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"Can you just stop the fucking pity party for once?" Jane said as she swiped my glass away from me. "You're not listening to what I'm saying!"
"What am I not hearing?" I choked out. "You're saying we're done!"
"I'm saying you're done if you just sit on your ass and don't do anything, Sky!"
I gulped. "What are you talking about?"
Jane rolled her eyes, then cracked her knuckles. "Skylar, think about all the ways Brandon has tried to win you over. The big crazy gifts. Showing up unexpectedly. The flowers, the letters."
"They were...insane," I said. "Those kinds of things don't tell people how much they love you."
"Not for you," Jane countered. "They just weren't the right way to talk to you. But this isn't about you anymore. It's about him. And right now, he's the one who's hurt, Sky. You want to win him back, maybe it's time for you to start speaking his language, buttercup."
I sat back into the couch, feeling like I'd just been hit over the head.
"His language," I repeated to myself.
"That's right," Jane said. "Time to stop moping and start plotting. Because, my friend, coming back from this fuckup is going to take something big."
~
We tossed ideas back and forth for the rest of the morning, trying to determine something that would mean as much to Brandon as he wanted his gifts to mean to me. It couldn't be something generic, obviously. His first attempts at wooing me had been entrenched in sleaze––a trip to Paris I'd turned down immediately, a diamond necklace from Tiffany's that I doubt he'd even picked out himself.
But he'd learned soon enough to give from his heart, and it had made all the difference. The bracelet around my wrist was just one example: a simple, hand-pounded cuff with words from a Yeats poem engraved on the inside: One man loved the pilgrim soul in you.
"What does he want more than anything in the world?" Jane kept asking as she paced the living room in front of me. I would have been pacing with her, but I still couldn't walk for too long on my foot.
We kept circling back to one thing. Family, and the symbols that went along with it. Between his parents and the strange relationship with his foster parents, Brandon had never had a real one, but had wanted one his entire life. It was why, we decided, he was fine with having my nosy grandmother living just a few floors down from him. It was why he had no problem putting my dad through rehab, why he had stuck it out in such a horrendous marriage for as long as he did. And it was why what I had done hurt him so very badly.
Family.
So we came up with a list of things I could do that would be out of the ordinary that would give something of that to him. I would begin with the smallest, easiest of them first. And before Jane left, we had a plan in place for Operation Grovel. She was right: I couldn't save my relationship, couldn't win back the love of my life if I didn't put myself out there. And I was done being passive.
Now was time for action. And surprises. Unlike me, Brandon loved surprises.
Unfortunately, waiting for him to come home wouldn't work, since I had no idea what kind of hours he was keeping. So under Jane's supervision, I pulled out my phone and typed out a quick message.
Me: Do u think u will b around for dinner tonight?"
The interminable ellipses hovered at the bottom of the screen for what seemed like forever, but finally, I got a response. Good. At least I know he's listening.
Brandon: I don't know. Why?
I paused, then tapped out my response.
Me: I'm making something. Was hoping you'd be here to test it out.
This time the reply was instantaneous.
Brandon: YOU'RE cooking?
I rolled my eyes. Okay, so I wasn't the most domestic person in the world, but that didn't mean I couldn't perform basic tasks in the kitchen. Still, this was part of the point. I'd never done anything remotely domestic for Brandon––never cooked or cleaned, since he had a housekeeper, and whenever we stayed at my place, we always just ate out. It wasn't my strength, and he knew it. Which, hopefully, would make it mean more.
Me: they used to call me julia child back in brooklyn.
Brandon: I'll believe it when I see it.
I grinned. He was joking with me. That was a good sign.
