It wasn't a wise idea to go see Joe, my ex-boyfriend, who lived two hours away and in another country. I knew he lived with another woman, but he told me through various phone calls and e-mails that he was not happy with her. I felt that same warm, comfortable feeling when we talked on the phone. I hadn't seen him in three years and I just wanted to know if we still that connection. Our break-up had more to do with my friends and family than the relationship with Joe itself.
"He's no good" and "he is just using you" are what I heard from them. But when we were together, he was attentive, loving, passionate and would do anything for me. He was a bit possessive, which I thought was cute. He became jealous easily, but I thought that was healthy for our relationship. I was his woman and he let the world know it. I felt safe when I was with him, like no one would hurt me.
When we spoke on the phone following our physical break-up, (it was hard to cut the cord emotionally), he would always ask who I was dating, then get upset if I told him I was seeing someone, yet he dated, slept around and eventually moved in with another woman, all the while professing his true and undying love for me.
And I fell for all the lines, for the words he used, the way he said them, how he practically purred on the telephone during intimate moments of mutual satisfaction.
All I knew is that I wanted and needed to see this man again—to see if our connection was still as strong as it used to be. We made arrangements two days beforehand and Joe called his boss, Evan, who owned a construction company, and we had a three-way phone conversation. Evan was able to give me directions to the job site as well as his cell phone number in case I got lost.
None of my family or friends knew I was taking the trip across the border. Had they known, I would not have been able to justify my decision, so I kept it to myself. It was the thrill of the adventure, the excitement and anticipation of seeing Joe again that kept me driving for two hours.
Heading into the city, I punched in Evan's cell number and was greeted by a breathy sigh and a big 'hello' from a man I sensed was grinning from ear to ear.
"Evan, hi it's Jade," I told him.
I could almost feel him smile. "Hi Jade, are you in the city yet?"
"Just on the outskirts, and I'm looking for the exit you gave me."
"It shouldn't be much more than 10 minutes from where you are," he told me.
After a few quick directions, we disconnected and I found myself maneuvering through three-lane then four-lane traffic like an Indy 500 driver. Heading off the main through-way, I came to a stop light, spotting a Harley Davidson dealership in front of me. It seemed like as good of a place as any to try Evan again on the cell, since I seemed to have gotten lost.
"You're not far from me now," he said. "Head straight, go to the church...it's on your left, turn there."
"Can you see me yet?" I asked, someone hysterical.
"I see you, you're driving a red car...I'm standing in the middle of the road waving at you."
I smiled and drove cautiously around the children playing in the street. My cell seemed to grow a life in my ear when Evan started to laugh. I could see the smile play across his lips as he waved at me.
"Hi there," I said. "Nice shirt."
He wore a lime green tee-shirt that was almost as bright as his smile. We were still connected by cell, but there was something else going on here. My stomach dropped to my knees, my heart thudded in my chest. I didn't know if it was the excitement of actually being in the city in one piece, seeing Joe, or staring down a brown-eyed, dark-haired, beautiful man in a florescent shirt and well-worn Levi's.
"I guess I can hang up now," I said, as I drove up beside Evan. We disconnected at the same time, but our eyes never wavered from each other. When I stepped out of the car, the oppressive heat wilted me. Evan watched me walk toward him, hand extended in a warm welcome. I couldn't stop smiling. It seemed like his jaw dropped when he got a look at me from head to toe.
My 5'10 frame holds more pounds than I'm comfortable with. I'm no perfect size 10...or 12 for that matter. I had on a pair of jeans, thong sandals and a short-sleeved blue blouse that clung to my curves. My short, wavy dark hair was gelled in all directions...it's the new look, my stylist had convinced me, and it suits you. At the moment, I didn't feel like I needed the gel!
"Hey, thanks for directing me here safely," I said, grasping his hand in a warm gesture that seemed to last a little too long. I felt the currents of electricity running from his fingers to mine. Our eyes locked, as did our smiles.
"It was my pleasure," he said. "Boy, Joe told me you weren't all that, but you were his..I have to tell you, you ARE all that...and then some."
We were still holding hands.
