Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3) (22 page)

I was miserable. Food tasted terrible. Sleep was even more elusive. Clock hands crawled. I caught Scotty’s virus and sneezed, coughed, and sniffled my way through, feeling like I deserved it. My mother brought me soup and helped out with Scotty while I lay on the couch watching horrible television and contemplating my wretched existence.

Even when I was physically healthy again I felt sick. Achey, listless, unmotivated to do anything for myself. I kept the daily routine going for Scotty’s sake but couldn’t bring myself to do anything extra. I didn’t go to the gym, didn’t call Jillian, didn’t even wear my new t-shirts. I wore the ugly, gray, stained ones and said ridiculous, self-pitying things to myself like,
now your underwear matches your soul.

Even Scotty knew something was off, and this is a kid who struggles with affective cues. Two weeks after I’d last spoken to Jillian, Scotty and I were lying on the floor with pillows watching Up, one of his favorite movies, when he leaned over and rubbed my ear. Moved by the gesture, I took his hand in mine and kissed it.

“You have to smile,” he said. “Why didn’t you smile?”

My throat got tight. “I’m sad, Scotty.”

“Because Ellie died?”

“No, because I lost a friend. She…she’s
my
Ellie. She didn’t die, but I feel like I lost her.”

“But adventure is out there! The wilderness must be explored!”

That made me smile, if a little sadly, because I knew he wasn’t simply repeating the line for fun. Scotty recognized that, like Carl in the movie, I was missing someone, and parroting Russell’s lines was his way of communicating that he understood and wanted me to feel better. It might also have been his way of telling me to go look for her.

“Thanks, Scotty. I do want to explore the wilderness. But it can be scary.”

“What can be scary?”

I took a deep breath. “Love. To love someone like Carl and Ellie loved each other. You have to be brave.”

“We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly,” he quoted.

I smiled, a real one this time. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll try to remember that.”

That night I went to bed with those words still on my mind. It was almost like Scotty was telling me it wasn’t about bravery…it was about acceptance.

Fucking genius, my kid.

• • •

The following Tuesday morning, my mother called to tell me she was coming down and wanted to see Scotty, if he was free after school. I told her she could take him to play therapy and get his dinner if she’d like, and she jumped at the chance.

“Thanks,” I said. “That will give me some time to go to the gym and maybe catch up with a friend.” I was getting much better about letting her help out and not feeling it was an indictment on my parenting.

“How nice. Jillian?” she asked nosily.

“No. A guy friend.”

She said nothing for a moment.

“Just a friend, Mom. I’m not gay.”

“OK, OK,” she said briskly. “You know I don’t care either way, I’m only interested in your life. I want you to be happy.”

I closed my eyes. “Yes, Mom. I know.”

When we hung up, I texted Sebastian.
Can you grab a beer after work?

Sure. Time and place?

Jolly Pumpkin at 7 work for you?

See you there.

• • •

I’d asked Sebastian to meet me because I needed advice, and he was the closest guy friend I had these days. Plus he was married to Jillian’s sister and might have some insight as to what I could do to make things right.

He was there when I arrived, sitting with Natalie Nixon’s fiancé Miles at the bar, and I shook both their hands before sitting next to Sebastian.

“Hope you don’t mind my joining you,” Miles said. “I had to get out of the house. Working from home can be a little stifling.”

“I hear you. I did it for a while too.” I ordered a beer and took off my coat.

“So what’s new?” I asked Sebastian. “I haven’t talked to you for a couple weeks. Thanks again for putting me in touch with Skylar about the photo. It was perfect.”

“You’re welcome. I heard she loved it.”

“She did.”

“I’m glad. Jillian is a great girl.”

“She is, but I…” I sighed, running a hand over my beard. “I fucked up.”

Neither of them said anything while our beers were set in front of us. Once the bartender was gone, Sebastian asked, “How so?”

