Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jaq
My PA's number appeared on my phone screen, as I answered on the first ring.” Yeah, Barb?
What should I expect for appearances? Okay, no to David's, but yes to Nielsen.
And do you think it's realistic to have two book signings two hours in between each other?
That's what I thought. I've got a glam team on the way, so I have to prepare for that. Talk to you later.”
I had engagements planned for local press and two national—not to mention a week full of appearances to add to my stress.
So much needed to be done that I’d been looking forward to the private launch planned for a few close friends and family.
I wanted to celebrate that it was never too late to consider a career one-eighty.
Or simply reclaim the parts of you, you used to miss.
Everything was set; the location, the theme. It’d felt like I hadn't done something normal like bowling in years. Adding on all-out costume get-together, and I was a pig in shit. The only thing I wasn't sure about was whether to invite Graham or not.
We were still in situationship territory, and I wasn't sure an event involving my parents constituted as a boyfriend expectation. Was introducing an entanglement around your folks even a thing?
Graham had definitely made my transition back to New York…
more colorful. We undeniably spent more time than humanly necessary for a friends-with-benefits situation.
What made it made it harder, was that we took interest in each other's interests.
In the past, I didn't complicate friends with benefits by learning more the bare minimum about that person, but Graham wasn't built that way.
He wasn't going to sleep with someone he didn't know, which often translated into meetups for park strolls, movie dates, dinner sometimes three times a week. So, it was fair to say we knew a lot about each other for such a short amount of time.
So, what was I worried about? Certainly not that him being around my parents being too much, too soon. He was my friend; all my friends were going to be there. I should just invite him and stop being weird about it.
But what if my parents are nosy enough to ask him how old he is?
Thank God I had fairly reasonable parents who had never hounded me for grandchildren, but I knew something they would have words for is, why would I entertain a 28-year-old?
I couldn’t say, duh! because he can fuck.
But why was I even thinking about all that when I hadn't even invited him?
Before I could talk myself out of it, I recklessly sent a “Have time to attend my private launch party?” and threw my phone across the room, so I wouldn't worry about the reply.
That lasted all but two minutes, before I was digging through the cushion it had fell between, checking our text history only learn it hadn't even been read.
Of course it hadn't been read, you genius. You sent it two minutes ago. Plotting my next body of work was totally not going down at the moment, and your girl needed an emancipation from her iPhone. What normally relaxed my mind at times like this?
The person I was waiting on an answer for this text! Damn it, Jacqueline, pull yourself together. You can't be this anxious over a reply. I needed a distraction, something that made checking my phone nearly impossible.
With a quick wardrobe change, I was in a towel and ready for a shower, but halfway through, I realized I always had access to my phone, given my virtual assistant. “Siri, did I get any messages?” I called out to my bathroom speaker.
“You have no new text messages,” it rudely said back.
“Damn, so I ain't get no new messages?” I hopped out, drying myself off completely before galloping to my charger to see if he left the message on read. In a matter of seconds, it went from delivered to read. As before, I could decline the call, I accidentally picked up on his Facetime call.
“Hey,” he smiled warmly, at an angle that looked like he had the phone on his bathroom counter.
“Hey, what are you up to?”
“I was just shaving.” Not for nothing, the man could rock facial hair, but I did love him freshly shaven. “After that, I had a few hours of studying that I planned to take advantage of.”
“Wish I was over there helping you study,” I flirted.
“I like it when you help me study,” he gushed, which helping him study really consisted of me giving him a head during his times of burnout.
“Anyway, I got your message. I wish I could be there. I'm sure it's super important to you, I’m just swamped with coursework.”
“Oh no, I understand. It was just a small get together. A night of bowling with family and friends. In no way shape or form meant to force you or anything,” I assured, masking my disappointment.
“This is major for you, so I do want to celebrate. Maybe when my semester’s over—”
“No, Graham. You don't have to explain yourself. Your studies come first. No need to make it up. All you would’ve missed was corny costumes, cheap pizza, and gutter balls.”