My breath caught in my chest. It was the heat of the day, I was sure of it. It couldn't be the heat of this man's words. I was sure he was talking about someone else. No one would be saying such sweet words to me.
In the excitement of meeting Evan, I hadn't seen Joe yet. I looked around the job site and saw many young men in various stages of undress due to the almost 100 degree temperature. I saw movement at the top of a ladder which was propped against the building on which the crew was working, then I saw Joe. He was at the peak of the house, standing precariously on the ladder that was being held by a large, tattooed guy wearing only a pair of jeans and a bandanna. Nice eye candy, I thought, as I stood and watched, and waited.
Joe finally spotted me. He smiled, and gestured a "hello", kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them to his chest. I acknowledged him with a subtle nod as I stood alongside the boss and surveyed the crew.
I could see Evan taking in the exchange, but he didn't say a word. Joe didn't stop work just because I was in town. I was somewhat disappointed in the greeting. I was expecting to be swept off my feet in a bear-hug of an embrace, kissed senseless and whisked away to a quite spot where we would make love for hours. The disappointment thumped my chest and, crest-fallen, I planted a smile on my face. My sunglasses hid the tears that swam in my eyes. I was here now, I thought. I might as well make the most of it. I wasn't about to turn around and drive two hours to get back home.
I nosed around the job site for a bit, watching the men bustle and grunt in the heat, and listened to them curse and swear for about a half hour before Joe actually came over to say hello.
"Hey you," he said. "You're still beautiful." He, on the other hand, looked rough and tired. He had grown a full beard which was now white with the age of a hard-edged 45-year-old. His piercing, blue eyes looked right through me. The bandanna he wore under his ball cap was drenched with sweat, as was his tank top that clung to his lean, muscled and tanned body.
"Hey yourself," I said and leaned in for a kiss. It was a light, quick peck on the lips and then he was back to work.
Evan walked up to me as Joe climbed the ladder. I was finding it hard to breathe again. Had to have been the heat.
"Want to go for a drink?" he asked me.
"Who you talking to?"
"You...pretty lady...do you want a beer?"
Blush. I could feel it start from my kneecaps.
"Um, yes, I'd love one actually."
"Cool. Hey, Joe, I'm taking your girl to the bar down the street. I can do that because I'm the boss." He laughed, then ushered me to the street with a hand on the small of my back. My skin was on fire where he touched me. When I looked at him, his brown eyes smoldered. My belly flipped, and my heart skidded and came to an abrupt halt. I gulped in a mouthful of hot air and swallowed. Yeah, that beer would go down my parched throat really well right now, I thought. I needed to get this fire in my body under control before I combusted.
The bar was a welcome refuge to the scorching heat. A blast of air conditioning sent goose bumps shooting up my arms. We each straddled a bar stool and ordered a round of beers. Before I could fire up a cigarette, Evan reached for my lighter—which I held in my hand—and lit it for me.
"Thank you," I said, inhaling deeply, sending a plume of smoke into the air.
"My pleasure."
"What should we drink to?" I asked him.
"You make a toast."
"How about..." I wanted to come up with something profound to mark this very surreal experience I was having with Joe's boss. "How about, to endings...and new beginnings."
He smiled. "Perfect."
We clinked our beers, held eye contact and sipped.
"Do you play pool?" I asked Evan, a few beers later.
"Love pool, you want a game?"
"I wouldn't want to beat you," I said with a smirk. "Actually, to warn you, I haven't played in ages. But I'd like to make a small wager."
"You're a hustler, aren't you?" He stood to walk me to the back room where the pool table sat forlornly, in the dimness of a lone light bulb that dangled from the ceiling. Three small Formica-topped tables sat empty, their chairs held together by duct tape chewing gum. We took a table farthest away from the bar, in the corner, un-noticeable to those who entered through the front door. The bar wasn't one noted for it's decor.
"And the wager would be?" Evan tipped his beer to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine.
Those damn butterflies in my belly were feeling more like bats.
"How about a kiss," I said, somewhat boldly, but a little bit shy.
He closed his eyes, smiled and sighed deeply.
"I like that," he said.
