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“Of course,” I said with an embarrassingly large smile on my face.
“When I’m back on this side of the world, I want to see you again.” He looked into my eyes with intensity. He was so serious about making sure that I knew he was interested. Perhaps even more than interested. This thought didn’t bother me, though, because therewassomething special here. Something I had never felt before. Something I had never experienced before.
“I’ll be here.”
He moved closer to me, and I thought he might kiss me. I wouldn’t push him away if he tried, but I could see an internal debate going on inside his head. It was just the first date, anyway.
We gazed into each other’s eyes for a few silent moments. I couldn’t tell what he was going to do, but I was ready for whatever would come next. Finally, his hands cupped my jaw, and then he pulled me into a kiss. My hands touched his wrists as he kissed me, and I thought my knees might give out. A warmth spread from my head to my toes, leaving me breathless. It had been a while since I had kissed anyone, but I was pretty sure it had never felt like that before. His kiss was electrifying, and my veins surged with fire. I felt something ignite deep inside of me in my soul, and somehow, I knew this was it. He was the one I had spent my entire life waiting for.
J.R. pulled away gently. His hand stroked my hair. He looked at me a little deeper, and then he whispered, “I don’t think I want to go.”
I replied softly, “Then don’t.”
“I should,” he replied after a few seconds. “This has the potential to go too fast. I don’t want to go too fast.”
I agreed. Whatever this attraction was between the two of us, it could quickly get out of hand—like a wildfire that couldn’t be controlled.
“Okay.” I stepped back. “Thank you for the flowers. And for tonight. It was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m calling you tomorrow.” He gave me a lopsided grin.
“I’m already sitting by the phone.”
J.R. smiled again, and then he kissed me one more time, leaving me with an ache in my chest that I couldn’t explain. I watched as he walked away, still smiling every time he glanced back at me, and then he disappeared out of sight. I slid back into my apartment with a sigh and a smile. I thought it was funny how one night out completely altered the course of my world. Of course, it was only funny because I never went out.
6
Present
It’s a long drive—four hours to be exact—from the Upstate of South Carolina to my old stomping grounds, Tybee Island, Georgia. The drive gives me a lot of time to think about what I’m going to say to J.R. when I see him for the first time in such a long time. Everything I try doesn’t sound good, though. What do you say to someone you ran out on? Whatever I figure out, I’m sure he won’t care to hear it.
What if he has a girlfriend? Worse, what if he’s married? What if I knock on the door ofourhome, and some strange woman answers? I guess I can’t be upset. I can’t expect him to have remained a single man while I was gone. He’s too good to be single, anyway. J.R is, in every way, the perfect man. I was an idiot.
I blame my mother for the things I thought were true. Of course, I can’t blame her for everything, can I? I must take some responsibility for my thoughts and actions. Still, back then, my mother had complete control of my mind. I believed every single word she ever said to me, to an extent. Perhaps there was a part of me that understood she was only trying to motivate me to be a successful adult. Regardless, she taught me that eventually, a man will leave, whether it be through death or free will. She wasn’t completely unjustified in that belief. When my dad died, everything fell apart.
I’ve come a long way since I fled our home on that cold, January morning. I still remember how I felt then. Lonely. Broken. Cold. Angry. I didn’t want to leave, but I somehow convinced myself that it’s what had to be done. I would be better off. J.R. would be better off. The world would be better off.
It didn’t take me long to realize that I had made a mistake. Months afterward, I wasn’t any closer to moving on with my life than the day I had left. I knew that I could go home, and J.R. would take me back. Still, I told myself that he wouldn’t want me, and he certainly wouldn’t want this baby. How could he even be certain she was his? And what if he did want Knox? I didn’t want him to take me back just for her either. I had put myself in an impossible situation.
Too much time passed, and I knew I was in too deep to turn around and go back. Knox was born, and my life had changed. I certainly couldn’t show up on his doorstep with a newborn in my arms.
I wish that I had gone back home the moment I realized I had made a mistake. I know that J.R. would have taken our baby in his arms and loved her as much as I do. He would have even taken me back because no man has ever loved me the way J.R. loved me. He would have forgiven me because that’s who J.R. is. I can’t expect the same from him now. It’s been half a decade.
7
September 2001
I watched the television screen with horror in my eyes. Hijacked airplanes, two of them, had flown right into the World Trade Center’s North and South Towers. Smoke poured from the buildings while bystanders stood and watched in shock from the sidewalks below. The news reporters were live at the scene, but even they were at a loss for words. The audio from the television was loud with sirens from the responding paramedics and police officers.
There were other reports of more hijacked airplanes, but nothing could be confirmed. All scheduled flights had been canceled, and all planes in the air had been ordered to land. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what was actually happening. No one could. The news ran videos of hundreds of people standing in Times Square, all watching the big screen there as the Trade Centers burned. The scene was eerily quiet.
A camera zoomed in on the two towers. I could clearly see people hanging out of their office windows a thousand feet from the ground, as smoke poured out from behind them. Some of the people waved curtain panels to get the attention of rescue workers below. The effort seemed hopeless. We all knew that rescuers would never be able to reach them in time. In time for what? Before the fire and smoke took over.
Specks of white floated gracefully to the ground. At first, I thought the specks of white were paper flying from the opened office windows; but at a closer look, I realized that it wasn’t paper at all, but instead people jumping to their deaths. My heart was numb. My hands shook. I had never seen anything quite like this before.
I tried J.R.’s cell phone again. It went to voicemail. He was on a plane—or he should have been. He had been in New York the night before to play a show, and he was supposed to fly home this day. I didn’t know where he was, and I had to force myself not to think too much about it.
Firefighters and police officers were rescuing and evacuating who they could from the Twin Towers. Elevators didn’t work. Everyone on the floors above and just below the area where the planes made impact were likely dead. I couldn’t imagine that anyone would have survived that. I feared how many thousands of others were dead also. My stomach turned.
