Purely Relative (11 page)

On Saturday, Jon took me to Six
Flags Over Texas. It was a little chilly but we’d bundled up nicely and it gave
me a bulletproof excuse to tuck inside his coat fronts whenever we waited in
line. At the end of the evening back at his place, he brought the ring out and
proposed again. I said “no” and we carried on with our evening, though he still
refused to let me try it on.

On Sunday, we went to a very sexy movie that had us tearing
each other’s clothes off as soon as he threw the lock on his apartment door. He
proposed again, and again I said “no,” but at least he let me stare at that
ring a little longer. Still no go on trying it on, however.

No Jon Monday through Friday because he had a stakeout to
man. He managed to call and propose every night nevertheless. I told him if I
hadn’t said “yes” with the ring and him on bended knee right in front of me, I
sure as hell wasn’t going to accept him over the phone.

He brought me roses on Saturday and took me horseback
riding. Proposing in the saddle didn’t work either, though I gave him props for
controlling his horse while trying to slip a bridle on me.

Sunday morning he made me breakfast and on the serving tray
he included a wrapped package. Inside the package was a beautiful card that
said simply, “Marry me?” and the ring tucked securely in its black Kruger’s
ring box. He let me study the ring but drew the line at allowing me to try it
on, reiterating that only a “yes” answer would unlock the door to that
privilege. I supposed I couldn’t blame him. 

We repeated a similar pattern for the two weeks that
followed, and by then had begun to laugh about the predictability of our dates.

I searched for a job in DC, but not knowing the market and
being a long distance applicant didn’t do me any favors in my hunt. I helped
Jon pack up and ship his stuff East. The last two days he lived with me since he
had no bed or furniture.

I had found a job temping for a computer store. They needed
someone to balance their bank accounts that were hopelessly muddled. The work
was easy, and I actually liked the people there. I worked full time while the
assignment lasted. At the rate I was cleaning everything up, though, I wouldn’t
have many more hours to work there.

Jon continued to urge me to move with him, but I hadn’t
given notice on my apartment yet and my crummy car was in dire need of
maintenance before I would even attempt to drive it across the country.

The last morning he stowed his suitcase inside Christine’s
trunk, and kissed me goodbye as I bawled my eyes out at the curb. Christine,
bless her heart, wouldn’t start. Her battery was dead, or so we thought. When
Jon checked under her hood, he found nothing amiss, and a check of the battery
indicated it held full power.

I patted her hood and whispered, “I’ll see you soon, dear
girl. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Jon turned the key again and she
started right up.

I waved as he backed out, turned, and drove away. It was the
first time he hadn’t proposed. In the parking spot Christine vacated, I found a
shiny Washington, DC, quarter. I curled my fist around it and cried in my bed
until I fell asleep, crawling out of bed only to eat lunch and dinner and go
the bathroom.

Jon called from a hotel in Tennessee where he’d holed up for
the night. He sounded tired and planned on making an early start in the
morning. I lied when he asked if I was feeling okay because I sounded like I
was getting a cold by agreeing that I might be and hoped he didn’t catch
anything from me.

The next night he called from DC, from his new apartment,
saying it was very nice but small. His building was in the same neighborhood
he’d left a little over a year earlier when he’d moved to Dallas. He’d already
run into several people he knew at the grocery store where he made a quick trip
for a few essentials.

His whole life was continuing on, while mine was stuck in
first gear in a city that had never embraced me.

The next day, my caller ID identified the person on the
other end of the line as “Cripps, J.” I’d never seen that readout for Jon
before and wondered if he’d had his apartment phone hooked up or if he was
calling from some work line assigned to him. I answered with a tentative, “Hello?”
instead of my usual, “Hi, sexy!”

“Gayle?” A female voice. Who was using his phone? A
momentary wave of dread hit me.

“Yes.”

“This is Jenny Cripps.”

I slapped my palm to the side of my head. Of course it was
Jenny! Why hadn’t I considered that? Okay, for starters, why would she be
calling me? “Jenny! Hi! How are you?” Best not to assume anything but let her
talk and explain herself.

