Feeling This Page 3

  Entering the bathroom, I thankfully find it empty. Dan is washing his hands in the sink. It’s a bowl that has been seamlessly attached to the marble counter sprawled along the wall. He glances in my direction as I enter and nods a greeting. Then he diverts his attention to the mirror centered on the wall in front of him. My step falters and suddenly my feet stop of their own accord. He looks back with a concerned expression on his face and his voice takes on a startled, apprehensive tone. “Jordan, are you okay?”

  I push on, stopping only two feet away. “Yes, sir. I, ahh, I need to speak with you about Susan.” It’s suddenly warm and my neck feels too snug. I resist the urge to tug at my tie and loosen it.

  The lines caused by his look of concern seem to smooth over as a smile spreads. Crap, that’s not what I meant.

  Trying to fix the fact that he has the wrong idea, I stutter, “Um, it’s not about that. I mean, I want to ask you and ask her, too. I just…” This is going so wrong. Not the way I had planned at all. My hand travels up and runs through my hair. As Susan always says, it’s the telltale sign that I’m nervous.

  Quickly I lower my hand and put my hands up, as if they’ll help me explain. Finally I just blurt it out. “Sir, she needs help.”

  He frowns and confusion floods his face. I am so messing this up.

  I try to explain, “She has these mood swings. It’s as if she isn’t there during them, she’s confused I don’t know. I think she needs to see a counselor, maybe a doctor.”

  I finally got it out. But he just stands there staring at me, looking baffled. As the silence spreads, worry fills me. What if he doesn’t want to help? They have to see it though, she lives with them. How can they not see it?

  After a minute that seems to spread to twenty, he breaks the silence and tells me firmly in a voice laced with a hint of anger, “I think you might be mistaken, Jordan. There’s nothing wrong with Susan.” The anger becomes more evident. “Is this your way of breaking it off with her?” His mouth forms a stubborn line. “ I will ruin you if you break her heart.”

  If I could have predicted this, I would have decided against eliciting her parents’ help. My heart falls as the realization of his words hit me.

  I stammer as my heart beats a million miles a minute. “No, I…No, I love your daughter more than anything. I would do anything for her. I just…she needs help. I don’t know how to help her.”

  He holds his hand up, halting anything else I might have said and takes a step closer so we’re only a breath apart. He stares intently into my eyes and snarls, “There is nothing wrong with my daughter. Don’t you dare hurt her or her mother. This conversation never took place as far as I’m concerned.”

  With that he finishes wiping his hands on a terrycloth towel set out on the counter, places it expertly back, and turns to exit the bathroom. I’m left completely defeated and at a loss. His meaning was loud and clear, don’t let Susan or her mother know that I think she needs help. But how can I not?

  My back finds the edge of the counter as I stand there, unable to move. I’m not going to get any support from her parents because they refuse to admit there’s a problem. But now her dad will never let me marry her, which in the grand scheme of things doesn’t really matter. I just need to get her help. I’m losing her more and more. I can’t lose her, she’s my life.

  Feeling as low as I can but ready to soldier on without any other options, I turn to the sink and splash cold water on my face while taking a deep breath. Making my way back to the table is torturous. As I approach, everyone looks up expectantly. My eyes meet Susan’s unmistakable ones, full of pure joy. I manage a smile and glance up at the other faces surrounding her. Her father’s gaze meets mine and he nods as if we planned something and announces, “I think Jordan has something to say.”

  Confusion must pass over my face because he clarifies, “Jordan asked me a very important question in the bathroom. I think he has something to say to my daughter.”

  Did I mention earlier about Susan’s dad not having a backbone? Yeah, I completely take that comment back. He has a lot of nerve, there’s no doubt about it. Decision time, Jordan.

  Grabbing Susan’s hands, I pull her up from the chair and place her napkin on the table. I lower myself to one knee and grasp her hands, looking up into those wonderful eyes, that gorgeous face I will never tire of, and pray that she stays with me through this. Stealthily, I pull her engagement ring out of my pocket. It’s become a habit, putting it somewhere on my person when I leave the apartment, just in case the opportunity arises for me to officially ask.

  Taking a deep breath, I ask her, “Susan Marie Weller, will you make me the happiest man alive and spend the rest of your life with me?”

  My lips turn up as I push the ring onto her finger and finish, “Will you marry me and be my wife?”

  A tear falls down her cheek as she pulls me up from my knee and exclaims, “Yes, Jordan, yes.” Her mouth meets mine in a tender kiss.

  When she pulls away, she hugs me and whispers, “I love you, baby.”

  I kiss her on the cheek and my eyes meet her father’s across the table. He nods and looks over to his wife, smiling as she appraises us. Applause from a few of the surrounding tables rings through my ears. This is not the way I wanted it to happen. I kick myself silently for being so stupid.

  Susan steps back, telling me quietly with a sly smile, “Well played, Mr. Rhodes, well played. Maybe we can finish that thing after all.” I smirk at her implied meaning, thanking whoever’s in charge up there that she’s still here with me.

  Of course, we just opened the flood gates. Our moms needed that little performance to run with the planning. I’m sure a full blown wedding will soon be in the works.

