Chapter 9 Jimmy
Jimmy
It’s been three days.
I haven’t stopped thinking about her for three days. I couldn’t get over the fact that Dom was right, and she was really here.
I tried everything I could to not think of her.
I spent extra time at the gym. I volunteered to help with mundane tasks on-site at work that I usually don’t have to deal with.
I tried to find things that needed to be done around the house so I could immerse myself in a project, but with this new house, there weren’t many projects to come up with.
None of it worked anyways. The only thing on my mind was her.
I heard her before I saw her. Her laugh. My favorite thing about her. As soon as the sound hit my ears, all the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I instinctively turned around. I didn’t know if she was actually here yet or not, but I knew I knew that voice.
I wish we had gotten to talk more. There is so much I want to talk about, to catch up on. She still looked exactly the same as the last time I saw her, and that made it so much worse.
A whole decade. That’s so much time for two people who were inseparable for so many years before that.
That word sticks in my mind. Inseparable. A quick Google search says the definition is ‘unable to be separated or treated separately.’ That was us.
People use that word all the time. Many times, for those first friends you have as kids, but usually then it’s referring to a sibling or cousin, someone they really don’t have an option to be separated from. That wasn’t us.
We were inseparable by choice. We wanted to be around each other all the time, even at seven, and those feelings never went away.
Our parents were never even really friends. They knew each other and had seen each other often, and I definitely never felt like they disliked each other. I guess they just didn’t click. Unlike us.
Once I’m situated at work for the morning, an advertisement plays on the lobby TV. Waves crash across the screen, and it does the opposite of distracting me. It brings me back to one memory in particular, her prom night.
She asked me to be her date because the boyfriend she had broke up with her two weeks before. I was aware that she may be trying to make him jealous, but it also wasn’t the first time we had gone to a dance ‘together,’ so it wasn’t abnormal for her to ask me.
Our school didn’t do anything traditionally, prom included.
It was scheduled earlier in the day, which meant it would be wrapped up by eight.
None of us wanted to end the fun that early, so we decided to rent a lakehouse for the night.
Kory and two of her other friends were dating friends of mine, so with the help of my brother, we all went in on it together.
As soon as we made it there, the girls ran right for the beach. We followed, complaining about walking in the sand in dress shoes. The soft ground shifted beneath my weight as I followed the path of glittery shoes scattered about, as they were kicked off in excitement.
I watched her laughing with her friends as they attempted to hold their dresses up, but they were failing hilariously. Her dress was so poofy, she wasn’t even close to keeping it dry, but I don’t think she cared.
She looked up at me, a smile spread from one silver dangling earring to the other. It was windy, and the Lake Michigan waves acted like the ocean, crashing all around her. Her curls were blowing violently, and her infectious laugh echoed above the other three girls.
I don’t think I ever saw her happier than in that moment.
It was also the same moment that I realized just how beautiful she was.
I remember saying to myself that I was so happy she was my best friend.
Looking back now, I know that’s when I fell completely in love with her, but I didn’t realize it then.
With that memory, I can’t take it anymore. I have to see her, so I pull out my phone. I really don’t use Facebook much for anything, a bunch of scrolling when I get bored enough, but I know she’s out there. I type her name in, find the message bubble, and just start typing.
I just want to talk. That’s it. I know nothing about how her life has been except for the fact that she is a nurse, thanks to Facebook. I type some letters, then erase. I do it again. Finally, I just settle on the most generic message I can think of.
I was really good seeing you the other day. I'd love to get together and catch up sometime when you're free.
Sent.
And now I just stare at the screen like it’s going to start talking back to me or something. What if she doesn’t respond? That would finally confirm it was me she was avoiding.
I think back to the restaurant again. Her voice led me in that direction, but I still thought I was crazy when I saw her reflection.
Like I was seeing a ghost. She smiled when our eyes met, and as I got closer, I realized I wasn’t crazy.
It wasn’t a ghostly hallucination in the window. It was her. She was here.
I smile, thinking about how great it was just to hear her voice, when my phone buzzes. She writes back already.
It was. I agree. I'm sure there is so much to talk about. i work at 3 so maybe lunch?
I wasn’t expecting today. But it’s 9:00 a.m. now, and lunch would be perfect. I write back without even checking my calendar.
Sounds great. Noon?
I send another.
Your choice.
Three little dots pop up, indicating she is typing.
Perfect/ Same place we saw each other last? I'm not sick of it yet. Lol
I smile.
Perfect. See you soon kid.
Three hours feels like an eternity. Do I have time to go home and change? Do I need to? Did I shower this morning?
What am I doing? It’s lunch. Do I tell Becca?
There’s no reason not to tell her, but at the same time, I just probably shouldn’t.
I know she’ll stress us both out for no reason.
I thought we were going to get a divorce the time I took Selena to lunch to go over performance reviews.
Selena, who was pregnant with her husband’s baby.
The three hours become one painfully slow blur. I spend the whole time trying to be distracted, yet still unable to concentrate on anything besides how slow time is passing. Finally, at 11:25 a.m. I decide to leave, even though I know I’ll get there early.
At 11:37 a.m., I walk in to find us a seat, but as I round the corner, there she is. Sitting by the window in the same spot she was in the other day.
Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, fully displaying her face. Small sections of hair hang down by each ear, helping her bangs frame her eyes and smile seamlessly. She throws her head back, laughing with the waitress, who is probably another old friend of hers. Everyone was a friend of hers.
I stand there and watch as the sun beams through the glass, illuminating her like she’s the main feature in a stained-glass art piece. She is wearing burgundy scrubs, a look I’ve never seen on her before. Grown up, Autumn.
She still looks the same for the most part, but at the same time, I can finally see where she doesn’t. She still sparkles like she always has, between her eyes, her hair, and her smile, but there’s a sophistication in her face now. One that wasn’t there before.
The waitress sees me staring, then so does Autumn, and her smile grows. As I approach, the waitress retreats. I notice she’s already gotten drinks.
“I ordered some sweet teas. For old times’ sake.” She smiles and her lips glisten, covered in subtle, yet noticeably shimmery gloss.
“Thank you,” I say, and it shouldn’t take rocket science to know that I am thanking her for two things.
For the tea, and proving I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t wait the full three hours.