“I was wondering if you might want to have dinner with me
one night this week. I mean, you’re dating my brother and I’m dating yours, it
seems—”

“Of course. I’d love to. I’m free any night this week.” I
wandered into my kitchen, my phone pressed to my ear, and took stock of my
dwindling food supply. I had been postponing my grocery trip until I got my
first paycheck, but as that was only three days away, I figured one night on
the credit card wouldn’t kill me. I’d just cut back on the frivolous stuff like
Diet Cokes. Or maybe not those, but sweets and snacks.

“Would you mind coming to my house for a home-cooked meal?”

“I’d love that.” Boy howdy, would I ever!

We set up our dinner for the next night, swapping cell phone
numbers and directions to her house, even though I’d been once before.

She welcomed me graciously into her home when I rang the
bell. It looked virtually unchanged from when Jon and I had holed up there a
month earlier.

I handed her the bottle of wine I’d brought as a gift, a
bottle my brother had purchased and left behind. How fortuitous that I’d never
opened it.

“Oh, I love this kind of wine. Thank you! Come on in!” She
swept her hand toward the kitchen. “I thought we’d keep it casual and hang out
in the kitchen while I finish up.”

“Sounds great,” I said, heading in the direction she
indicated.

Once installed on a bar stool, with a generously poured
glass of wine, we made generic chit chat about her job, my home state, the
weather, everything except the topics I knew we both really wanted to discuss
which were: Jon, Ian, DC and, for my own nosey purposes, the outcome of the
Jason-Kat-Tully love triangle.

“So,” she began after an awkward lull in the conversation.

“So,” I repeated, smiling at her.

A mischievous grin stole its way onto Jenny’s face. “Alright,
I’ll go first, since you’re my guest. “I’m thinking about moving to Houston.”

“What? Really? Will the airline let you relocate?”

“No. But I don’t care. I’ll find another job when I get
there. The biggest problem will be telling my parents. With Jon leaving again,
the timing is not greatest, but I want to be with him, you know?”

I nodded and took a big gulp of my wine. She could do what I
couldn’t—afford to move to be with the man she loved ... even if it was
my geeky brother. “What about your house?”

She shrugged. “I’ll sell it. It’s not the best housing
market, but at least I’m not upside-down mortgage-wise.” She looked around her
kitchen. “It’s been a good house, but I need to move on with my life. Despite
my mom and dad being here, it no longer feels like home to me. It feels like
I’ve been sitting like an obedient dog in this tiny yard surrounded by
invisible fencing. A hair beyond the property line is a lush open field made
for running. I know if I cross the fence line I’ll get zapped, but that
one-time jolt of electric agony will be nothing compared to the dull and
constant ache of always wanting what’s within my reach, if I take just one
extra step.”

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

Tossing back the last of her wine, she swallowed with a loud
gulp and said, “All those years wasted on Scott. God, I’m stupid. I’m not going
to waste any more. And even if Ian and I don’t last, at least I tried.”

“What if the dog catcher grabs you before you can get to
that field?”

“Then I’ll devise a plan B.” She shifted her shoulders back
and sat more erect. “What about you and Jon? He’s in DC now. When are you going
to join him?”

“I have to find a job first. I can’t afford to move right
now.”

“I’m sure Jon would let you crash with him until you could
get on your feet.” She refilled her wine glass and topped off mine.

“He already offered but I turned him down. If I depended on
him, I’d lose the hungry edge I need to get a job. I’m afraid I could easily
become addicted to leaning on him.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

I shook my head and gave her a resigned smile. “You sound like
Jon.”

She reached out and gave my hand a pat. “He’s crazy about
you, you know that, don’t you? You can’t doubt that.”

“I know. I don’t.”

“I have a confession,” she began, cocking her head oh so
slightly. “He asked me to ask you to dinner to plead his case for him.” A soft
laugh escaped my lips at that. She continued. “Not that I wouldn’t have asked
you for my own selfish reasons anyway.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” I took another large swallow. A fuzzy
haze started to coat the inside of my head. I’d probably hit my alcohol limit.
Any more and I wouldn’t be able to drive. I pushed the glass to the side.

