Chapter 30 Where’s the Dog?
Chapter thirty
Where's the Dog?
Beau
My nerves are a jumbled mess as I wait for Jo to show up. After our encounter last night, we decided to get together and talk. I invited her over for dinner because I thought that would be the easiest. I’m not sure if it was a good idea. Only time will tell.
All day, I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to say, but I have no idea.
Last night was incredible–probably the best night of my whole fucking life. But I’m not sure if she feels the same way. Does she even want this to go further? After all, it’s Jo. I’ve never seen her be truly serious with anyone.
And even if she does want more, do I? Am I ready to let go of everything that happened?
I have zero answers, but I’m hoping to get some tonight. Let’s just hope that I don’t throw up between now and then.
After the house is straightened and dinner is almost done, there’s a soft knock on the door. It's so quiet that I barely hear it.
When I open it, I see Jo standing there, gnawing on her fingernails.
“Hi,” she greets as she nervously shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
“Hey.” We stare awkwardly for a moment before I add, “Come on in.”
I step out of the way, so she can step inside.
“May I take your coat?” I ask.
Why the fuck do I sound like a butler?
“Uh, sure.” As she’s taking it off, her arm gets stuck, and she wrestles with it for a minute before finally yanking it off.
At least I’m not the only one being awkward.
I take her coat and hang it on the rack by the door. Shoving her hands in her jean pockets, she walks around my living room. She moves slowly as if she’s taking in everything.
“It’s nothing fancy,” I say.
Her head snaps over to me. “No, Beau. It’s perfect. It’s so homey.”
I shrug and grin. “I don’t go out much, so I wanted my house to be somewhere I actually wanted to be.”
“Look at you.” She gives me a warm smile. “All grown up with your own house. Meanwhile, I’m crashing in my brother’s spare bedroom.”
“It’s not a competition, Jo.”
She looks away. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Still feeling like I have no idea what I want to say, I ask, “Hungry?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Great. Ziti is almost done.”
“You cooked?”
“Yes, I cook a lot actually.”
“No shit? I remember when you used to burn leftover pizza.”
I laugh. “To be fair, that one wasn’t my fault. You distracted me from watching the toaster oven.”
She starts giggling too. “My mom just about killed us for almost burning down the house. I can’t believe you learned how to cook.”
“I guess a lot of things have changed.”
Her smile falls a little. “I guess so.”
She reaches her hands above her head to stretch.
When she does, her shirt rides up just a little, showing off her ink.
Immediately, my mind flashes back to last night when she was wearing absolutely nothing.
Knowing what she looks like underneath her clothes, I’m not sure I can ever look at her the same way again.
She turns around, catching a glimpse of me checking her out. She doesn’t say anything but instead just gives a slight grin.
I do my best to clear the dirty thoughts from my mind. It doesn’t exactly work, but I’m going to pretend it did.
“I need to check dinner. Want to join me?” I ask.
“Lead the way.” When we walk into the kitchen, she adds, “It smells great.”
“Thanks. I think Italian is my favorite thing to cook.”
“Mine too. I make some wicked good pizza rolls,” she jokes.
I smile. “I don’t know if that counts.”
“Oh, trust me. At two AM, when you’re trying to soak up the alcohol, pizza rolls are the most exquisite food you’ll ever eat.”
While I check the ziti, she walks around, looking everything over like she did in the living room.
I take the ziti out of the oven to let it cool for a couple of minutes while Jo announces, “Okay, we need to talk about it.”
Shit. She wants to do this now?
“Oh, uh, okay.” I take off my oven mitts and set them on the counter.
“Where’s the dog?”
“Huh?”
“You have a giant dog bed in the living room, and in here, you have food and water bowls and a giant bag of treats. Either you have a dog or some very interesting habits.”
I laugh because that wasn’t what I was expecting. “I do have a dog. I can assure you I don’t pretend to be a furry on the weekends.”
“Too bad,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “So, where’s the dog?”
“She’s having a sleepover with my mom tonight. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.”
She grins. “I hope so.”