  As the night continues, guests for David and Bree make their way over to congratulate us, go figure. Bree was the first, though. She came and whisked Susan off an hour ago, I haven’t seen her since. I don’t imagine I will, they now have something in common. Well, they already did, but we didn’t share that we were already engaged with anyone.

  My parents corner me at the bar as I attempt to get another much needed drink. This night is definitely unexpected.

  “Jordan?” My mom has quietly joined me. I turn just as I’m tipping the bartender and take a sip.

  “Mom.”

  “Jordan, I think we need to talk.” A frown knits itself over her eyes. I’m surprised. I was convinced she was on cloud nine now that I’ve proposed. She slides her hand through my arm and leads me out the double doors onto a patio overlooking the golf course beyond the gardens. My dad follows. It’s quieter out here, with just the incessant clicking of the turning sprinklers across the course. The moon is almost full, lighting everything, creating shadows that stretch and make everything look long.

  Once it’s just the three of us standing against the stone railing, my mom utters her concern. “Honey, I’m worried. I know you love Susan and I know you two have been together for a long time.”

  She stops mid-sentence and looks away almost as if she’s ashamed. I glance over at my dad and he looks down, not wanting to meet my gaze. What the hell is wrong with everyone tonight? I wait it out. My mom is never at a loss for words. She will eventually spit it out and I probably won’t want to hear it.

  “She…is something wrong with her, Jordan?” Now she’s piqued my interest. Maybe my parents have seen it. Maybe they can help me convince her parents.

  My words are cautious. “What do you mean, Mom?”

  “Well, dear, we were talking about the wedding one minute and then I tried to ask her something. It was as if she had no idea what I was talking about. She looked confused and then she snapped at me.”

  I ask slowly, “What exactly did she say, Mom?”

  “She told me it was none of my business and walked away. I’ve never seen her do that before. Is she,… is she stressed or going through something?”

  My dad steps up and places his hand on my mom’s shoulder. “It’s probably nothing, Jane.
She’s probably just overwhelmed with the proposal and Bree’s party.”

  I interrupt. “No, Dad, actually I am concerned. It’s getting worse. One minute we’re fine, having a conversation, and the next it’s as if she’s lost.” I run my hand through my hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

  My mom pipes up. “Honey, she needs to see someone then. I can get the name of someone if you’d like.”

  Looking down, I shake my head and admit, “I tried to tell her dad. He won’t listen.”

  I look back up, glancing back and forth between them. They’re silent for a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to approach this. I know my parents have my best interest at heart. For the most part they’re supportive in everything I do. My mom is usually the hardest to convince in times like this but I realize, she might be my greatest ally with Susan. She seems deep in thought for a minute before finally suggesting, “Why don’t I have lunch with Victoria this week and talk to her? She might be more receptive than Dan.”

  My dad looks at me. I can see the pain for my situation in his eyes. He doesn’t like this whole thing anymore than I do.

  “Yeah, Mom, that sounds great.” I lean over and kiss her cheek, hugging her.

  She pushes me to arm’s length and concedes, “I know you love her, honey. I promise we’ll figure this out. She’s already my other daughter.”

  I smile as I realize someone is at last going to help. I’ve lost sleep over this. It feels as if a tiny bit of the weight that has been weighing me down has lifted. There’s a lot more convincing to do, but this is a small step in the right direction.

  ***

  “Jordan, hey, I’m going to leave with my parents.” Susan’s voice sounds tired as I turn from talking to David and Brian.

  I stand and take her into my arms. “Are you sure? I thought we were going to finish that thing,” I tease with a smirk.

  She smiles warmly and blinks. “Can I take a rain check on that? I just need to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Of course, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I grasp her arms gently and kiss her softly.

  She calls sweetly as she turns, “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Her dad escorts her out, putting his hand on the small of her back. He looks up and meets my eyes as I stare over at them, glaring. He turns, leading both his wife and daughter toward the exit. I know her dad is going to fight me tooth and nail on this. I watch them walk out the door and turn for the bar again.

  David asks, “You okay, Jordan?”

  I nod but tell him, “I might need to catch a ride tonight.”

  “Of course, man, if you need to talk about anything…”

  I head to the bar, needing something strong. What do you do when the love of your life needs help desperately but her father stands in the way?

  Chapter Four

  Kimber

  The light in my face wakes me up. I open my eyes a slant and glare at the stupid blinds covering my window. Why does it have to be that the one blind that’s missing, happens to be right smack in the spot allowing the sun to shine directly in my face? I roll over, pulling my blanket over my head, trying to get comfortable again.

  Not even ten minutes later as I’m starting to drift again, my mom’s scratchy voice yells out, “Kimber, are you gettin’ up? Mrs. Bruin isn’t gonna pay you for time you aren’t there.”

  I roll over, cursing her. When is she gonna leave me alone? Maybe she should go and get a job herself. I climb out of bed and head straight for the shower. It makes me feel a little better, letting my sore muscles soak in the hot water. I cut it short though, too many things to do today.

