Chapter 24
Aida arrived around midnight. Jo ran out to her rental car and tackled her as soon as she was on her feet. She blubbered out a thank you and held tight to Aida’s neck. They clung to each other as if it had been years, not weeks, since they’d seen each other.
“Come on, babe, let’s go inside,” Aida finally said.
Jo buried herself in her nest of blankets and pillows on the couch, where she’d wallowed ever since she’d gotten home from the slowest, most painful workday of her life. Right there in the living room, Aida dropped her suitcase, took off her pantsuit, and changed from a flowy turquoise blouse into a ratty T-shirt of Trey’s bearing the faded words “Kidz Can Code 2013.” She didn’t bother with pants.
“Did you eat dinner?” she asked, hands on her hips atop her long, bronze legs. Jo listlessly shook her head, and Aida marched to the kitchen and started poking around.
“I don’t want the pasta,” Jo said.
“Can I eat the pasta?”
“Okay.”
Aida peered into the freezer. “I’m making you chicken nuggets.”
“Okay.”
When their food was heated, Aida brought over plates and glasses of water. She’d added some wilted leftover spinach salad to Jo’s plate. Jo ate that first so she didn’t have to look at it.
Aida wriggled her way under the blankets and propped up her plate on a throw pillow on her lap. “Start from the beginning.”
Jo had told her the basics on the phone, but now she went through everything from the last two days. Aida listened without commentary and scarfed down pasta primavera. Good. Aida could eat the whole damn pan for all Jo cared. She never wanted to eat pasta primavera again.
When Jo was done, Aida was silent for all of half a second. “I told you once that I wouldn’t bring this up again, but fuck that,” she said. “I want you to talk to someone about this.”
Jo grimaced. “I’m talking to you about it.”
“Come on, Jo,” Aida said, rolling her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
She groaned, pulled her comforter over her head, and shoved a chicken nugget into her mouth. “I don’t want someone to criticize me for the last decade of my life, Aida. I know how pathetic I am for putting up with the asshole for so long. I don’t need a professional to tell me that.”
“Babe, you’re not pathetic, and that’s not what therapy is for.” Jo felt Aida’s arms encircle her—blankets, nuggets, and all. “If a therapist does that to you, find a different one.”
She scoffed. “Sure, because quality therapists are growing on trees in Ashville, Kansas.”
“Online visits are a thing. You’re just making excuses. Which means you know I’m right.”
“When’s your flight home again?”
“Fuck you too, babe. Come here.” Aida scrabbled at the blankets until she revealed Jo’s head. She held Jo’s face between her hands, her hazel eyes earnest. “Just because Jeremy criticized you for years doesn’t mean that everyone else will. Not me, not Felix, and not a good therapist. That asshole robbed you of so much joy already. I don’t want the specter of him to haunt you forever.”
“That’s more like a revenant than a specter.”
“Jo, God damn it,” Aida scolded, but the laughter in voice betrayed her. “Are you hearing me?”
“I hear you, Aida. I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” Aida smoothed Jo’s disheveled hair and cuddled against her shoulder. She kicked at the blankets until her feet were exposed. “It’s fucking hot under here.”
“Sorry. My AC isn’t great, and it’s too humid to open a window.”
“At least tornado season is over, right?”
“Yeah.”
They grew quiet as Jo ate another nugget and thought about tornadoes. And shelters. And Felix. Being in his arms. Feeling safe. She sniffled.
Aida took her hand and weaved their fingers together. “Tell me.”
“I wish… I wish I had told him I love him.”
“Do you love him? Or do you just wish you’d said it?”
Jo didn’t answer right away, giving the question the thought it deserved. Loving Jeremy had been hard sometimes. A lot of the time. Loving Jeremy had meant making excuses for him and laughing off his shitty behavior. It had meant chipping away at herself and constantly apologizing and giving up the things she loved to go along with what he wanted.
Being with Felix wasn’t like that at all. Maybe that was what made it so hard to recognize that what she felt for him… was love. She loved his smile and the gray in his beard. She loved the way he laughed at her jokes, that high-pitched chuckle such a stark contrast to his deep voice. She loved his body and the way it made her feel. She loved how kind he was, how hardworking and thoughtful and meticulous and patient. She loved that he dove headfirst into Monsters and Mythology and gave it his all and was honest about his opinion of it. She loved watching him with Tito—their affectionate gibes, the gentle way they spoke about Lita, how Felix had dropped everything to be with him when his world came crashing down.
Loving Felix was easy. It was the easiest thing in the world. Now that Jo finally saw it for what it was, it was undeniable.
“I love him, Aida. I love Felix.”
