Jesse
FOUR MONTHS LATER
The smell of Marissa’s shampoo on my pillowcase pulls me out of a dreamless sleep.
I keep my eyes squeezed shut as I shift slowly into consciousness, savoring the floral scent.
A sense of serenity I haven’t felt in ages washes over me as I press my face into the fabric, breathing it in.
But as the layers of unconsciousness peel away, the rational (traitorous) part of my brain takes over, reminding me that this isn’t possible.
It’s been months since Marissa was in my bed, and any lingering trace of her has long since vanished.
In fact, these aren’t even the same sheets she slept in.
After she left, I couldn’t seem to shake the scent of her, no matter how many times I washed the bedding.
Eventually I gave up and replaced them with the first pair I found at Walmart.
They aren’t nearly as soft as my old ones, but at least they haven’t waged psychological warfare on me. That is, until today.
Reluctantly, I drag one eye open. It’s bleak outside, the fifth consecutive day of rain. The sky is streaked with gray, and a single raindrop slides morosely down the windowpane. Perfect weather for my mood.
I roll over to glance at my alarm clock. It’s 8:37 AM. I told Toby I’d meet him at the café at nine. Fuck. I bury my face in the pillow, which definitely does not smell like Marissa. I’d love to bail, but the last time I tried that, he barged into my bedroom with his marching band snare drum.
From the foot of the bed, Diesel rolls over, looks me square in the eye, and lets out a loud, gratuitous fart.
“Was that really necessary?” Diesel glares back at me, making his intentions clear. He’s been salty ever since Marissa left, like he somehow knows it’s my fault.
With a resigned groan, I force myself out of bed and stumble into the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m in my truck and headed to the café.
My wipers swat listlessly at the endless sheets, and when the light turns red, I drop my head back against the headrest and stare out the window.
Through the glass, the town looks the same as it always does.
And why wouldn’t it? This place is a relic, practically frozen in time.
I used to like that about it. No matter what else goes on in the world, my hometown is reliably consistent, as worn in as an old pair of jeans.
Decades slide by, but we’ll always have the same dive bars, the same roadside ice-cream stand, even the same William Shatner billboards. Nothing here ever changes.
The only problem is that it’s not exactly true. Things aren’t like they always were. Not since Marissa Morganstern barged into town last summer. Since then, nothing has been the same.
Behind me, an impatient horn blares, and I realize the light turned green while I’ve been lost in my own thoughts. I swear under my breath as I shift the truck into drive and make my way to the cobblestone parking lot.
My brother is already sitting at a table near the front when I step inside. I’m surprised to see Shelby and Charlotte with him.
“Toby didn’t mention you guys were coming,” I say as I take a seat.
“Well hello to you, too.” Shelby grins. “Thought we’d tag along and visit our favorite uncle. Haven’t seen much of you lately.”
I shrug as if I don’t know what she means.
But I do. It’s not that I’ve been intentionally avoiding my family.
I’ve just been avoiding everyone. Heading to work, doing my job, and then going home to spend time with Diesel.
I’m still attending Sunday-night dinners, of course, but past that, I haven’t made much of an effort.
“Oh, look who’s here.” Violet emerges from the kitchen, flinging a towel over one shoulder. “How are you, Jesse? It’s good to see you.”
“What do you mean? I come here all the time,” I mutter.
Violet shrugs but there’s something suspiciously nonchalant in her manner. She takes a seat across from me and raises her eyebrows expectantly. “So, how have you been?”
I look between the three of them. Their attention is fixed on me in a way that feels deeply unsettling. I narrow my eyes as I study them.
“What is this? What’s going on here?”
Shelby laces her fingers together and leans forward.
“Jesse, we’re worried about you. You’ve been different since…” She pauses, biting down on her bottom lip. She doesn’t finish the thought, but we all know who she’s referring to.
“We think you’re depressed, is what my wife is trying to say,” Toby chimes in.
I raise an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look, but he barrels on as he starts to enumerate observations on his stubby fingers.
“First of all, you never want to hang out. You’ve practically turned into a hermit. Second, you’ve been eating my spaghetti without issuing a single complaint.”
I shrug. “Guess I’m finally getting used to it.”
The bell jingles and someone steps through the doorway.
She’s dressed in a thick raincoat, and she stomps her feet on the doormat, shaking off the water droplets.
A sliver of red hair peeks through her hood.
The color is like an arrow to the chest. I lean forward in my chair, breath catching as I study her.
It couldn’t be, not after all this time … could it?
The stranger pulls back her hood and my heart plummets.
It’s not her. Of course it isn’t. Now that I’ve gotten a closer look, I’m not sure how I ever could have made the mistake.
Her hair is more auburn and curlier than Marissa’s soft waves.
She looks in our direction and smiles when she meets my eye.
I realize I’m scowling and quickly look away.
It’s not her fault that she isn’t the person I desperately want her to be.
The rest of the table is giving me a knowing look when I turn back around and it’s clear they’ve clocked my double take. They know exactly who I thought it was. At least they have the decency not to call me out on it.
“Look,” I say. “Was I bummed about how things played out with Marissa? Of course. But this was always how things were going to work out. We were never going to end up together. We had fun last summer, but it was never going to be anything more than that. She needed to go back to her world and live her life, and I needed to stay here.”
