Page 65 of Some Nights

20

Jax

The sun found me staring out the window this morning. I was back at home in Baltimore by eleven but it felt like I had driven here from California. I gunned the gas at eighty the whole way down Interstate ninety-five south. It was the longest three hours of my life, a never-ending tunnel of a dark and sometimes rainy night. I hadn’t even left the Bronx before I full-on regretted everything. I hate myself for the sadness in Saona’s eyes and am cold and sickened when I remember that cool mask that slipped over her face. It’s the same one she used here when she acted like she didn’t care and kept pushing me to go out with Matt, Lacey and Kelsey.

But maybe she just doesn’t care. She accepted what I was saying pretty quickly. It’s not like she put up a fight or came up with reasons why we shouldn’t stop what was happening with us.

She didn’t want me to leave until the morning but that was probably out of safety and politeness. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t be under the same roof with her and what? Sleep on her couch? How do I go from sleeping with her wrapped around me, to lying in another room with a closed door between us? How fucking uncomfortable would that have been?

Midway through the New Jersey Turnpike, the regrets turned into anguish and heartache. I had to call her. She didn’t pick up the phone.

I tried calling again and even pulled over to a rest stop just to text her that I love her and I didn’t want to do this. I ended up calling again instead but got her answering machine once more. I left her a message.

I’m sorry. Please call me.

I stopped by an all-night liquor store and went home to wait for her call. Waited all night, sitting on her favorite windowsill while drinking Mother Fuckers, feeling shitty like a motherfucker, and cursing my motherfucking luck. Her mother’s words played on a loop, over and over in my head. I kept trying to make sense of why I thought it was a good idea to listen to all that but the still voice within repeats all of it is true. She deserves more in her life than a guy that can’t give her what she needs.

And maybe she realizes that too because she hasn’t called.

Around eight in the morning, I got anxious and tired of waiting. I was no longer buzzed. The alcohol had long soured, leaving in my mouth that other brand of regret. I drank more than I should have and felt shittier than ever. I got in my car and drove some more. Between the Mother Fuckers and her mother’s words that wouldn’t let me sleep all night, there was one common word, mother. And now, I need to see mine. I can stay for two days before I have to work again. I had taken the extra days to be with Saona. It was supposed to be our long weekend. I look at the bag in the front seat of the car next to me. The gifts she bought for mom and Aunt Iris. How was I supposed to give them those and explain what’s happened?

I pull up to the driveway and Mom is in the yard. She likes to water her plants early in the morning. She’s wearing her favorite cargo shorts and American flag T-shirt. She looks up at my truck and her eyes widen. I get out the truck with theHamiltonbags in my hand. She shakes her head, her brown eyes so warm and welcoming.

“Oh, hon.” She drops the hose and walks to me with open arms.

She smells like vanilla, outdoors, and comfort. She’s so tiny, her full head of brown and gray hair barely reaches my chin. It should be almost ridiculous that a big man like me can be comforted by someone so small. But I always have been, always will be.

“It’s over.” It’s the only thing I can say.

“I can tell. What happened?”

“I’m not at her level, mom.”

“Did she snub you likethat girl?”

I shake my head and we sit on the swing on the porch. Aunt Iris joins us with coffee with milk and a blueberry muffin for me. She and my mom look so much alike. Except for my aunt’s faded blue eyes, made huge by the prescription of her glasses.

I tell them what happened. They listen and both end up looking as down as I am by the end.

“You have to give her some time but you shouldn’t give up. And you need to stop measuring yourself with money, Jackson. You’re a handsome, valuable man. You’re good and caring. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be in love with you.”

“She’s not in love with me, Mom.”

Saona cares. I know that. But there’s the physical and I was the only guy after David but I won’t tell my mom about all the orgasms.

“I love you, Jackson but you’re an idiot,” Mom says.

Aunt Iris nods so hard her glasses bob a little.

“Wow. It’s the worst day of my life and the two of you dump on me some more.”

Mom places a hand on my arm. “We’re not dumping on you. You spent two years withthat girland didn’t realize she didn’t love you and you didn’t really love her. You’ve been with Saona for months and don’t realize that you love her and she loves you.”

“I did love Josie.”

“You bought a house she hated and forbid you to buy.” Aunt Iris throws her hands up in the air in the dramatic way only southern women have down pat.

“And Saona does love you. She’s there for you, gives you advice on the house, listens to the things you say. She bought us presents, because she remembers and pays attention to the things you said about us. That’s why Iris and I will definitely accept the presents.”

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