“Of course you do, babe,” Aida said with a soft smile.
Jesus Christ, even her pragmatic best friend had figured it out before she had.
“So does that mean you’re ready to talk to him?” Aida asked.
Ah, there was that pragmatism again. Thank God. Jo would be lost without it.
She shook her head. “I think—” Tears welled up in her eyes. Why was it so hard to say out loud? There was no shame in it, of course, and Aida wouldn’t judge her. (It was her goddamn idea in the first place.) But there went that voice in her head, the part of her that expected to be ridiculed and let down, warning her to be careful. And that, in and of itself, was enough to prove that this was the right choice.
Closing her eyes, she said the words that needed to be given voice. “I think I need to talk to a therapist. I need to figure out some things for me before I bring Felix back into my life.”
Aida pulled Jo in for a bone-crushing hug. The last two nuggets slid off Jo’s plate into the mass of blankets, never to be seen again.
Ashville Memorial Park was quiet that Sunday. The late-morning air was muggy and close, stirred only by the occasional breeze. Felix and Tito sat side by side on a shaded bench overlooking a small pond in the middle of the cemetery. Lita’s grave, freshly adorned with the orange and yellow gerbera daisies they’d brought, was to their right.
Tito gripped Felix’s hand tightly, his eyes following the birds that flitted down to cool themselves in the pond. When Lita was alive, their backyard had been filled with bird feeders and bird baths. She had stood on the back porch every day, drinking her morning café and counting the different birds who visited. Tito had chosen this spot for her so she would always be near the creatures she had loved so much. It was eleven months to the day since Lita’s death, and Felix hadn’t needed to ask to know how Tito wanted to spend their morning together.
“La echo de menos, hijito,” Tito whispered. “I miss her so much.”
“Yo también.” Felix draped his arm across Tito’s thin shoulders, and Tito rested his palm on Felix’s knee. Silence wrapped around them, broken only by birdsong and the rustling of leaves.
“Thank you for this,” Tito said after a while. “And please thank Jo for me for giving us some time alone today.”
“Oh, well…” Felix hesitated, staring out over the water. “We’re not seeing each other right now.”
“What? Felix, what happened?” He shook Felix’s leg. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not important right now. It’s Lita’s day.”
“Of course it’s important. Your lita wants you to be happy, just like I do. She won’t mind if we talk about it.” He turned toward Lita’s headstone. “?Verdad, mi vida?”
Felix smiled fondly.
Tito looked back at him. “She doesn’t mind. What happened with Jo?”
He shifted uncomfortably. What could he say that wouldn’t violate Jo’s privacy? He loved Tito, but the man wasn’t exactly tactful. As long as Jo worked at White Hills, he needed to watch what he said. He finally settled on, “We took some time apart to decide if we really want to be together. Things were moving fast. Too fast, and she just got out of a relationship.”
“What’s wrong with fast?”
Felix gave his grandfather a wry grin. “Says the man who took one look at Lita and told his friends he was going to marry her.”
Tito’s eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look as he gazed toward the pond. In Spanish, he said, “She was so beautiful, my María Isabel. I didn’t even know her name. I just saw her smile and knew I wanted to be the one to make her smile for the rest of her life.”
Felix replied in Spanish. “Except it doesn’t work like that for everyone. You two got lucky.”
“Lucky?” Tito shook his head. “Luck had nothing to do with it, besides putting us in the same plaza on the same afternoon. Luck didn’t make me go talk to her. Luck didn’t force her to agree to dinner with me. Luck didn’t make us get married or bring us to America or bless us with your father. Those were choices we made for each other, Felix. To work hard and give one another the best life we could.” He broke into a smile, his wrinkles deepening, and his eyes narrowing into slits. “You want to know a secret, hijito?”
“Of course I do.”
“Maribel was the third girl I told my friends I was going to marry that summer. She was just the first one who said yes to a date.”
Felix laughed so loudly he startled the birds. “You little shit!” he cried in English, giving Tito’s shoulder a gentle shove. “All this time, you made me believe it was love at first sight with you and Lita.”
Tito shrugged, grinning unapologetically. “Maybe it was. It felt like it. But love is about the choices we make, Felix. Not only the way we feel. You must know that.”
“I do,” he said. He plucked a long blade of grass and absently wound it around his fingers. “It’s good to be reminded, though.”
“So,” Tito said, nudging his knee, “was fast really the problem?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve never fallen in love so quickly, Tito. Maybe I haven’t given Jo enough time to trust me. Maybe I’m putting too much on her too soon.”
