maybe twice in her life, let out an enormous shout of joy and launched herself into Stephanie’s arms. Stephanie hugged back, laughing, and Jess joined in. But something shifted. She needed to hug Stephanie tighter and tighter, even as her friend’s arms loosened. Suddenly a sob bubbled up, and Jess pressed her face against Stephanie’s shoulder to stifle it.
“Jess?” Stephanie asked, tone serious. She tightened her arms again. “Jess.”
Jess couldn’t answer. She was thrilled but also felt that the slightest inhale to reply would burst the dam holding back her tears. She shook her head, eyes crunched tight. “Jess,” Stephanie warned. “Inside.”
Jess let go enough so that they could get in. Stephanie awkwardly kicked her other bag in and shut the door. Jess clung to her again. Then the sobs exploded.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” whispered Stephanie. “Come on. Couch.”
They made their way over, crumpling together.
“Jess, babe,” Stephanie said, rubbing Jess’s back as she cried into her shoulder. “I don’t want to let go, but where’s Alice? She’s going to worry.”
Steph was right. Jess got a couple of quick breaths in. “My bed,” she said quickly. “Straight down the hall.”
“I’m coming right back,” Stephanie said. She kissed Jess on the crown of her head and rushed to get Jess’s laptop.
—
An hour later, the storm had subsided. Jess was lying on the couch with her head in Stephanie’s lap, the two of them facing Alice on Jess’s laptop screen. Her empty mug of tea sat beside it, next to a pile of crumpled tissues waiting to be tidied up. The surprise visit her friends had planned behind her back was the thing she didn’t know she needed the most.
“So,” Stephanie said, placing her mug of tea on the other side of the laptop. “The game plan.”
“Yes,” Alice said, pen in hand, looking at the notes she had been taking. “First things first, Jess is going to make an appointment with two of the grief counselors on the list we made. She’ll see which one she prefers and continue working with them for the foreseeable future.”
“Right, Jess?” Stephanie asked.
“Well, yes,” Jess said. “But I still don’t see why an individual counselor and a grief support group is necessary.”
Alice sighed.
“I’ve avoided bringing this up before because it seemed like you…weren’t in a place to hear it,” she said. “But a lot of the ladies my NGO works with became active in justice and gender equality after the murder of a sibling. They’ve been doing this work for years, and every now and then something triggers a memory, and they start sobbing. They told me that the grief doesn’t leave. But they got better at accepting it and living with it specifically by spending time with people who have experienced the same thing . And I’m sure a group will be especially helpful since it seems things are going to have to be on pause with your parents for the foreseeable future.”
“Oh,” Jess said. “Okay.”
“Next point,” Alice said. “Jess is going to get back in touch with her doctor and do the final round of suggested tests, just to be absolutely sure.”
“I think it has been established that my health problems were due to grief. As much as it pains me to admit that you were right, Steph,” she said flatly. “Now that we’ve figured that out, I don’t see why I need more tests.” Stephanie pinched her upper arm.
“Ouch!” Jess cried out.
“I did not just take three planes to get here and have to make small talk with an idiot taxi driver for you to be stubborn. We are going to be thorough with this,” Stephanie said.
“?’Kay, fine.” Jess sighed, already a little queasy from her distaste of doctor’s offices.
“Lastly—on this game plan,” Alice said. “Jess is going to get in touch with Mo. She’s going to—”
Jess sat up quickly.
“Ladies, I can’t. I told you. It’s going to be too much. My stuff is going to be too hurtful to him.”
“Yes, you did say that,” Stephanie said. “But it’s an excuse.”
“It’s also kind of arrogant,” Alice said.
Shocked, Jess glared at Alice wide-eyed. She shrugged.
“Men have been telling women what they can and cannot handle for centuries,” Alice said. “Any time a man has done that to you, it’s gone over really well, Ms. Archery Champion.”
Jess narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” she said. “But…” She pressed her lips together. She hadn’t told them the full truth about Mo’s sensitivity and still didn’t feel like it was her place. But there wasn’t any other way for them to understand.
“But…what?” Stephanie asked. “You raved about this guy, Jess—which, that’s a miracle in and of itself. This guy, who’s shown he respects you, doesn’t act like some dude, has a good relationship with his family and his employees, whose biggest flaw according to you is that he’s gruff around the edges but is really a big softie, was worried about you and did research to help, and you’ve decided that supporting you is going to be too much for him because…?”
“He’s neurodivergent!” Jess snapped, jumping to her feet. “It’s beyond being sensitive. It’s going to emotionally and physically harm him if he’s around me when I’m upset, and it’s not right for me to ask him to do something that’s going to be too much for him.”
“Hmm,” Stephanie said, nonchalantly checking her nails. “Did he tell you that it would be too much for him?”
“Well, no, not exactly,” Jess said.
“You just decided that on your own?” Alice asked. “Just made the decision to end the relationship in order to protect him?”
“Umm…” Jess didn’t like where her friends seemed to be heading.
“Al, does deciding what a neurodivergent person can and cannot handle without discussing it with them sound a little ableist to you?” Stephanie asked.
The air whooshed out of Jess’s lungs. She glanced at Alice.
“It does, indeed,” she said, shrugging again and putting her pen down.
Embarrassment crashed over Jess, making her skin go cold. What they were saying—that she was being a hypocrite, and even ableist—hurt, but they weren’t wrong. Her actions could certainly be read that way. Being called out was a gut punch. However, as her best friends, that was kind of their job. She plopped onto the couch. Stephanie reached out, pulled her close and hugged her. Alice picked up her pen.
“Sorry, Atalanta,” Stephanie said into her hair. “But you can be hardheaded. Sometimes we have to thump to get our message across.”
“It doesn’t mean we don’t love you,” Alice said.
“I know,” Jess said. “I love you, too.”
“So,” Alice said. “Jess is going to get in touch with Mo. See if he is interested in working things out. Because he clearly wanted to be there for her. To support her.”
“Okay,” Jess said. “I will. But I have you all, too.”
“You do,” Steph said. “But Mo doesn’t need three planes and a taxi driver to give you a hug when you need one.”