“So, it was costume-themed?” he noted. “Who had you planned to be?” he asked with wonder in his eyes.
“Nobody with significance to more than just me. I was torn between Jeryline from Demon Knight—the best final girl to ever live—by the way. But ultimately, I choose Akasha from Queen of the Damned Or rather The Vampire Lestat’s version, cuz you know my girl Akasha ate with that one.
But it is mainly because my breasts looked the best in that one,” I joked.
“They are incredible,” he reiterated. “And would have been cool to see. I really wish I could have made it.”
“Well, I’ll let you go. I don't want to take you away from your valuable study time.”
“Catch you later, though?” as all I replied was a masked “Mmmhmm,” as he waved at the screen until it went black, my heart buried a bit into my stomach.
I was okay, right? He didn’t owe me his presence.
Granted, for casual, we did do more than fuck.
But I wasn’t always going to be his priority and that was okay.
Relieved that I was given another distraction, the chime at my front door indicated that the glam team I had hired were right on time.
One of the only things I missed about Atlanta was being the lead anchor had me prim and pampered, with wardrobe that always fit me perfectly, and makeup artists that consistently made me look awake when I wasn’t.
Rolling in racks of clothes into my living room, mentally, I was preparing for a blur of a week, and a blur it went. Book signings filled with excited kids and even more excited moms. I even saw a dad or two, which made me proud, given my own relationship with my father.
Between screaming kids and eccentric talk show hosts, I was relieved to reach the weekend, so I can enjoy the win with people I didn't find to be strangers.
They hadn't even had to give me a round of applause when I entered the bowling alley, dressed to the nines in full Akasha fashion, but I appreciated it. But I had to hit them with the “I am the answer,” line to really feel in character. And to have my friends and family drowning me with praise sweetened the pot. I’d be nowhere without the support of my two besties, but most of all, my mom and dad.
“I like your costumes,” I regarded them in Akasha-curiosity fashion, impressed that my parents had managed to come as the White Rabbit and Queen of Hearts.
“These ones could use work,” I dismissed Yenory and Carly’s, despite their amazing attempts as Annie and Pearlene from Sinners. What can I say, I was in character.
“How about we have ourselves a game?” I said, as we teamed up my dad, Carly, and my PA, Barb, and her partner.
While my mom took to Yenory and Avi’s and a guest or few of my dad’s, as between an open bar, a decent DJ and last-minute catering everyone had pitched in for, it had the works to still be an amazing night.
Maybe the one person I would have liked to be here wasn't present, but I was grateful to have so many show up for me. Even without him there, I was still truly blessed. We took a break between my team’s first loss to open gifts and scarf down some amazing food, as my parents we’re filming my reaction like they used to do when I was younger.
I guess they missed me being so close by.
By the third gift, I was reeling. “Who got me a voice changer?” Looking around, no one copping up to it. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” I spoke into it, giddy that it was fully charged. Whoever it was, knew me so well.
“Open ours next,” my mom encouraged, as it was a year membership to the Met, which included a guest. Even in my 40s, my parents encouraged me to—if not have an appreciation for art—at least always have access to creative expression. I don’t think I’d even thought about the Met since I’d been back.
“Thank you,” I hugged them both, lucky to have parents who got me, even this late in life.
“What's in the envelope?” Yenory asked, drawing my attention to it. It was just a plain envelope with Graham's name on it, and since he couldn’t make it, I’d been trying not to let him cross my mind too much. I guess he reached out to my friends, otherwise, how did it get here?
“That’s weird,” I said to no one in particular.
“It’s from a friend who couldn’t make it.
Guess he wanted to make sure I didn’t feel forgotten,” I hummed, bouncing on the balls of my feet, as I opened it.
My dad was still filming, so I was trying to hide my disappointment when all it seemed to be was a congratulations card with money in it.
But it hadn’t even been that. Just a simple piece of paper. Didn’t even say much on it, just two words. Turn around.