Tito was quiet, letting him stew on that. Felix couldn’t deny that he was the one who had moved things along so quickly. He’d only wanted to be honest with Jo about his feelings, but he hadn’t fully understood what her ex had been like.
Ten years. Ten fucking years of Jo being treated poorly by the person who claimed to love her. He was sick to his stomach thinking about it. She’d only been away from him for a few months. Three weeks with Felix wasn’t nearly enough time to heal from such prolonged hurt.
It wasn’t always easy, supporting her and caring for her through that kind of healing. He’d never done that for anyone before, unless he counted helping Tito through the grief of losing Lita. But grief and trauma weren’t the same, and Felix had no idea if he was helping Jo or hurting her. If he was going to do this, if he was going to make the choice to love her and walk alongside her through this, he needed to learn how to do it right.
The blade of grass was shredded into pieces, and his fingertips were stained green. An image flashed through his mind: Jo, driving her car, gesturing at the landscape around them on I-35, adamantly declaring, “Look how green it is! The air out here is so clean you can see forever.”
Felix smiled to himself, brushed off his hands, and rested his elbows on his knees. “Tito?”
“Mm?”
“When did you actually know you wanted to marry Lita?”
Tito’s bony elbow poked him in the ribs. “Marriage already, eh? You going to go propose?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I was just curious, since apparently it wasn’t when you first saw her smile.” He poked his grandpa in return.
Tito swore in Spanish and rubbed his side theatrically. Felix rolled his eyes, but he grew serious when Tito took a moment to respond. His eyes got that faraway look again, as if he were seeing a plaza in Cáceres rather than a pond in Kansas. His brow wrinkled, and tears lined his eyes.
“When I realized that the days without her were unbearable compared to the days with her. Being apart from Maribel was like being without my own arm. I almost lost her when your father was born. That would have killed me too. I never took another day with her for granted. Even seventy-one years was not enough time.” Tito paused and looked at Felix. “She really was mi vida.”
Felix gathered him into an embrace. “Te quiero, Tito.”
“Te quiero, Felix.”
Neither of them moved for a long time. Finally, Tito clapped Felix on the back, and they broke apart. Tito sniffed and dug his knuckles into his red eyes. Felix squeezed his shoulder.
“I’ll give you and Lita a minute,” he murmured and stood to take a stroll around the cemetery. He always gave his grand-parents some time alone on these visits.
As he ambled among the graves, his gaze kept returning to the grass-stained tips of his fingers. He ran his thumbs over them, remembering that moment in the car again—the moment he had let himself see Kansas the way Jo did. He raised his eyes, past the headstones and the pond where Tito sat, and turned toward Ashville. The cemetery was on the outskirts of town, on a low rise. From here, he could see almost the entire town laid out before him under the brilliant blue sky.
For the past year, Felix had been sleeping in a guest bedroom in a house that was not his, using his dead grandmother’s mugs for his coffee. The only place he’d considered his own was the dingy basement where he boxed. He’d plodded along, somewhere between happy and unhappy, getting the work experience he needed and making sure Tito survived from day to day.
Ashville wasn’t a home. It was an obligation.
Until Jo.
These last few days without her had been miserable. Felix dreamed about her at night and woke up cold and lonely. He scrolled back through their texts and the sexy pictures they’d exchanged, aching to touch her and feel her touch in return. He couldn’t even listen to his favorite workout playlist without being reminded of her.
But it was more than that.
It wasn’t only Jo’s presence that he missed. It was the way she’d opened his eyes to everything he had right in front of him. Jo had embraced this town—its places and its people—with open arms, while he had held everyone at arm’s length. She’d created a community out of thin air and brought him along for the ride. And now, for the first time, he was starting to picture what it might look like to build a life here.
Felix looked out over Ashville. He could see White Hills and the library, Stan’s and the Old Bell Diner, the community college and The Gandy Dancer. He even spotted the damn grocery store where he’d bought her a carton of milk. This town had her fingerprints all over it.
He wanted to fall in love with it, to be truly happy here. He wanted to make it his home. And, if Jo would have him, if he could learn to love her how she needed to be loved, he wanted her there beside him every step of the way.
Jo rapped on the open door of an office she’d never had cause to visit before. The middle-aged white woman inside peered at her over reading glasses, her hands coming to rest on her keyboard. She wore a sunshine yellow cardigan over a black blouse with white polka dots. She was one of the few doctors on staff at White Hills who didn’t wear a white coat.
“Yes?” she asked. “Do we have an appointment?”
“Um, no,” Jo said, clasping her hands in front of her. “Dr. Andrews, I was hoping to speak with you personally, if you have a minute.”
Dr. Andrews glanced at the clock on her wall. “I have about ten minutes. Have a seat while I finish this email.”
