Felix
Later that night, I bring by the adjusted cello case, and Jenna answers the door. She’s clearly showered, with her wet hair up in a loose bun, and she’s wearing yoga pants and a Yellowcard t-shirt. She’s also wearing glasses, though I didn’t know she wore contacts. It’s nice to see what she looks like when she isn’t going out. Another glimpse of the life I wish I was a part of.
“Hey,” I say. “I didn’t want to interrupt your game, but I brought this by for Ty.”
Jenna is looking at me, horrified, and I think for a second I’ve done something terribly wrong. “If this is a bad time—”
“No!” Jenna says. “No, I just—” She puts a hand on her hair and grimaces. “If I’d known you were coming by, I would have . . .”
My stomach plummets, and all sorts of scenarios fly through my mind, culminating in an image of her and Alec having a heart to heart and getting back together thanks to my intervention. I’m practically waiting for him to come to the door in a towel, when Jenna finishes her sentence.
“I would have put in my contacts at least,” she says. “I look like a mess.”
I blink at her as I come back to reality. “What?”
Jenna is folding in on herself, and backing away from the door. “You must be wondering what you’ve been doing with me.” She says this like she’s joking, but I can tell she means it.
“Jenna,” I say. “You’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful. You don’t have to dress up for me.”
She looks surprised, and I try not to take it personally. But really, how shallow does she think I am?
“I have sisters,” I say. “I know what girls look like without makeup.”
“Felix!” Ty comes flying by Jenna and throws his arms around me.
I squeeze him back. “Hey, kid. I know how much you liked hanging out in the cello case, so I’ve got it all set up for you.”
Ty’s eyes light up as he looks at it.
“You take the brackets off, and it’s mine again,” I say. “But as long as you don’t lock yourself inside, you can keep it until your mom is sick of it taking up space.”
Ty lies down in the bottom of the case. “It’s like I’m a vampire!”
Jenna smiles at me, but she’s fiddling with her glasses self-consciously. I smile at her, and show Ty the holder for my bow. “See? I left the lid on so you can store stuff in here.”
Ty cackles in an eerie impression of the Count. “Mom! Can I sleep in here?”
“Sure. What do you say to Felix?”
Ty hops out of the case and throws his arms around me again. “Thank you, Felix.”
“You’re welcome, kid,” I say, and help him carry the case into the entryway.
Ty bounds up to Jenna. “Can Felix stay for game night?”
“I don’t want to interrupt family time,” I say.
“Felix might have other plans, you know,” Jenna says to Ty.
I look at her. Even if I did, I’d drop anything for her. “I don’t, actually.”
Ty looks at me hopefully, and Jenna gives me a tentative smile. “You’re welcome to stay,” she says. “But don’t feel like you have to.”
“Sure, kid,” I say. “I’ll play.”
Ty cheers and runs back toward the kitchen, and I step in and close the door.
“I thought The Game of Life brought you nothing but misery,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say. “But any time I spend with you does the opposite.”
Jenna’s smile widens. “You might like it better now, anyway. I made a couple changes.” We follow Ty to the kitchen where The Game of Life is already spread across the table, along with bowls of popcorn sprinkled with M&Ms.
“You can start at the beginning,” Ty says.
“Give him a head start,” Jenna says, passing her bowl over to me to share. “We’re already halfway in.”
“Fine,” Ty says. “You can start with a career. Here.” He holds out the deck to me.
I draw a card. “My career is . . . Gigolo?”
Jenna tries valiantly to hold in a laugh. She’s blacked out the word banker with a Sharpie and written in her own addition.
“Seriously?” I ask.
“You’d be great at that,” Ty says, and Jenna’s laugh slips out. I grin over at her. God, that laugh . . .
“Gee,” I say. “Thanks.” I sit down next to Ty and select a little car and a tiny blue peg.
Jenna hugs her arms across her chest. “I really am sorry I’m not dressed.”
