Fuck. I think I’m going to throw up.
“Shit sorry, I thought you were Chase,” she says to me as if we’ve met before. “Wait…Chase doesn’t knock. Fuck.”
“I uhm. I’m…sorry,” I stutter, then turn around, ready to bolt for my car. When I hear my name. I stop, teetering dangerously between rage and confusion over a man I met a week ago who isn’t returning my calls but is telling his other girlfriend my name.
“You’re her, right? You have to be. I mean, Jamie showed me the pictu—Oh Jesus fuck, I just realized how this looks. We didn’t!”
“What?” It comes out a distant squeak as I turn back to stare at her. I was aiming for ‘strong woman who doesn’t need a man in her life if he’s going to cheat on her’. Nailed it.
“I’m Natalie, but you can call me Nat. I’m guessing he hasn’t gotten around to me yet; he did say it was a kind of whirlwind relationship between you two.” She’s talking so fast and waving her hands. I’m not sure what to make of the situation. She stops to take a breath, but then more of an information dump follows. “I’m his ex-wife who’s happily remarried with two children that are absolutely not his. Jamie’s. I mean, they’re my husbands. The kids. We’re not sleeping together. Not the kids, Jamie and I. I’m just a friend!”
“I…don’t think I understand.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m not explaining any of this well.” She takes my arm and pulls me back toward the door. “J is upstairs. Coop and I finally convinced him to take the good drugs last night, so I think he’s coming out of it. Do you want to come in for coffee? Coop will be back soon. He’s taking Pongo and Lulu home.”
“Uhm, I… okay?”
“I promise, I don’t bite; I just talk too much.”
Stepping inside transports me right into Jamie’s mind. Art decorates the walls, with books stacked on shelves, the floor, and any flat surface available. The art ranges from portrait sketches to beautiful landscapes, most of them leaning in stacks against tables and chairs. I want to flip through them and see the rest. It’s not messy in the traditional sense, it’s like everything has a place, but it has the trademark takes of an artist’s troubled mind. Chaos in organized form.
“He really likes you.” I’d almost forgotten Natalie was there. I remember the name now, and what Elle said about her. She’s right, we haven’t gotten around to talking about her at all. Until last night, I assumed when Jamie talked about ‘the divorce’, he was referencing his parents’ divorce. “He said it hasn’t been long for you two, but I know him better than most people. The other night I was here dropping some stuff off and he was a tornado tearing through this place and getting packed up. He was so excited about the trip you two were taking. I’ve only ever seen that twinkle in his eyes twice before. The day we met, and the day we said I do.”
She sets a cup of coffee on the table by the milk and sugar. I wonder how many cups she’s had already. The scent of bacon hits me, making my stomach growl as it reminds me I haven’t been eating.
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Uhm, I’m not really hungry. I think I’m still a bit confused.” It’s strangely easy to open up to her. I explain about the missed calls and what Chase told me while I glance around the room. Stacks of papers litter the table along with bills and financial documents. Under those, I discover sketches in various forms of completion. I shift the first one, an apple, to the side and find one of a cat, enormous eyes staring up at me with only half the face finished. Below that is an attempt at a shop interior that looks a bit like the boba shop next to work. He must not have liked it though, because this and the next few sketches below it have scratched lines through them.
“This all seems bonkers, I’m sure. Trust me, though, you don’t have to worry about James Barton cheating on you. He’s as loyal as they make them. He’s just—there’s a lot of baggage and he’s still learning how to deal with it all.”
“We’ve been comparing patterns,” I say flatly.
“What?”
“Not important. I should probably go. I kind of got his address from a mutual friend and I feel like I’m invading his space and?—”
“Alexis!” Chase comes in from the back, runs over, and gives me a bear hug, lifting me off the chair. “Fuck, I’ve been trying to find your number, but his stupid ass has you programmed as something other than your damn name.” The lightbulb goes off in his head. “Shit! Your hair. You’re Cherry Blossom! I thought it was the flower place! God, I hate him sometimes.”
“Oh. I uhm, I got his address from Dani.”
“Son of a… I’ve been calling her since I dropped her off after the party to try to get a hold of you.” He sighs and drops onto the stool next to me with a soft smile. “You must be losing your damn mind.”
“That’s…an understatement.” My head is spinning and I understand absolutely nothing that’s going on. I can’t breathe and it’s too hot in here. I’m starving, and to top all that off, no one has told me a damn thing yet.
“Hey, do you want to bring him breakfast?” Natalie asks me, holding up a small plate and a travel mug.
“What?!” I snap. I didn’t mean to.I’m so confused, and they’re acting like this is normal. If this is James’s normal, I’m going to need some time to adjust to the chaos. What the hell have I done?
“Hey,” Chase says, taking my shoulders in his big, firm hands. “Breathe. He had a slip, emotionally. Elle does that to him and sometimes it takes a few days to get him out of it. If that’s not going to work for you, we understand and I’ll break it to him later. If you’re everything he’s described you as being, then bring him breakfast. It’s a lot to take in right now, we’re just… I dunno… used to it, I guess. It’s easy for us to forget you haven’t even known Jimbo for that long.”
Unsure of my answer, I stand and stare at the plate.
“Don’t tell him I called him Jimbo. He hates it. I do it to annoy him.” He shuffles through the stack of sketches and pulls one out, handing it to me. “When James lost his dad, it was like a giant piece of him died right along with him. He started letting go of everything else he cared about. He’s scared and a little lost. But I think I know what he’s looking for.”
I’m staring at my eyes, my face, and my mouth on paper. I almost don’t recognize it’s me. Not because it’s bad, no, it’s the opposite. This isn’t who I see in the mirror every day, it’s how he sees me. The smiles instead of the stress, the relaxed look in the corner of my eyes instead of the worry. This is how I feel when I’m around him.
I grab the plate and coffee and stare at Chase. “Upstairs. First door on your left. Don’t knock, just barge in. Don’t let him give you any bullshit, either. He’s a mess, but he’s our mess.”
