Across the Pond

Sydney

I. Drift.

"Did you call him yet?"

"No."

"Oh my God, Sydney, call him!"

"No!" Tess huffed impatiently on the other end of the line and not one part of me cared. "He broke up with me, I think. If anyone is crawling back to someone it's he to me. Or something. You know what I mean."

"I actually don't, because you've turned into a crazy person." My bestie wasn't wrong. I was on day nine of the Maxwell Charles Holland III Detox Program and not a damn thing had changed. Still missed him. Still craved him. I couldn't stop thinking of how easily he reads my thoughts, or the impressions left by his touch. My insomnia was back in full force and what little sleep I did get was bombarded with dreams of him. I woke up crying more often than not, which really pissed me off because I wasn't that person, some lovesick chick who couldn't function without her man around. I'd always been more of a ''love 'em and leave 'em'' kind of girl which probably wasn't the healthiest but it sure as hell worked for me.

So I was completely thrown off track, because after my fucked-up confession Holland picked me up off the floor and carried me to his shower, stripping us both and washing me down in a vain attempt to scrub the memories away while I sobbed uncontrollably. Because when he finished he dressed me in his Ramones shirt and laid me down in his bed to rest. Because he kept me safely in his arms until I cried myself to sleep.

Because he stayed, the whole night, with me.

When I stood in front of his door and he asked me to stay, I panicked. I felt like I had ripped off the enormous scab where my heart used to be and I was bleeding all over the place. I had been exposed in a way that was so massive and foreign, not to mention embarrassing. Deep in the pit of my stomach was always the feeling I wasn't good enough for him and that was all the push I needed. When I was on the plane ride home and all cried out I thought,

okay, it's not a big deal. Relationships end. I can do the alone thing. I've done it for years.

When I got home and found he'd snuck his Ramones tee into my carry-on I knew it wouldn't be as simple as

get over it

. A guy cared for me so much he'd given me his favorite shirt with no guarantee he'd ever get it back.

If that's not love I don't know what is. Which made being separated from him that much harder.

It was almost easy when I first got back to Connecticut. Secluded in a far-away cubicle at my parent's firm, distracting myself with researching legal articles and organizing briefs and motions. The only contact with the living was when I transferred calls to other parties in the building and then I only had to sound like I had it together for twenty seconds at a time. Dad was thrilled to have me there as if it would spark some dormant desire to go back to law school. Mom saw through my act, even if she wouldn't say it outright:

"Are you sure you don't want to have dinner with us tonight? I'll make your favorite," she offered, her voice weighted with maternal concern.

"No thanks. I'm not hungry." I can't eat.

"Then how about a spa day tomorrow? My treat. You just look so sad, Sydney."

"Maybe another time." When I don't feel like I'm decaying on the inside.

It was different when I went back to Antonio's. I had to smile and flirt and be outgoing, because that was my bread and butter. I had to be social. I had to engage. I felt like an imposter. It was all a lie, but I went through the motions my first night back. I poured the beer and gave back change, counted pours and gave a polite

thank you

when I shoved cash into my tip jar. I called for more olives, and

I'm sorry, we're out of chardonnay, can I recommend a Riesling instead?

I pocketed the numbers given to me from nameless guys to throw away at the end of the night. I wiped down the bar and washed glasses, swept the floor while Tony asked for the fiftieth time if I was okay.

"I heard you crying in the locker room. You know you can talk to me if you need anything, right?"

I couldn't. I tried to reassure him I was fine but his questioning eyes told me he knew I was lying. So he counted my drawer and I thanked him, got into my car and came straight home. Cried. Tried to self-medicate with vodka and Ani DiFranco. Cried more. The cycle repeated for a few days until I could bring myself to tell Tess what happened, then that turned into occupying all her spare time by calling and obsessing about it. I think she was officially over it. "Syd, I love you, you know that; but I can't spend another lunch break debating the whole "break up vs. taking a break" Ross and Rachel thing, I can't do it."

This bitch!

"Hey! I listened to you whine constantly when you and Shane split up - "

"And you were more than honest when you reached your limit. Now this is me being honest, because I've

reached my limit

. If you want to get over him, you have to try and put it past you. I will cry and mope and binge on ice cream right along with you. If you don't want to get over him then you need to put on your big girl pants and CALL HIM," she yelled sharply before hanging up. I scoffed indignantly. The nerve of some people.