I want to make some comment about never needing to apologize for being undressed, but I don’t because of Ty. “You’re gorgeous,” I say. “Ty, don’t you think your mom looks pretty?” I take a small handful of popcorn and M&Ms while he scrutinizes her.
After a long moment, he shrugs. “She’s looked prettier.”
I shake my head at him. “Clearly I need to teach you some rules about women. Rule number one. If someone asks you if a girl is pretty, you say yes.”
Ty looks skeptical. “You shouldn’t lie.”
“Do you know what a white lie is?” I ask.
He thinks about this. “A lie about something that’s white?”
“No,” I say. “A white lie is when you don’t tell the whole truth, because doing so would hurt people’s feelings.”
Jenna raises an eyebrow at me. “So you’re just telling me I look pretty because that’s the rule.”
“No,” I say. “I’m telling you that because it’s true. I can’t help if the kid is blind.”
“I’m not blind,” Ty says. “My vision is 20/20. I had it checked.”
Jenna shakes her head, but she’s smiling.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s try this again, now that you know the rule. Doesn’t your mom look pretty?”
Ty looks at her for longer than is necessary. “She looks pretty, but she’s looked prettier.”
“Better,” I say through a bite of popcorn. “Ready for the other rules?”
Ty nods solemnly.
“Never admit a woman looks fat, even if she does. And always say she’s smart, even if she isn’t.”
Ty makes a face. “That’s not fair. Katelyn from school called me dumb, and what if she does that again this year? Why can’t I say that to her?”
“Because you shouldn’t be saying that to anyone,” Jenna says. She narrows her eyes at me. “How am I supposed to believe you now, when you say I’m pretty, or thin, or smart?”
“Ah, I’ve neglected rule number four.” I lower my voice conspiratorially. “Never tell a girl about the rules.”
Jenna picks up my gigolo card and throws it at me.
“Hey!” Ty says. “Don’t lose the pieces!”
“Sorry,” Jenna says to him. “It’s Felix’s turn.”
“For the record,” I say, “you should follow those rules for everyone. No one wants to be told that they’re ugly or fat or stupid.” Jenna nods her agreement, but Ty’s already back to concentrating on the game, switching his peg children around in the car “so they can try out all the seats.”
We play for a while, and Ty racks up more children and wealth and Nobel Peace Prizes while Jenna and I starve to death alone in our plastic cars, having inexplicably spent our salaries on tennis camps and hosting charity police events.
I groan as I land on “Buy a High Definition TV, pay $5000,” and fork over the very last of my money. “I’d think a gigolo would be a more lucrative career. Like I could at least afford a TV for my decrepit fault line house.”
Ty gives me a serious look. “Mom says people don’t appreciate the arts.”
I look at Jenna, and she laughs again.
Ty glances back and forth between us and then stands up from the table. “I’m going to go poop,” he says, scooping a book off the couch as he passes it, then looks at me. “I read when I poop, like a gentleman.” And then he trots off to the bathroom and leaves us alone.
“I don’t know where that kid came from,” Jenna says, shaking her head.
I laugh. “That’s the first thing I ever said to him. He’d just finished telling me that Mason is a douche. And he very articulately told me that he came from his mom and his biological father.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
We smile at each other, and I realize our hands are both resting on the table, inches apart.
I pull mine back, and Jenna hugs hers around herself again.
I clear my throat. “Wherever he came from, I love that kid.”
Jenna stares at me. “Really?”
I wish I could snatch the words back. I don’t want to come off as creepy, and everyone seems to think I shouldn’t want anything to do with Ty. When I hesitate, Jenna frowns. “It was just an expression,” she says.
“No!” I say. “I mean, I like the kid. He’s smart and hilarious.” And tenacious as hell. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t given up on the idea of me being his dad. To the contrary, we’re probably encouraging him.
