Page 59 of Fumbling for Perfection

Not ready to forgive her and worried I’ll say something more I’ll regret, I turn and point at the uneaten sandwich.

“Eat the damn sandwich.”

I storm out of her apartment and do all I can not to slam the door in my wake. As soon as I’m in my car, I open my phone and find the closest grocery store and load up the virtual shopping cart.

It’s too late for delivery, so I select the first opening in the morning to have them sent to Riley’s apartment. If she’s carrying my child, she’s not going to starve herself.

Tossing my cell on the passenger seat, I drive across town to my hotel, where sleep evades me.

When I’m finished with the weighted portion of my workout the following morning, I change the music on my phone from classic rock to rap and start my run on the treadmill. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see three missed texts from Riley.

PERFECTION: Thank you for the groceries. That was very kind of you.

PERFECTION: I’m sorry I hurt you, Walker.

PERFECTION: Thank you for making me a sandwich last night. I finished it after you left.

I respect her more for not making excuses. For not blaming me or Jackson or her finances for the choices she made. I pump my legs faster and push myself another two miles before slowing to a jog when my phone signals another incoming text.

JACKSON: Riley says you stopped by last night. You guys good?

ME: When did you find out?

I don’t elaborate. Jackson and I are barely on talking terms as it is. Our relationship is still new. I don’t even ask how he’s doing or what our father said to him. Most of me doesn’t give a rat’s ass. All I care about is Riley.

JACKSON: Two part question. Answer to the first part. I figured she was in deep with the guy she was seeing about a month ago. Part two: after golfing.

Shit. He didn’t have a clue I was the guy Riley was seeing until the night before his wedding. Or was he referring to her pregnancy? I don’t know why it matters, but I ask anyway.

ME:When did you learn she was pregnant?

JACKSON:Friday night.

ME:And about me?

JACKSON:Friday night. We good?

ME:I don’t know.

JACKSON:That’s fair. I’m on my way over to Riley’s. She didn’t say how your talk went. Anything I should know?

ME:I don’t know.

JACKSON:That’s fair. I’ve got a few days off. Love to get together before you go back to CA.

ME:Maybe.

He likes my texts and I drop my cell in the cup holder. Turning up the speed and incline of the treadmill, I pump out another two miles while I try to distract myself from my emotions with physical pain.

Thirty minutes in the sauna doesn’t help either. Nor does a long shower. Tomorrow’s a big day, one only a few know about, so I take advantage of one of my final days of semi-anonymity and take a self-guided tour of Boston.

I enjoyed it more when Riley showed me the sights, not that I paid much attention to them. So wrapped up in being with her, holding her hand, listening to her talk and laugh, stealing kisses when I could, I let Boston and its history pass by in a blur.

This time isn’t much different, except I’m alone. I walk the Freedom Trail, veering off it when my mind wanders, only to find myself near North Station. I walk along the oceanfront, check out the U.S.S. Constitution, walk along the Charles River to Chinatown, and make it back to my hotel room after seven.

I order room service, barely tasting my meal, and go to bed early. In the morning, I pump out another long workout, shower, then change into slacks and mentally prepare for another life-changing decision.

Well, the prior wasn’t a choice I’d been given.

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