...fine. She was right.

Okay. I can do this. It's just a phone call.

I repeated the sentence over and over in my head until I pulled up Holland's number. His picture - a rare moment when I snapped him grinning ear to ear after calling him my beautiful blond boy - made my melancholy intensify. The phone picked up on the second ring. "Good evening, you've reached Maxwell Holland's mobile. This is Tobias, how may I help you?"

I was so shocked at the unfamiliar voice I started stumbling over my words like I'd never had a casual conversation before. "Hi Toby, um, Tobias. This is Sydney. James. My name is Sydney James and I'm a friend of Holland's? I guess?"

"Yes Miss James, I am aware of who you are to Mr. Holland - and you are more than welcome to refer to me as Toby," he responded with a reassured tone. "If you'll please hold for a moment I will pull Mr. Holland from his conference."

"Oh, no. That's okay, I can leave a message."

"I have explicit instructions to patch you through to him immediately."

I was touched. Then almost immediately scared shitless. "Can't you just tell him I called? I really don't want to bug him."

Toby paused. "I'm sorry, you did call to speak with Mr. Holland, correct?"

"Yeah, but - "

"Therefore, I have instructions to put you through. If you would please queue for a moment - "

"Gah!" I shrieked and hung up, tossing the phone on the bed before huddling up into my chair. Thirty seconds later it started blasting Luke James and I pulled my Nana's crochet blanket over my head like he could really see me. When the tone stopped and started ringing again I sighed. One trait Holland and I shared was stubbornness and I knew he wouldn't stop calling until I answered. I dropped the blanket on the floor and tiptoed over to where my phone landed, taking another three seconds to get myself together before picking up. "Hey, Boss."

"Sydney." His voice pierced through me like a bullet to the gut and I had to sit before my legs gave out. Smooth as honey and sounding like home. "Why did you yell at Toby? The poor boy is practically shaking, you gave him quite a fright."

"Sorry. Or, tell him I said sorry. He said you were in the middle of something and I didn't want him to interrupt you."

"He has a direct order to connect you to me no matter what I may be engaged in."

"I

know

that, I just - "I stopped midsentence. I didn't want to go down that rabbit hole again. "All I wanted to do was leave you a message."

"You have me now, so tell me your message."

There were a thousand things I wanted to say but suddenly none of them sounded right, so the only thing that came out was a succinct and definitive "I love you."

Silence. For way too long before he replied in a hushed voice, "I have loved you for so long, Sydney, I've loved you before I even knew you existed. This entire situation was an absolute horrible idea, I never should have let you leave and I am no longer allowed to make serious decisions about our relationship."

He sounded so pissed off at himself I had to keep myself from laughing. "So we are still in a relationship? I can put away the tissues and hyper-emotional music?"

"Of course we are, why would you think otherwise?" I didn't know how to answer him. "You...did you think this was over?"

"You never called so I figured when you said 'space' you meant permanently. I unloaded all of that fantastic information on you so dramatically, it's not like I could blame you."

"I would

never

...I thought it would be best if I gave you a bit of breathing room before we could move on together. I never meant to make you feel as if I deserted you in your time of need, I know how uncomfortable you become when you feel vulnerable and I didn't want to be overbearing. I never wanted you to leave, I thought I was doing the right thing." We both fell quiet. "I fear I am consistently breaking my promises to you."

It took me a second to realize what he was talking about.

"Your heart is safe with me, little one. I swear I won't damage it further."

"You didn't, not really. Not damaged, just a little bruised and that's not all on you either, I fucking suck at communicating. Think it's too early for couple's counseling?"

"A conversation for another time, perhaps. I need to return to my board meeting, I will give you a ring later if you're available."

My yes was interrupted by a text notification. I pulled the phone from my ear and opened the message from my dad, all it said was

At Nana's. Need ride. Bring snacks.

I rolled my eyes and got back to Max. "Actually, I'll call you. Dad and Nana have been hitting the bong again and I have to go haul his stoned ass home."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the marijuana plant, does it?" he poked fun and the knot that had set up in my chest the moment I left London eased away. "I look forward to your call. I love you dearly, my sweet girl; and on the record, it was never over. It will never be over for me."