I stare down at my lap so they won’t see the pretense that’s surely written all over my face. Because my na?ve, treacherous heart never believed it was just a summer fling. The way I felt about Marissa was never casual. My stupid, wasted heart will be hers forever.
“Did she say that?” Violet asks softly. “Or is that just what you heard?”
The beginning of a tension headache forms on my forehead. I rub my thumb and forefinger over the skin to soothe it.
Lifting my gaze to Violet, I ask, “Are we going to order soon? I could really use a coffee.”
She crosses her arms and glares at me, but sulks off to the kitchen nonetheless. Thank god. One less person at this ambush.
“What do you all expect me to do?” I ask my remaining two interrogators. “Follow her out to LA like a lost puppy and leave you in the lurch? Let Legacy fall apart and put all of you out of work?”
Toby and Shelby exchange a look.
“You want to tell him, or should I?” Toby asks his wife.
Shelby shrugs. “He’s your brother. You can do the honors.”
A tight ball forms in my chest. I already don’t like where this is going.
“Tell me what, exactly?”
Toby tilts his head sympathetically. “Legacy Builders doesn’t need you. You need Legacy Builders.”
I squint at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Shelby cuts in, “that we love you and we love working with you. But this business would not fall apart without you. Toby is more than capable of handling all aspects of construction. I’ve got us covered on design and have started taking some online business management courses.
And whenever we need an extra set of hands, we can hire out. ”
Her voice softens. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten that this was never your dream. You took over when your dad died, and while we respect the hell out of you for it, you can’t hide behind the business forever.”
“I’m not hiding,” I object. “I’m…” I trail off, fumbling to find my next point. It never comes. Instead, realization hurls itself at me like a pile of bricks. Fuck, have I been hiding behind this job? Or was I just doing what needed to be done? Stepping in to fill a void to keep my family afloat?
This isn’t the first time I’ve been accused of prioritizing the family business over other aspects of my life.
“Do you think it’s possible that you tried to protect yourself by ending things with Marissa first? That you tried to push her away because you thought losing her on your own terms would be easier?”
My face flames under the spotlight of their scrutiny, as the pair of them peer down at me like northeastern PA’s version of Mulder and Scully. Because, as much as I hate to admit it, they are dead-on.
“Let’s face it, bro,” Toby says. “We’ve had our fair share of family trauma, and it’s left you with a fear of abandonment.”
I recoil, as if I’ve taken a physical blow. “Wait, you think this is about Mom?”
Toby tilts his head to the side, settling fully into therapist mode, and shoots the question right back at me. “Don’t you?”
Look, do I keep my distance from people? Sure. People suck, and the best way to keep them from disappointing you is to never give them the opportunity. There’s nothing wrong with that. One might even say it’s wise.
Before I can argue the point, he adds, “I’m just saying, you have a history of women leaving you. And that shit messes with your head. It makes you throw up guardrails, whether you realize it or not. And this time, it cost you the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“I was just trying to do right by her,” I protest. “This was her moment to shine. The last thing she needed was me hanging on to her coattails, dragging her down.”
Shelby purses her lips. “That’s one way to think about it. Have you ever thought about how it looked from Marissa’s perspective?”
There’s already a cold certainty creeping in.
“What do you mean?”
“It means,” Shelby says, “that you told her you’d be there for her. That you’d support her in making her dreams a reality. But when it came down to it, you bailed on her. You sent the message that you would be supportive on your terms. How do you think that made her feel?”
“I didn’t…” I start to protest but trail off.
Shit. That’s exactly what I did. Poor Marissa.
I feel awful, so I only imagine how she must be feeling.
She must think I’m just another man in her life who was happy to take but ultimately didn’t give back.
I told her that I was going to be there for her, that I supported her decision to return to work and make the type of movies that spoke to her soul.
But when it came down to it, my actions didn’t match my words.
And now she’s gone, thinking that I’m just another guy who let her down.
My vision starts to swim. How did I screw this up so badly?
Violet returns to the table with a fresh pot of coffee and my usual three-egg omelet, but I’ve completely lost my appetite. Swallowing the boulder-sized lump in my throat, I look to the three people in front of me for help.
“I need to get to LA.”
“There’s a five-thirty flight out of Scranton. One stop,” Violet says as she slides into the seat next to me.
“Or if you prefer nonstop, we can drive you to Newark,” Shelby adds. “I know connecting flights give you anxiety.”
I narrow my eyes. “May I ask why the two of you know the upcoming flight schedules to Los Angeles off the top of your head?”
They exchange looks. “We’ve been preparing,” Violet says.
“Uh-huh. And how long have you been preparing?”
Shelby shakes her head. “Longer than expected. I thought you would have gotten it together months ago.”
Violet nods in agreement. “Full disclosure, we didn’t think it would take you this long to come to your senses. Like, there’s dense and there’s”—she waves a hand in front of my face—“whatever this whole thing is.”
I stare at them, mouth agape.
“Do you guys spend a lot of time talking about me when I’m not around?”
Violet shrugs. “I mean, there’s not much else to do around here. Especially when there’s bad weather.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to take a deep breath. I can’t get distracted by the three Muppets staring at me—or worse, how long I’ve let this mistake go on. I need to focus on getting to Marissa and making things right.
Decision made, I open my eyes.
“Anyone available to drive me to Newark?”