Chapter 75
HARLOW
“You really don’t have to do this,” Spencer says, sliding into the passenger seat of my car. “I could’ve gotten a car to take me.”
“I’m aware, but Monroe wanted to take you to the airport.”
He glances in the backseat at her. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” she says in a ‘duh’ tone. “You’re going to be gone forever so we have to have a long goodbye.”
Spencer frowns. “It’s not forever, sweetie. Just four months and I’ll be back for your birthday.”
“Are you sure? Google told me you’re going to be four-thousand miles away and that seems like a lot of miles.”
“It is,” he replies as I put the car in drive. “But I won’t let miles keep me away from my girl on her birthday.”
I glance in the rearview mirror and find Monroe’s happy smile.
She’s not happy her dad is leaving for so long. In the big scheme of things, four months isn’t terribly long, but for a little girl that feels like forever.
I hadn’t planned on taking Spencer to the airport, but when Monroe asked yesterday if we could, there was no way I could say no her.
School starts for her next week, and she’s already voiced her displeasure that Spencer won’t be able to come with us on her first day like he has every year in the past.
“What’s it like on a plane?” she asks him.
“Crowded,” he replies. “But I think you’d love takeoff and landing.”
“What does that mean?”
He launches into an explanation and answers her follow up questions.
I white knuckle my steering wheel getting to the LAX drop-off.
I’m not a fan of driving around the airport.
I pull up to the departures and Spencer slaps a pair of sunglasses on his face, his trusty baseball cap, and yanks his hoodie up over that.
He might be famous, but he hasn’t reached the level of flying private just yet.
Considering what I suspect he’s filming, that could very well change once that movie releases.
I hop out of the car, following him to the trunk.
“Sorry,” I say about my ancient car. “You have to jiggle it a bit.”
He shoulders his backpack once it’s open and grabs his checked luggage. Opening the backseat door, I hear him tell Monroe he loves her. When she begins to cry, he does his best to comfort her, but there’s only so much he can do, because no matter what, he’s leaving.
“She’ll be okay,” I assure him, when he finishes hugging her.
“I know,” he sighs, staring at me.
We need to go our separate ways. I have no doubt we’re seconds away from being reprimanded, but it’s like neither of us can move.
Finally, he says, “I know Monroe is going to call me, but maybe you could call me some, too?”
“Maybe.” I’m not trying to be a tease, but I don’t know what’s going to be best for me.
“Maybe,” he repeats. “All right.” He nods. “I’ll take what I can get.”
He goes to walk away, but I grab his arm. “You’re not going to hug me goodbye?”
He cocks his head to the side. “I wasn’t sure you wanted that.”
“A hug would be okay.”
He lets go of his suitcase and wraps me into the tightest, warmest hug of my life. My body practically melts into him, sighing in relief because he feels like home.
When he lets me go, he’s grinning, and I’m glad at least we’re parting ways on a positive note.
“I’ll check in with you on my layover.”
“Okay. You better go.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, rubbing his jaw. He seems to be warring with something and yet it still takes me by surprise when he kisses my cheek.
With that, he wheels his suitcase behind him and heads for the entrance.
I’m sliding into the car when he looks back over his shoulder.
I lift my hand in a wave, and he does the same.
Then, he’s gone.
The ice cream shop is mostly empty when I park. When Monroe asked if we could stop for ice cream, there was no way I could tell her no. Not today.
There’s an excited skip in her step as we head inside. “Can I send a picture of my ice cream to my daddy?” she asks, eyeing up all the flavors behind the glass case.
“We can, but he might not get it until later.”
“I want that one.” She points to the pink and blue cotton candy flavor.
It’s finally our turn to order, so I let her tell them what she wants before I get my own. Sitting down at one of the bistro tables by the window, we dig into our ice cream. I think I needed this treat, too.
I’m halfway through my two-scoop order—it’s a multiple scoop kind of day—when Monroe lights up in front of me. “Jae!” she cries, hopping up from her chair and taking off in a sprint.
My head whips around to look behind me and sure enough, there he is, looking just as surprised as I do.
Monroe all but tackles him and he rocks back a step in surprise.
Neither one of us look away. There’s shock in his eyes, as I’m sure there is in mine, but there’s also unmistakable pain there. Pain I know I’m responsible for, so as much as I want to drop my gaze, I don’t, because I deserve to face his hurt head on.
“Are you going to get ice cream and sit with us?” Monroe asks eagerly.