Damned if my Grinch heart didn't grow three sizes that day. "For me either. Love you too, Boss." I hung up and finally felt like I could breathe. Sure, we were both a little fucked in the head but at least things were salvageable. My phone dinged and my hopes it was a gushy message from Holland were dashed by a single word.

Funions!

I hate my dad.

***

II. Same ol' Mistakes

.

I'm lying! I love my dad, he's the best. Self-made multimillionaire, a humble philanthropist who founded three high-profile charities from the ground up, has won numerous humanitarian awards and still found time to raise one daughter at the age of sixteen and adopt two more at twenty and twenty-three, respectively. Edward James is a total bad-ass who deserves to get lit with his mother-in-law occasionally.

Which is why I hauled myself to the nearest convenience store for two big bags of Funions and a Vanilla Coke because they're his favorite, then made the trek across town to Nana's retirement community. It's nothing more than an upper-middle class neighborhood they stick old white people in to get them out of the way, but with bridge nights and gardening clubs. It wasn't a bad place to spend your golden years, especially if you're like Nana and have access to pot for "medicinal reasons" because of your "glaucoma".

When I got there I knocked on the door a couple times and let myself in. Nana was snoring away in her recliner while Dad was sprawled out on the plastic-covered paisley couch watching something old and boring on tv, only noticing me when I threw one of the bags at his chest. His lips turned up at me lazily. "Hi Flower. You're my favorite kid, you know that?"

"Duh, fool. I brings alls the snacks." I loved when he used my childhood nickname - because my middle name is Rose - but he was the only one to get away with it. I may be a hardass, but I am a total daddy's girl. He sat up clumsily and leaned over, rubbing at his eyes with a distraught look on his face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Mom's pregnant," he mumbled.

Waaaaait a minute.

My parents were only in their mid-forties so it's not like it was impossible; and I know they're still banging, it's why I call first and announce myself loudly whenever I go home to visit. But still..." You're fuckin'

lying

."

He sat back with a pained look on his face, but not so pained it kept him from opening the snack bag. He looked like he aged ten years since I saw him a few days before. "See, that's what I said when she told me, and all I got in response was

get the fuck out of this house, you insensitive asshole.

"

"Well that was a dumb thing for you to say so I can't blame her," I scolded when I plopped down next to him. I'm not gonna lie, I was kind of excited for another sibling to teach and torment; but homeboy looked completely freaked out, shoveling salty rings into his mouth so fast I thought he was going to choke. "You okay there, buddy?"

Dad swallowed thickly before getting a little hysterical. "The doctors told us after Rachael we couldn't have any more kids and we haven't had so much as a scare in over twenty years. Then boom, she's suddenly knocked up? We just got Carson out of the house. She

just

left

for Julliard! I was looking forward to spending time just the two of us and now...I'm too old for midnight feedings and dirty diapers. I don't know how I'm gonna do this."

Poor guy. I'd be anxious as fuck too. I took his greasy hand in mine and patted it gently. "If you could do it at sixteen you can do it at forty-five. There are night nannies and day nannies and housekeepers and all kinds of help you can afford now that you couldn't then, but if you don't go home and apologize you're gonna do all that

plus

pay alimony and child support, because Mom is a better attorney than you and she will take you to the cleaners. She's probably scared too so stop being a buttnugget and go tend to your baby mama."

He exhaled sadly, focusing on the tv. I took a good look at his profile and realized how Holland kind of resembled him. Straight nose, strong jaw. They both had blond hair and blue eyes, though Dad's were sky blue compared to Max's sapphire ones. They were both dominating presences with undying love for their family. I guess it's true, you really do fall for the ones most like your father. "Anyway. What's going on with you, kiddo? You look a little happier today."

"Oh, well. I'm seeing someone." He turned his head enough to show the surprise in his eyes. I shied away when my face started to heat up. "Actually, I'm head over heels in love. Great timing, huh?"

"I'll say. That's wonderful. He's a good man?"

