Chapter 17
JACKIE
Three weeks later
“I’m a miserable idiot. That’s how I feel, doctor.
A few weeks have passed since everything blew up between us.
Not that it was messy or ugly, but it was hurtful.
Or, well I know I hurt Sarah. And now, rightfully so, she won’t take my calls or texts.
She sent one message saying she needed time and space.
” I gave my therapist the only answer I could muster when our session initiated, and she asked how I was feeling.
My haggard image stared back at me as Dr. Potter took in everything I spewed out.
Lifeless eyes. Dark circles. Both indicators that the grief of losing what I’d just gotten back was taking its toll on me.
“We are always our own worst critics, Jackie.” This wasn’t the first time Dr. Potter had iterated this phrase to me. I tended to be hard on myself and demand perfection and organization. Just another facet of my anxiety that she was guiding me through.
“You’re not wrong, but let me tell you where I messed up, and you might change your tune.
” So, I filled our fifty-minute slot with all that had happened since Sarah and I had started whatever this was.
I took my own time and space to think about the many words we’d exchanged over the weeks and realized my fuck up.
“I had an epiphany. See, Sarah was upset that I rejected her invitation to be in a relationship, when all the while I’d never actually told her that I wasn’t even looking for that to be the outcome of our actions.
I made this whole mess. My intentions and boundaries were murky, creating blurred lines between us.
” I sighed, mostly at myself and my stupidity.
I truly thought she’d understood that being a somewhat new divorcee meant emotional baggage still lingered.
Baggage that created an obstacle to finding serious love again. Boy was I wrong.
“You’ve laid out what happened and your perceived mistakes.
Where are you at now with everything? And I ask that, because from where I’m sitting, you’ve made tremendous progress.
You’ve put yourself out there, not just romantically, albeit unintentionally, but platonically.
Old friends and new ones. And putting yourself out there is hard and scary, so give yourself some grace. ”
“To answer your question, I’m still undecided. My feelings for Sarah are confusing, mostly because I do care about her, and my attraction to her is out of this world, but this experience is all new to me.”
“I have an assignment for you, Jackie. Take out your processing journal later and map out what scares you along with what excites you about being with Sarah beyond just platonic friends. Remember that your fears can hold you back, even when they’re not detrimental.
Fearing the unknown is healthy and very commonplace.
Analyze your lists and make the best decision for yourself.
Learn to trust your judgment.” With that, we said our goodbyes and therapy ended.
I was left with jumbled thoughts and homework to compartmentalize them.
Dr. Potter challenged me to trust my own judgment, but that was easier said than done.
The past haunted me less these days, which I was grateful for, and I had Sarah to thank for that.
She absolutely brought immense joy and laughter and energy into my life.
She was effervescent. But also, the sex with her was phenomenal.
She might’ve only been my second partner ever, but the way our bodies were in tune with one another and how she interpreted nonverbal cues to bring me pleasure was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
In short, she rocked my fucking world. I didn’t want to lose that or the comfort just being in her presence brought me.
I was coming up blank in the ‘cons/fears’ column.
That should’ve told me all I needed to know, but talking to my parents would also bring some insight.
Biting my thumbnail as an anxious habit, I dialed my mom’s number, hoping she’d pick up.
“Hello, sweetheart, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She thought she was funny.
“Hey Mom, are you busy? I was hoping to come over and talk.”
“Of course, dear. Your father’s in the backyard doing god knows what, and I’m watching this video trying to learn how to crochet. I’m preparing for my old lady years.” If I was drinking something, I’d have spit it out right there. My mom was too ready to retire.
“Okay, well I’m coming over then. Be there soon.” Clutching my purse and keys, I shot a text off to my sister that I was heading out to see Mom and Dad.
Parking behind my mom’s dark blue sedan in the driveway, I killed the engine and pulled in a calming breath.
I loved my parents dearly, and they modeled what a healthy relationship should be.
That’s why I was always flabbergasted at how they reacted to my divorce, but then they were in the dark about what occurred with Timothy.
Eventually, they came around. They liked Sarah back when we were friends in high school, so I was crossing my fingers that this development wouldn’t upset them.