“Oh, um…”
“I’m sure Jae has to grab his ice cream and leave,” I tell her. Forcing my eyes back to his, I add, “But you’re welcome to sit with us if you want.”
I haven’t laid eyes on him in months, and he looks rough. Slimmer, with tired eyes, and his hair shaggier than normal. He pushes his glasses up and nods.
“It’s good to see you,” he says to Monroe. He crouches down to be on her level. “Can I have a hug?”
She doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck, and he closes his eyes, a look that’s almost like relief on his face.
When he straightens, Roe takes his hand and tugs him over to the glass case. “Pick your flavor, Jae.”
He glances at me again, a hint of amusement on his lips.
After he’s ordered and paid, Roe drags him over to our table.
“Roe,” I scold lightly. “Let him go. He might need to leave.”
She releases his hand with a huff. “Is that true? Do you need to leave?” she asks him accusingly.
“No, I … uh … I can stay. If it’s cool with your mom.” He cocks his head to the side, gauging my reaction.
“I already said you could sit with us.”
He shrugs. “I thought you were only being cordial.”
“No.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “Sit with us.”
It’s awkward, there’s no denying that, but it’s also good to see him.
“How have you been?” I ask. It feels weird making small talk with someone I once knew so intimately.
He laughs, the sound not quite humorous, but not hollow either. “I’ve been better.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I should’ve guessed that.”
“How are you and Spencer?” he asks, and I know what he’s getting at.
“I’m fine, but we’re not together.”
He frowns. “You’re not?”
“No.” I lick my spoon clean. “I don’t think jumping into a relationship right now is in my best interest. I’m going to therapy and trying to fix me.”
Surprise fills his eyes. “Good for you.”
“My aunt Willa got married,” Roe interrupts. “I got to be the flower girl.”
“Oh?” he asks surprised. “When did that happen?”
“About three weeks ago now,” I answer.
“I didn’t know they were planning to get married this summer?” There’s an accusation in his tone, like maybe I purposely kept this information from him.
“It was a surprise to all of us. She was able to secure an internship at St. Joseph’s, so they were in the area all summer and I think with everyone being so close they thought it made the most sense.”
“Yeah, I suppose that does. And good for her on the internship.”
Grabbing my wallet, I dump out a few quarters for the toy capsule machine. “Do you want to go get anything?” I ask Roe, sliding the quarters across to her.
She licks her lips free of the last of her ice cream.
“Yes!” She takes the coins without a second thought and darts off to the other end of the shop. I rarely let her get anything from those machines so she’s not going to turn it down.
With her gone for the moment, I turn my chair to face Jameson more fully.
“I want you to know, for whatever it’s worth, that I’m sorry.
Truly. What I did was abhorrent and you didn’t deserve it.
It was never about you and everything to do with me.
I want you to know that. I’m working on things.
But yeah … I’ve wanted to tell you that, because I hate to think you’ve wondered what you did wrong or what you could’ve done better, when there’s nothing. ”
He nods, his fingers tapping against his cup. “Thanks. I didn’t know I needed to hear that, but I did.” He wets his lips with his tongue and leans toward me. In a hushed whisper, he says, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” I admit.
He slides his glasses up his nose when they slip. “Do you think … do you think there’s a chance of us getting back together?”
“Jameson,” I sigh. His shoulders sag immediately at my tone “No. I don’t see that and I’m sorry.
Again, it’s nothing to do with you. Even if you could forgive me for what I did, I would always think about it when I’m looking at you, and I’d hate myself for it.
I don’t want to live my life like that.” He nods in understanding.
I place my hand over his. “Hear me when I say I know the perfect woman is out there for you. I wanted to be her so bad, but I’m just not, and I hope when the time comes, you’ll be willing to open your heart. ”
He doesn’t look convinced by my words, and I’m not quite sure I can blame him. Releasing his hand, I stand, and he does too.
We toss our trash, and I grab Roe from the front. He walks with us out to the parking lot, and he hesitates by my car.
“Bye, Roe,” he says, bending to give her another hug before she hops in the car.
When he straightens, he faces me with a sad, but resigned expression.
“I guess this is it, then.”
“I guess so,” I agree.
He nods and slides his hands in his pockets.
“Bye, Harlow.”
I smile softly, fondly. A small piece of my heart will always belong to him, I think.
“Bye, Jameson,” I echo.
He dips his head in acknowledgment and heads to his car across the street. I watch him go and find that I feel lighter than I have in months.
Closure isn’t always easy, but it is needed.