"The best. He's kind and generous, stubborn and hard-headed in a good way. Very family oriented, he's so damn smart and he has a great laugh. Puts up with all my shit and sometimes even finds it endearing. The only thing is he lives in London and the distance is kind of hard to deal with, but he seems to be all in so we'll make it work somehow."

In a split second the joyous look slid off his face and I got a little concerned. "Mom and I worried after Jeremy you'd never...we saw the signs but you're an adult, you make your own decisions. But I

saw

, and I should have...I'll never forgive myself for what happened. I failed you, Flower."

I widened my eyes to keep from crying.

Not here. Not here.

"Daddy, that is

not

your fault."

"But I'm your father, I should have protected you - "

"I should have broken up with him sooner, I should have never gone out with him, I shouldn't trust this new guy either...it's all

shoulds

and none of it does any good. It's not anyone's fault but Jeremy's and we can't change what happened, but I'm okay now so don't beat yourself up anymore. Save that pleasure for Mom, okay?"

He finally laughed even as a tear slid down his face and I stood with my hand out to help him up. We left Nana to her nap and headed for home, not bothering with chit chat on the drive, instead belting out old rock songs on the radio while he got chip crumbs all over my seats. I didn't mind.

When we pulled around the driveway Mom was sitting on the steps, waiting for him with a famously pissed off look on her face. We sat there idling, staring at her. "Oh man, you're about to get your ass handed to you," I whispered, like she could hear me.

"Yeah, I deserve it. Thanks for the ride." He leaned over the console and wrapped his arms around me with a secure squeeze. I squeezed back. I forgot how much I loved his hugs. "If you're in love with this guy, don't wait, okay? I don't like the idea of you living so far away but you have to do what makes you happy."

"Okay." I kissed him on his stubbled cheek. "Maybe it'll be a boy this time. That'd be cool, right?"

He thought about it and genuinely seemed happy for the first time that afternoon. "Sure, but why would I wish for one? I'm the father of three of the most intelligent, beautiful women in the world. One more would be a blessing."

"That! That was what you should have said!" He agreed profusely and got out, closing the door the moment Mom started screaming at him. I watched as she pointed and yelled, shoving him in the shoulder a few times for good measure while he stood there and took it. It went on for a while until Dad stepped up to her and put his hand on her stomach. Mom looked at him like he was nuts but whatever he was saying to her must have been the right thing because she started crying, covering her face while he pulled her into his arms and held her. It was then I felt okay to leave.

I started to head for home, but I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to go to the gym, or Tess and Shane's. I drove absentmindedly for a while, and it took me halfway down the interstate to realize where I was headed.

"Miss? Is there anything I can get you?" A friendly brunette grabbed me out of my thoughts and I shook my head politely. She asked because the sun set hours ago and I was the only one in the cabin still awake, though I was quiet as to not disturb the other passengers. She passed on her way back to her little area and my focus turned out to the night sky again. It was a new day. Everything had been reset.

And I was going to get the man I'm in love with.

***

III. Hour Follows Hour.

Okay, so maybe I didn't plan out everything before I impulsively spend 80% of my money on a plane ticket to London.

How it played out in my head was I'd go to Holland's house and wait for him to come home from work, laid out like an entire snack in the middle of his bed with nothing but the body God and boxing gave me, ravishing him the second he walked in the door. I had the seductive phrases, the preplanned dirty positions in my head. It wasn't until I hailed a cab outside the airport that I remembered the one thing I didn't have.

The goddamn key to his house.

I thought about showing up at his office again, but I was pretty sure Becky the Nosy Secretary would call the cops as soon as I stepped onto the premises. Besides, what I wanted to say - and do - wasn't appropriate to do at his job. So when the cabbie asked where I wanted to go I blurted out "bookstore" and he took off from there.

Which is how I found myself perusing textbooks at a local shop, rocking out in my personal bubble to the music in my headphones. Nervousness started to spread up my spine as I thumbed the large bindings, irrational thoughts filling my head

. Maybe he won't be happy to see me. I can't blame him, I'm a mess. But he's kind of a mess too, maybe we could wipe each other clean. Maybe.

I tried to shake off the self-doubt but found it difficult to do. I knew he said he loved me and I believed him...but did I really?

Am I scared of him not loving me, or am I not trusting myself to love him? How long am I going to keep myself guarded? Would he even wait for me?