Jackson flared his nostrils, looking away and shaking his head. His fists were clenching and unclenching again, and I felt uncomfortable. I would do anything to change the subject, because it all just led back to me needing Jackson and him not being there for me.
“Hey, why don’t we go make a pizza?” I offered.
He looked over at me, and I could tell he wanted to say more, wanted to ask more questions. He must’ve decided against it, because he stood up then, reaching down to help me stand. We headed for the kitchen and dropped the subject, but I didn’t let go of his hand until we passed the kitchen doors.
***
At one o’clock, Jackson joined a family FaceTime, and I stayed out of view on the other side of him. We were sitting at the bar now, and had each finished our third piece of pizza.
I could hear Julie and Marie’s voices in the background, a male voice that I assumed was Sam, and little kids giggling.
“I have a surprise visitor here with me,” Jackson said. He swiveled in his chair to face me. “Hold up your middle fingers so I can turn the camera to you.”
I laughed, covering my face. “I’m not going to do that, it’s disrespectful.”
I heard Julie’s scream. “I already know who it is by the voice! Britt, get over here!” I assumed Britt was her wife.
Then I heard Marie ask, “Surprise visitor?”
“I’m not turning the camera around until you double-flip the bird,” Jackson encouraged.
“There’s children,” I argued.
“And Julie is their aunt. They’ve seen a middle finger,” Jackson said with an eye roll. “Come on, it’s funny!”
I let out a groan before holding up two middle fingers. Screams erupted from the phone, and I heard Julie tell Britt that I’m like a little sister to her. She didn’t say “used to be”—she spoke in the present tense. My heart ached, because I missed her just as much as I had missed Jackson.
“Oh, is that Addison? Let me see you,” Marie said.
Jackson let me take the phone from him, and when I did, I couldn’t help the tear that fell from my eye. Marie’s hair was almost fully gray now—I knew she’d had Jackson later in life, so she must be almost seventy now. I had missed out on her aging, and something about that fact hurt so deeply. I had been so close to her for years, and lost so much time I could’ve had with her. At the same time, it felt like I had just seen her yesterday; like I was still a fourteen-year-old girl, standing in this lobby, askingfor a job.
She was crying, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re radiant, honey,” Marie said, trying to get control of her tears.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said quietly.
I waved to Julie’s wife, and Sam gave an awkward wave. I hadn’t ever really talked to him, so this was anticlimactic for him. His two sons were sitting on either side of him, and they looked like carbon copies of Jackson and Sam. They were watching me with confused looks on their faces, and suddenly I got the feeling this was a bad idea.
It was like the kids read my thoughts. “Where’s Aunt Sophie?” one of them asked.
I shoved the phone back into Jackson’s hands and heard him say, “She’s visiting her sister.” I swung through the kitchen doors before I could hear anything else.
I put my hand over my chest to calm my heart. I was sure I was having a heart attack. What was I doing? What the actualfuckwas I doing?
I turned around and came face-to-face with the bulletin board. The picture of me and Jackson from graduation stared back at me. I stormed toward it, ripping it from the corkboard and sending the tac flying across the room. I ripped it in half perfectly, so that I was disconnected from Jackson. My smiling face with the diplomas on one half, him with my legs around his hips on the other. I threw both halves in the trash and walked out the back door.
***
I had walked for thirty minutes by the time Jackson pulled the truck up beside me.
He rolled down the window and called out to me, “Jesus Addie, don’t just leave like that. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
A part of me felt bad for worrying him, but another part didn’t care. Because I shouldn’t care. Because what I do shouldn’t matter to him.
I didn’t say a word as I opened the passenger door and got in. It was humid as fuck today, and I was drenched in sweat. It was soaked through my shirt already, and the truck’s A/C felt heavenly.
“Can you take me home, please? I’m not feeling well,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, you probably gave yourself heatstroke,” Jackson said. He wasn’t fighting me on it, because he probably also knew that me joining the FaceTime was a bad idea. It made him look like a cheater, and that mademelook bad. I was brought into this world as a product of my own mother’s infidelity, so why was I playing with fire?