“He is.” She looks like she wants to say something else, and I cock my head at her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Jenna says. “It’s just . . . that’s a big part of why things didn’t work out with Alec. He’s good to Ty, but me having a kid was definitely baggage, you know? Something he’d put up with to be with me, not because he was actually interested in being Ty’s father. And I wanted better for Ty.” She winces. “Not that I’m saying you need to—”
“I would, though,” I say, my heart pounding as I feel the truth of those words, too. “I mean, if we were to work out. I’d want to be a part of his life, too.” I smile. “I don’t think he’d stand for anything else, do you?”
A slow smile spreads across her face, and she puts her hand back on the table. “No, I don’t suppose he would.”
I stare at it, and wish for all the world that I could take it in mine. We’re talking about a future now that goes far beyond the next four years, and I want to say exactly the right thing.
But Jenna speaks first. “We can’t do four years of this.”
“I know. I told Alec as much.” I gesture to her hair and clothes. “And if you’re trying to make me want you less, it isn’t working.”
Jenna melts into her chair, and I’m glad I’m at least doing something right.
“Also, what did you tell him gigolo means?”
Jenna grins. “Someone who does a jig.”
I groan. “That poor kid. Someday this misunderstanding is going to destroy him.”
“I know. I’m a terrible parent. I just couldn’t sit through this game again without spicing it up a little.”
“I warned you.”
She elbows me. “Which you just have to keep reminding me, don’t you?”
My skin tingles where her arm hit mine, and I lean back in my chair.
“I’m going to put Ty to bed in a minute,” Jenna says. “He’s so close to winning, I think we can call it here.”
I nod, and scoot back. “I should go.”
“No,” Jenna says, and then, quieter, “would you stay?”
I’m surprised she asked, and there’s no way I can turn her down. “Yeah, of course.”
Jenna smiles.
“I talked to Alec,” I say. “And he seems to have let go of the cello manager thing. So at least there’s that.”
“Was he awful about it?”
“No,” I say. “I may have told him how much I care about you.”
Jenna looks surprised. “How’d he take that?”
I shrug. “I’m pretty sure he thinks we’re idiots.”
Jenna rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. It’s mutual.”
Ty comes barreling out of the bathroom, and Jenna spins around to face him. “It’s bedtime,” she says, cutting him off before he can leap back into his chair at the table. “Go get ready and then I’ll read to you.”
Ty’s face falls, and then he glances at me. “Can Felix read to me?”
Jenna looks at me.
“Sure,” I say. “If you do what your mom says.”
Ty races around the house between having a snack and getting into his pjs and brushing his teeth. When he’s done, he hands me a well-worn copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban.
“Hey,” I say. “I’ve read this one. Who’s your favorite character?”
“Hagrid,” Ty says.
“Tell him why,” Jenna says, putting the pieces of Life back into the box.
“Because he’s big,” Ty says. “So everywhere he goes, everything smushes him.”
I smile. “But I bet he wouldn’t fit in a cello case.” I open to the chapter he bookmarked and start reading about Dementors and Patronuses and general defense against the Dark Arts. Jenna finishes cleaning up and curls up in the armchair across from us, listening. And I can’t help but feel for a moment as though we actually belong together, the three of us—and even if it’s only a glimpse, a taste of a potential future I want desperately but am unlikely ever to have, I’m still glad for it.
After Jenna takes Ty up to bed, I stand at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her. “Are you sure you want me to stay?” I ask when she joins me. “Could be dangerous.”
“I’m a grown-ass woman, you know. I can control myself.”
I give her a weak smile. “Yeah. But I’ve had your voice running through my head all day telling me exactly what you want me to do to you . . .”
“Yeah, well,” Jenna says. “I’ve been thinking I might need some more details about that conversation you had with Alec. Something about how much you care about me? I’m guessing you didn’t use the words emotional intimacy.”
I laugh. “I did not.”
“That’s good. There’s no possible way to explain it to him. I’m not sure there’s even a word for what we are.”
My head spins, and I feel warm all over. “I think there might be. It’s two words, actually.”