Jenny nodded in its direction. “Jon said you were a bit of a
lightweight and that I was not to let you drink at all. Oops.” She glanced from
the glass to me, and then back to the glass. “Don’t worry about driving. You’re
more than welcome to crash here.” She winked at me and added, “I have a very
cozy guest bedroom.”

I burst out laughing and dropped my head. We’d finally
breeched
that
topic. “Oh my God, Jenny, I am so embarrassed about that
... still.”

She flipped a hand. “Eh, no worries. Not that I ever wanted
to see my little brother having sex nor do I ever want to witness it again, but
honestly, I didn’t think he was much the type for that sort of thing. He’s
always been so— I dunno—proper and virginal. That’s why I knew you
were different, you know.”

I couldn’t help but snort at her impression of her brother,
correct in some respects but far from the mark in others. I supposed brothers
and sisters didn’t always know each other so well once they became adults. Ian
had certainly surprised me. “Thanks. I think.” My cheeks warmed. Time to change
the subject. “Okay, so new topic. What happened with Jason? I’m dying to know.”

Jenny leaned toward me, eyes wide. “Oh! Now there’s a soap
opera. I’m glad Tully finally spoke up and told Jason she was sick of playing
in the friends zone. Apparently, the fully pieced together story was: Jason ran
out after Tully but was too late. Kat caught up to him and they left to go
talk. They ended up having a huge fight and broke up. She brought him back to
my parents’ house after you and Jon had left. Without even asking, Jason took
Dad’s car and rushed off and didn’t return until the wee hours of the night.
According to Mom, Tully picked him up the next morning with this big
shit-eating grin on her face, and they went back to Austin early.”

“A-ha! I knew it!”

“Everybody knew it, except Jason. Such an idiot. I guess he
knows now.” Jenny snickered but set down her glass. In a more somber tone she
added, “Sometimes, you have to turn off your brain and do what your heart tells
you, consequences be damned.”

I thought the truth of her words probably depended a great
deal upon how odious those repercussions might be.

We talked about all the other events at Chez Cripps during
Thanksgiving, including her own drama, late into the night. By then I was fully
sober. I said my goodbyes and went home to canoodle with consequences I wasn’t
ready to challenge.

The morning Jon was due to fly home
for Christmas, I woke at six and cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. I
baked cookies and decorated and at two o’clock made my third pass through DFW’s
congested pick-up zone watching for Jon who had landed at one-thirty.

On my fourth pass, there he was. My heart tap-danced in my
chest watching his face light up when he recognized me. That smile alone might
have made me swoon with happiness but for the Homeland Security guard wagging
his finger and tapping his watch at me as I idled at the curb.

Geesh, take a load off, buddy, and Merry Christmas to
you, too!

I jumped out of the car to help Jon load his briefcase and
carry-on in the trunk. That was all he brought because, of course, he wasn’t
staying, would be leaving in just three short days. He took me in his arms and
bent me back, shooting an “I dare you to say anything” grin to the surly guard
before he gave me a kiss that barely skirted the boundaries of decent public
behavior.

Jon saluted the guard after he stood me back up, then kissed
the tip of my nose. “Can I drive?”

Since I already had my hand on the passenger door when he
asked, I didn’t bother to answer; I slipped in and buckled. He leaned over to
give me another kiss.

“We better scoot before the curbside commando gives me a
ticket,” I said grinning.

“Your place?” he asked with a sidelong glance.

“Yes, please!”

“I shall do my very best,” he said with a wink.

“How’s DC?”

“Cold. Lonely. Depressing.” Another quick glance.

I fidgeted with my hands in my lap. “Here, too.” Yet I also
knew I was half the cause of our misery.

Most of the drive was quick and lively but with a mournful
undertone. Jon told me about DC—his new apartment, his neighbors, the
sights and sounds. I told him about my temp work, my DC applications, and an
Anderson-Blakely co-worker I’d had lunch with one day.

We were nearly at my apartment when I said, “I also went to
a couple of interviews.” I caught my breath after I said it and in hindsight
should have kept that to myself. In my defense, I’d sent those companies my
resume before Jon told me about relocating.