I gave them the bare bones of what happened, and it was amazing to me how much clarity came from telling someone else the story. As the words poured out, it was almost like being able to take a step back, see things from her point of view, or even an outsider’s, understand my fear and defensiveness better, and put them in perspective.

“Wow,” Sebastian said, taking a drink of beer. “So she said no to giving you more time? That doesn’t sound like her.”

“I think it was the way I asked. She wasn’t convinced I would use the time to work through anything. But I have—I just don’t know what to do now.” I closed my eyes and exhaled. “I need advice.”

Sebastian recoiled. “Oh Jesus. I’m the last person who should give relationship advice.”

“Why not? You and Skylar have a great relationship.”

“Yeah, but that’s because of her. I tried to sabotage it a thousand times before I realized how lucky I was that she understood me and accepted me, and that I had to stop trying to drive her away.”

“Why did you try to drive her away?” I asked.

“Fear. Plain and simple.”

“I did the same,” put in Miles. “I was such a dick to Natalie after I realized I had feelings for her. Just because that was easier than facing them and upending my life.”

I nodded, understanding. “That’s it exactly. And I’m so fucking tired of being afraid. I love her. I want her in my life. In Scotty’s life.”

“Then go get her,” said Sebastian.

“I don’t even know if she’ll have me. I might have missed my chance. She said she was done waiting.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, Skylar says that shit to me to sometimes too. It’s because they know we need to hear it in order to quit fucking around and get our shit together.”

“Agreed,” said Miles. “I actually know for a fact that Jillian’s fucking crazy about you. I shouldn’t say this, but she came over to the house last Saturday night and she was a mess.”

“Fuck.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s the day we fought. She called me out on my bullshit and I was a stubborn asshole.”

“Yeah, she admitted she was harsh. She was all kinds of fucked up about it. But she loves you. And she wants you, trust me. Not on any terms though—she was clear about that. She wants the real thing.”

“She deserves it.” I grimaced. “So what do I do now?”

“Something that will show her you know you were wrong, you’re ready to give her what she wants, and you understand what’s important to her,” said Miles. “Then you have to figure out a fucking amazing way to do it. Impress her.”

“How do you know all this?” I shook my head. “You’re like an expert.”

He grinned and tipped back his glass again. “‘Cause I had to do it too.”

I thought about it for a minute as I took a few sips of my beer. “Her job is important to her, but I think family is the closest thing to her heart.”

“I think you’re right,” said Sebastian. “The Nixons are a tight bunch. But they’re great, too. You’ll love them.”

My insides warmed as I thought about the Nixons letting me and Scotty into their clan. It would be good for both of us. Suddenly it made even more sense, her feelings about being on the inside of my life. When you come from a close family like hers, you want that for yourself. “Any ideas for a fucking amazing way to impress her?”

Sebastian went silent.

“Actually,” Miles said, his eyes lighting up, “I do have an idea. I happen to know that the entire Nixon family will be at a party at Abelard Vineyards on Christmas Eve. And
no one
knows this, but something pretty fucking cool is going to take place. I think it would mean a lot to her that you were there that night.”

“Really?” Sebastian looked at Miles.

“Really.” Miles gave him a warning look. “But you can’t say a word. Natalie would fucking kill me.”

“I won’t.”

“Christmas Eve, huh?” An idea was taking shape in my brain. “I think I could be there.”

“Good.” Miles raised his beer. “Cheers, brothers.”

Christmas Eve was five days away, but there was no way I could wait that long before contacting Jillian. One, I missed her too fucking much, and patience where she’s concerned had never been a virtue of mine; and two, I didn’t want her to suffer anymore. If she was half as miserable as I was, she was barely getting through a day.

I called her the day after I met Sebastian and Miles at the bar. It went to voicemail.

“Hey, beautiful. I miss you so much, and I hope you’re doing OK. I know I have not behaved well and don’t deserve another chance, but if you can meet me this week for coffee or a drink or dinner—anything—I’d love to see you. Let me know.”