Jenna raises her eyebrows. “Oh?” She’s standing one step above me, and I could reach out right now and wrap my arms around her waist and sweep her into me and kiss her and never let her go.
She gives me one of her trademark coy smiles. “Am I going to have to get it out of you?”
That’s a dangerous proposition and I know it.
Jenna takes the last step down. She’s so close I can smell that coconut shampoo Gabby was talking about, and all I want to do is reach out and hold her. I hate myself for what I’m about to say.
“I really have to go,” I say. “Or I’m going to kiss you.”
She looks up at me. “At least tell me what the two words are. Otherwise I’ll be up all night wondering.”
I doubt that’s exactly what she’ll be thinking about all night—I already know what’s going to be running through my head. And maybe it’s because I’m not allowed to touch her, and this verbal intimacy is the only kind we’re allowed, but the words fall right out of my mouth. “Soul mates,” I say.
She makes this small noise. “You think so?”
“I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Soul mates,” Jenna says, barely above a whisper, and she reaches for my hand. Her touch sets my whole body tingling, and I swear the lights are growing brighter and the whole world is growing softer around the edges and I reach out and take her other hand.
I’m dizzy, and the room is spinning, and my face dips toward hers before I catch myself. I groan and take a step back, rubbing my forehead. “If we’re going to follow the rules, we need to have these conversations over the phone. If we keep doing this, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Jenna presses her lips together, and then she takes one step closer. I can feel the heat from her body, and it lights a fire in mine. “Honestly,” she says, “I’ve had it with Alec and his stupid rules that only give him what he wants.” She slides her hand up my arm.
I can’t take it anymore. I wrap my arms around her waist, push back a damp tendril of hair that’s fallen out of its elastic band, and press my lips against hers. Kissing Jenna feels like coming home after a long time away. It’s warm and familiar and wonderful and as natural as breathing.
And then the door opens, and Alec walks in. Jenna and I both turn, but Jenna holds onto me, and we don’t step apart. Alec gives us a dark look, and then hangs up his keys. He walks in a wide circle around us and heads up the stairs.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Jenna asks after him.
Alec doesn’t even turn around. “I don’t have anything to say I haven’t already said.” He walks up the stairs, and his boots clomp down the hall above us.
For a second, Jenna and I just stand there, our arms still around each other.
“I should still go,” I say. “Because we both know where this is going to lead, and I still can’t stand the thought of being with you just once.”
“I’m done with the rules,” Jenna says.
“Me, too. But unless you’re done pretending to be with Alec, unless you’re done with the band, what are we going to do? As much as I hate to say it, Alec is right. If we sneak around, we’re going to get caught.”
Jenna leans against my chest. Having her this close takes my breath away, but I know I’m right. I want to hold on to what I felt at the hotel. I love her and I want to do right by her, not throw everything away on one night.
“What if you stayed here?” Jenna says. “Like, in the guest room, officially. We can tell people our new cellist needed a place to live, and you can sleep in my room at night, and Alec can deal with it.”
My heart beats faster. There has to be a catch, some reason this can’t work.
“We’d be able to keep this up longer that way,” I say. “Don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” Jenna says.
“Still, though. Probably not four years.”
“Probably not. But I’ve been unhappy this last year, and even before that. I don’t want to keep going with the five year plan.”
I press my forehead to hers. “Maybe we could make it through the tour, and then figure out our exit strategy.”
Jenna holds her breath, and for a terrifying minute, I’m sure she’s going to say no. That’s fast—just a few months, where until today we were looking at years.
“Okay,” Jenna says, quietly. “So you’ll stay.”
Chills run down my body. “God, yes. Please let me stay.”
Jenna leans in and kisses me again, but I cut it short.
“You have to tell Alec,” I say. “I really do not want to be interrupted when he realizes he has more stuff to say.”
She grins and bites her lip. “I’ll tell him.”
And I follow her up the stairs, stunned, lightheaded, and still unsure that I’m not downstairs dreaming on her couch.