Jo thanked her and went inside, closing the door behind her. She folded her hands in her lap so she wouldn’t wring them. Her heart was beating so frantically she was sure Dr. Andrews could hear it despite that being medically impossible.
“Okay, thank you for waiting,” Dr. Andrews said momentarily. “What can I help you with”—her eyes darted to the badge clipped to Jo’s breast pocket—“Jolene?”
“It’s just Jo,” she muttered.
“Jo, then.” She leaned back in her cushy desk chair and crossed one knee over the other.
“Well, um, first, I apologize if this is unprofessional, but I didn’t really know where else to go.”
The doctor said nothing, regarding Jo with an open, patient expression.
“I need therapy,” Jo blurted. “I know you’re the psychiatrist for residents, not for staff, but like I said, I don’t know where else to go. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction.”
“I see,” Dr. Andrews said in a clinical tone. “Have you contacted our health insurance provider?”
Jo nodded. “I started there, but there’s a three-month wait for even a phone screening, and this is a little urgent.”
“Jo, if you’re having a psychiatric emergency, you need to call—”
“No, no! Sorry, no,” Jo cut in, her cheeks feeling hot. Christ, she was fucking this all up, wasn’t she? This had seemed like such a good plan last night, after she’d spent four hours on the phone with her insurance and gotten absolutely nowhere. “It’s not that kind of urgent. I’m not in danger, I assure you. I just want to talk to someone as soon as possible.”
“I see,” Dr. Andrews said again, as stoic as before. Jo waited, but the doctor apparently had nothing to add.
She gave it one last shot. Sitting up a little straighter, she made herself sound as professional as possible. “I’ve been feeling like my life is on hold until I can talk through some things, and I’m ready to move forward. If you have any advice or suggestions for finding a therapist in the near future, I’m all ears. If not, I’ll let you get on with your day.”
The doctor watched Jo carefully, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. When she finally moved, she did so decisively. She snatched a business card from the holder on her desk and scribbled something on the back of it. “This is a colleague of mine in Wichita. She’s out of network, but she offers sliding scale payment. I can’t guarantee that she’s accepting new patients right now, but if you mention to her receptionist that I referred you, they’ll probably at least squeeze in a consultation.”
“Oh my God, Dr. Andrews,” Jo gushed, taking the business card as if it were made of solid gold. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome, Jo. Best of luck.”
Jo recognized a dismissal when she heard one. She left, found a deserted hallway, and gazed down at the business card. “Dr. Sheila Duncan,” the back read, along with a phone number. She pulled her phone out of her pocket to text Aida the good news before her lunch break ended. Aida responded right away.
Aida
I’m making you call tonight
And I’m proud of you
Jo
Thanks. Couldn’t have done this without you, friend
How’s Merry?
Aida
Goober keeps butting into my video meetings.
Literally. Showing the camera his butt.
My clients adore him.
Jo
Guess you’re going to have to move in so they can see him all the time, huh?
Aida
I’ve already sent for Trey. He’ll be here tomorrow to join our little hobbit hole triad.
Jo
Damn it, that makes me Frodo
Another text notification popped up on the screen. Jo’s body flushed hot, then cold, then hot again, and her legs began to quake uncontrollably. She only read the first few words before the notification vanished, so she clicked over to that message thread and read the entire thing. Twice.
Felix
Hi, Jo. I’m sorry if this catches you at work, but with MnM tonight I wanted to make sure I didn’t text you too late afterward. I’m ready to talk whenever you are. Please don’t feel rushed. Take all the time you need. I just want you to know I’m here. I hope you’re doing well.
Jo had to lean on the wall to keep herself upright. He was ready. It had been less than a week, and Felix was ready to talk. She read over the text a third time to reassure herself there was no rush. She could take her time; she could trust Felix in this. Even if it had taken months for her to get a phone screen for a therapist, he would have given her whatever time she needed.
Luckily, they didn’t have to wait that long.
She opened her phone’s keypad and typed in the number Dr.Andrews had given her. A chipper voice greeted her on the other end. Five minutes later, Jo had an appointment to meet with Dr. Duncan on Friday morning. She was in luck, the receptionist told her; they’d just had a cancellation. She hung up, then leaned her head against the wall and took a minute to breathe. She had done it. She hadn’t even needed Aida’s encouragement (or nagging).
Her lunch break was definitely over by now, so she’d have to wait to tell Aida until she got home. But she had one more text to send before she clocked back in.
Jo
Thanks, Felix. I’ll let you know when I’m ready. Have fun at MnM tonight. Whenever we see each other, I hope you’ll tell me all about it.