I pressed end, feeling like I hadn’t said the right things to convince her, but what could I do? I wasn’t a poet, I had no singing voice, no magic words—I was just an imperfect guy hoping the perfect girl would love him.

She called me back after work that night.

“Hi,” she said when I answered. “I got your message.”

“Hey.” The sound of her voice made my heart beat faster. “I’m so glad you called.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you.” I set a plate of (cold) chicken, frozen peas, a warm—not hot—dinner roll, and a slice of cantaloupe on the island for Scotty. “Come and eat,” I called to him where he was playing on the family room rug.

“Oh, are you having dinner?” she said. “Just call me later.”

“No! I mean, yes, of course I will, if you want, but have you thought about my invitation?”

“I’m…still thinking.”

My spirits flagged a little. “I understand. Anything I can say to persuade you to say yes? I’ll say it.”

“I don’t know. I miss you, and I want to see you, but…what’s different this time, Levi?”

“Everything,” I promised. It suddenly occurred to me that my invitation on her voicemail hadn’t made that clear. I’d just invited her out like I used to. “In fact, I want to amend my earlier offer. Instead of coffee or a drink, why don’t you come over for dinner Friday night?”

“To your
house
?”

“Yes. I want to introduce you to Scotty.”

She sighed. “Levi, you know I’d love that, but I’m not doing it if this is just what you think I want to hear.”

“It’s not,” I said. “In fact, it’s not for you at all, it’s for me. You know how selfish I am.” I heard her laugh, and it made me smile.

“OK, then…OK. I’ll come over Friday.”

“Great. I’ve been talking about you a little.”

“You
have
?”

I smiled even bigger at the shock in her voice. “Yeah. He looked a little worried when I said you were a doctor—he doesn’t love checkups—so don’t wear the white coat.”

She laughed. “I’ll be sure to leave that behind. Can I bring anything?”

“Nope. Just your company.”

“What time?”

“Is six OK?”

“Yes, I’ll come right from work.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Same. I miss you. And I can’t wait to meet Scotty.”

We hung up, and I felt better than I had in a month. I could do this. I looked over at Scotty, who was carefully scooping his frozen peas onto his yellow spoon, a few spilling off the plate, and felt a rush of love for him, too. Neither of us was perfect, but we tried.

Sometimes that’s all you can do.

• • •

I called my mother that night too. As I’d suspected, it didn’t go over well that I wouldn’t be at their house on Christmas Eve until I hinted at something bigger than just the holiday.

“I understand that you have to make things up to her, but why does it have to be on Christmas Eve? That’s for family.”

“That’s the point, Mom.”

“But those people aren’t your family.”

“But I’m hoping they will be.”

She gasped. “What? What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m serious about her, and I have to show her that I want her to be in my life, and I want to be in hers.”

“Well, what about Scotty? Why don’t you bring him here to spend the night with us while you go to her party, and then you can come up here afterward to sleep and you both wake up here on Christmas morning. Just like it used to be!” she said brightly, as if she’d found the perfect solution.

“No, Mom. I don’t want what used to be. I want to make new traditions. I want to be with Scotty and Jillian on Christmas Eve, and wake up with Scotty in our house.”

She sighed, a big, dramatic Mom Sigh. “Fine,” she said. “I understand. You’ll still come for brunch Christmas Day though, right?”

“We’ll be there. Would it be OK to bring Jillian?”

“Of course!” She perked right up. “We’d love to have her!”

“Good. We’ll see you then.”

• • •

In the days leading up to Friday, I spoke about Jillian to Scotty. He listened, I think, but whenever he’d ask about her, he’d refer to her as Ellie, no matter how many times I reminded him her name was Jillian. It was sort of sweet, and very Scotty, so after a while I gave up correcting him and figured it would work itself out on its own—or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he’d call her Ellie for the rest of her life. Somehow, I knew she’d be OK with that, because it meant Scotty recognized that we loved each other.

As long as he didn’t start calling me Carl.