Since I don’t want to keep dealing with the pit in my stomach, I say, “Do you think we should talk about last night?”
I worry she’ll avoid the topic. Jo has always had a knack for that. But she gives a small nod. “Probably would be a good idea.”
I consider just starting to talk, but I figure it may be awkward if we are standing in the middle of my kitchen.
As if she’s able to read my mind, Jo says, “Do you want to go back in the living room?”
“Uh, sure.”
We walk in there, both taking a seat on the couch but leaving a decent amount of space between the two of us. I’m not sure if things should be this uncomfortable.
Yes, we went ten years without being in the same room, and yes, there was quite a bit of anger before all the nakedness. While those things would normally spell awkward in big, bold letters, this is Jo. Jo who was my best friend for years. Hell, she was my only friend.
All of this is so weird.
Jo nervously pulls her knees to her chest, waiting for me to say something.
I open my mouth, but she isn’t going to give me a chance.
“So, we had sex!”
I exhale a small laugh. “Yeah, we did.”
“And it was pretty fucking great.”
She looks at me like she’s waiting for confirmation on that.
“Incredible,” I agree. “Jo, I want you to know that I didn’t say all those things just to get in your pants. I meant everything I said.”
She looks at me with big, questioning eyes. “So, are you saying you want to be with me?”
I don’t know if that question has an easy answer. There is still a whole hell of a lot we need to talk about. I’m not sure if we will be on the same page about any of it. But once again, this is Jo. Even after everything, I don’t know that I would ever walk away from her.
Especially after last night.
“Yeah,” I reply in barely more than a whisper. “What do you want, Jo?”
As if she’s startled, she jumps up off the couch. “Okay, I’m going to say what I need to say, and I need you just to listen and not interrupt.”
With a fair amount of hesitation, I say, “Alright.”
Before she begins, she starts to pace. It’s like she’s trying to gather her thoughts.
“Look, I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
She stops pacing and points to me. “Don’t interrupt.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
“I don’t know how to do any of this. Relationships are not my strong suit. I have only ever been in highly dysfunctional ones.”
She stops pacing again. “Beau, I’m not good. Not like you are. I’m a mess. I don’t have all my ducks in a row. Honestly, I’m not even sure I have ducks at all. You deserve someone who isn’t such a shit show.”
She pauses a moment. “Beau, I think I owe you an explanation as to why I left.”
The pit in my stomach now feels like a hot ball of lava.
She nervously plays with her fingers. “You know how you and I were supposed to go off to college together?”
I nod because I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk.
“Beau, I didn’t get in.”
“What?” I ask, not able to help myself.
“You got accepted and I didn't."
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I know you. You would’ve done anything in the world to make me feel better–including staying home instead of going to school. I knew you were special, and you deserved the chance to do whatever you wanted without influence. You always let me shine. It was your turn.”
“So, it had nothing to do with that guy?”
She shakes her head. “He was just my ride out of town.” She pauses a moment before beginning again.
“I didn’t mean to stay away for so long.
Honestly, it was easier to do that than to come home and admit how much of a failure I was.
When I say it out loud, it all sounds really dumb.
I just didn’t want to ruin anything for you. ”
I honestly shouldn’t be surprised that Jo did that because she thought it was best. Clearly, it wasn’t, but the reasoning isn’t all that surprising. Jo is always trying to protect the ones she loves.
That being said, her leaving about killed me.
Jo crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me. I can see her eyes welling with tears. “I’m so sorry for all those things I said to you before I left, and I’m sorry for all the things I didn’t afterward. I just thought I was doing the right thing.”
I look at her, taking in everything she just said and trying to process it.
Crazy Jo. All of this mess could have been avoided if she’d just talked to me. An entire decade wasted because she was trying to protect me.
When I’m still silent, she says, “It was a stupid decision and likely not my last. I’m a constant disaster who has ADHD and a whole mess of other issues.
I have no idea how to have any type of relationship that isn’t a total shit show.
” Her voice cracks once more. “I just don’t want to hurt you again. ”
She looks at me, waiting for me to say something. I try to process everything she just told me.
Where do I even begin?