  Entering my room, I check my phone for any messages. Last night as I was leaving, Becca was waiting for Tyler, a first for her, two nights in a row with the same guy. I told her to text me if she needed to. I guess the honeymoon is still going strong. I give it maybe one more day, tops. I throw on a purple tank and khaki mini-skirt, finally slipping into my Converse.

  Once in the kitchen, I find my mom sitting at the table as usual. It seems as though she hasn’t moved from last night. Sitting in front of her is the ashtray, which is full once again and a small glass of clear liquid. I don’t even want to go there. I know it’s vodka. I check my watch, it’s only seven o’clock in the morning. I turn and bite my tongue. She tries to drown her sorrows but only ends up creating grief for the rest of us. Filling a glass with water and grabbing her pills, I shake out the correct dosage and encourage her, “Momma, take your pills.”

  She chuckles. “Why should I? You’d be better off if I didn’t.”

  I sigh in frustration. “I don’t want to do this with you, Momma. Just take them so I can get to Mrs. Bruin’s. You said yourself I don’t want to be late ’cause I won’t get paid for the time I’m not there.”

  She glares up at me while placing the pills in her mouth, ignoring the water and using the small glass to wash them down instead. I turn away, annoyed, and concentrate on making coffee. I need it if I’m going to make it through the day. I pour it in a cup so I can take it with me.

  On my way out, I call in the best singsong voice I can muster, “Bye, Momma, have a good day. I love you.”

  No response, of course. I don’t bother with the kiss today. She’s in one of her moods.

  Luckily my car made it home last night with no problems. Not that I would have had a ride otherwise. Jenna left with Derek, reiterating that she didn’t want Momma to know she’s in town. They don’t exactly see eye to eye. I don’t blame her, she’s getting worse and my sister doesn’t handle things well. Derek and Jenna, oh boy, wonder how long that’ll last.

  My little Jetta makes it down the road and out onto the highway towards the college. My mom doesn’t know that I don’t go directly to Mrs. Bruin’s house on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I have two classes in the morning before I go to the Bruins’. Momma would have a conniption if she knew I was taking classes, when I should be working.

  Mrs. Bruin offered to pay for my classes but I refused. Instead she still pays me for the two hours I’m not there. I appreciate that family more than I can ever express. She took me in to help her take care of house stuff, saying she needed an extra hand. Really, I think she just took pity on me knowing that my sister left and it was just me and Momma. Whatever the reason, I thank the Lord for her and Mr. Bruin each and every day.

  The parking lot is filling up as I pull my car into a spot three rows down from the building. I’m attending Northeast Community College right now. My first class is pre-calculus. It’s tough but I’m handling it okay for not being a math person. My second class is my favorite though, creative writing. I was lucky to get the classes back to back and only three days a week. I’m not sure what I want to be ‘when I grow up’ but someday it’ll be something different than a bartender.

  I make my way to the double doors leading into the building. My class is the first door on the right and it’s a huge one. The classroom is set up stadium style, I’m guessing to get as many students in as possible, but for a math class? Front and center is where I usually choose to sit but today it seems everyone got up early. There’s nothing available, which forces me to climb up to the fourth row. I find a spot between two other students. Math is a little daunting so I usually keep to myself.

  ***

  As soon as class is over I gather my things and lean over to load my backpack. Other students file down the steps and make their exit with the exception of a pair of unmoving black boots next to me. Lifting my eyes to see who’s standing there, my heart sinks as realization hits me. Those warm green eyes I know so well and that jet black hair I’ve run my hands through so many times, I can’t count. It’s ‘the one that got away.’ My heart stops at the sight of him. Looking away, embarrassed for staring a moment too long, I shoulder my backpack and turn to walk down the row away from him. His hand darts out and gently touches my shoulder to halt my progress. My body stops of its own accord and stiffens, but I won�
�t let it turn around, no matter how much it wants to betray me.

  “Kimber?” His deep, smooth voice rolls out my name, questioning me.

  Why in the freak would he question me? He knows it’s me, oh boy does he know it’s me. I’m curious as to why he’s here in this shitty town when he couldn’t get out fast enough. But my pride is much too strong to give him the chance. I push my shoulders back, stand taller than my five foot five frame, and continue on my way without a backwards glance. Once out of the row, I climb down the steps as fast as I can and turn to make a getaway for the door. Before I make it there, he’s hovering in front of me. As much as I plead with my eyes not to do it, they look up and meet that gaze I could never get enough of. As if I’m entranced, the rest of my body betrays me. My feet stop and my shoulders sag as if completely defeated. Damn him!

  “Kimber, can we talk?”

  I stare, of course, and can’t find any words to respond. What an idiot. Instead my head nods and my feet force me to follow him as he leads us out of the classroom door. His familiar scent trails behind, creating confusion and longing. Why, oh why, can’t I handle myself when he’s around?

  Once we exit the doors, the warm Texas air surrounds me and I’m able to think a little more clearly. He hasn’t changed a bit. Checking out his backside, I notice the muscles in his back, barely visible through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt, and those jeans that hug his very tight ass. Shit, Kimber, stop checking him out.

  I inhale the sweet air from the jasmine blooming close by and focus on that smell instead as he turns to look down into my eyes. There’s something there that can only be described as sympathy and suddenly I’m defensive.