Before I could even knock on the front door, it flung open to my dad’s gleaming smile. He held his arms wide open, urging me to fall into a hug. He smelled like fresh cut grass and rich earth. Mom said he was trying to convince her to let him have a garden.
“Hey, pumpkin!”
“Hey, Daddy. How are you?”
The embrace ended, and he backed away, leading me toward the couch to sit.
“I’m fantastic, just been out workin’ in the yard. I’m telling you; this horticulture thing might be my second calling. Want some water?” His voice trailed off as he moved to the kitchen to open the refrigerator and gather up two bottles of chilled water.
“Thanks for this,” I twisted the plastic cap, took a sizeable gulp, and placed it on the coaster to my left on the side table. “Where did Mom go? I told her I was on my way over.”
“Oh, let me see.” Then his booming vocals call out to alert her to my presence.
I shook my head and chuckled, recalling all the moments as a child that Steph and I were scolded for being too lazy to go get the other and instead doing what he just did.
She enters the living room from the hallway that leads to the den and flashes a broad grin at me and a playful glare at him as if she hasn’t seen me in weeks instead of days.
She leans down toward me for a quick hug and peck on the cheek then takes the water my dad was drinking.
She gives him a look that says, “What’s yours is mine, right?
” Another involuntary chuckle leaves me, and my parents come to join me.
My dad takes his merlot-colored leather recliner while my mom takes up the space to my right on the matching sofa.
“So, what did you want to talk to us about, dear?” Straight to it. Thanks, Mom.
“Okay, I’ll just come right out and say it.
I’ve been seeing someone. We’ve hit a snag, though, and I’m not sure where we go from here.
I really like the person, but I’ve hesitated to commit because of everything from the past. I’m letting it rule over me, and I can’t see what’s to come without worrying.
” I took a deep breath after my brief monologue, trying to prevent the rambling in my brain from making its way to my mouth.
My mother gave me a pointed look, “Would this someone be Sarah?”
A chill ran through my spine and goosebumps broke out across my arms at my mother’s educated guess. How could she know?
“H-How did you know?” I stammered.
“Jackie, I’ve known you your entire life,” I smirk at that silly—if accurate—statement.
“When we had breakfast the other day, and you defended her to me, you had a look on your face I’d never seen on you before.
It was one I recognized clearly, though.
” She glanced over at my father adoringly, and this time, alarm fueled my reaction.
“What are you saying, Mom?”
“Pumpkin, I think she’s saying that you wear your heart on your sleeve.
You get that from me, and you struggle to hide your emotions.
It’s not something to fear. It’s just what it is.
I, for one, am happy that you’re letting someone in and opening your heart again.
” This time, moisture has pooled in my eyes, salty tears threatening to stream down my cheeks.
My mom clasped my right hand in her left, squeezing tightly for comfort.
What really spiked my anxiety, though, was the worry that Sarah saw the same thing and that I’d hurt her by trying to withhold.
Or worse, denying her the truth I hadn’t even seen for myself.
“Dr. Potter gave me an assignment to work on, encouraging me to trust myself and my feelings, but I’m so scared.
How can I trust myself with my own heart after fifteen years with Timothy?
” Now, the emotion and tears I held back fell to my lap.
Mom enveloped me in her loving arms, holding me tightly, just the way I liked that would calm me.
She let me cry all over her shoulder, sniffling through my blubbering words.
“Jackie, sweetheart, I think your therapist gave you some excellent advice, and it seems she has a lot of faith in your judgment and where it could lead you. Maybe have some faith in her.” My mom whispered soothingly against my hair.
After a few minutes, I took several deep breaths to gather my wits and sat back.
The motherly, sympathetic look adorning her face told me that nothing would change her love for me, not even who I loved.
Loved? Whoa…
Did I love Sarah? I felt immense gratitude and affection toward her and was thankful for our easy friendship, sure. But love? Goosebumps skittered again across my body, and stark realization hit me all at once. I was in love. Probably for the first time in my life.
I leapt up from my sitting position, hugging and kissing both my parents.
“I’ve got to go. Thanks, and love you!” I called back, racing out the door to my car. I had to make things right with her, and fast. Women could grovel too.