Jake Understood
Page 48

“Thanks for the talk.”
Cedric smacked me on the back. “I’ll let you get back to being a bracelet-making pussy.”
“Says the pussy-whipped guy who gave me the idea.”
He chuckled as he walked backwards out of the room. “Come join us for some pie when you’re done, fool.”
“Alright, man.”
***
Between the realization that I was truly in love for the first time in my life and the fact that I was still reeling from my mother’s present, my emotions were all over the place. I retreated upstairs for the night. This Christmas was definitely one that would always stick with me.
Clutching the metal of my father’s chain, I looked out the window to clear my head. The moon was almost full and so bright that it lit up my otherwise dark bedroom.
My father’s voice was clear as day in my head. “I love you to the moon.” It was what he used to say before putting me to bed at night when I was a kid. I’d told Nina that story during our long conversation at the diner in Chicago even though I’d never shared it with anyone.
When I was younger, it always fascinated me that you could be across the world from someone and still be looking up at the same moon.
I wanted her to share this moment with me, to see how spectacular the moon was. I picked up my phone.
Did you see the moon tonight?
I waited for a response. Maybe she turned in early, still recovering from our all-night outdoor Christmas party last Thursday night.
Then, it came.
Nina: I would have never thought to look out at the moon on Christmas Eve, but I am glad I did. You always have a way of opening up my eyes to things.
Suddenly, those gigantic blue eyes of hers were all I could see, eyes I never wanted to see go dark ever again, eyes I knew would be filled with sadness and confusion once I broke my news to her.
I would have given anything to have had her with me, to make love to her all night long in this bed with the moonlight shining on us.
Jake: There is nothing more I’d rather look at right now, actually.
Nina: The moon is beautiful.
Jake: I was talking about your eyes.
I kept typing.
Jake: They’re the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. I get lost in them sometimes. They comfort me in a way that nothing else can.
Nina: I love your eyes, too.
I love…you.
My heart was beating out of control as I typed the words:
I l-o-v-e y-o-u.
Fuck.
No.
I immediately erased it.
I couldn’t send that.
Not yet.
Jake: I know I’ve been confusing you. I am sorry. We need to talk when you come home.
There it was. Now that I’d put it out there, there was no going back.
Nina: I think we need to talk, too.
I closed my eyes and shut off my phone, feeling sick to my stomach and gearing up for another sleepless night.
***
Back in Brooklyn, the emptiness caused by Nina’s absence was more profound than it had been in Boston. I ended up not sending her any more messages on Christmas Sunday, though, because I felt like I needed to cool it.
I’d almost texted her that I loved her.
That would have been a big mistake for multiple reasons. For one, it would have been irresponsible to confess such a thing before we had our talk. More so, telling someone you love them for the first time via text message would have been asinine. So, a few days to clear my head were definitely needed.
Even though he’d driven Nina upstate, Ryan had only stayed away for Christmas weekend and had returned to our apartment Monday. Nina was planning on taking a bus back to the city at the end of the two weeks. Tarah had been using every opportunity to get Ryan and me to talk to each other. When she invited me to dinner with them downstairs Tuesday night, I ended up going just to piss him off and came to the conclusion that it was way more fun to kill him with kindness, thereby annoying the fuck out of him.
Nina and I texted on and off, but I mainly focused my time working on a sketch that would be her belated Christmas present. The image came from an idea that popped into my head based on something she said during our Chicago trip. It was finished and framed by mid-week then Fedexed to her parents’ house.
When my phone rang Friday afternoon as I was getting ready to leave work, I had a feeling it was her. Having mostly texted while apart, we rarely spoke on the phone, but something just told me she’d call me when she received my package.
I picked up. “Hey, you.”
“Jake…”
I closed my eyes at the sound of her sweet voice. I hadn’t heard it since she left, and it reawakened the physical need that I’d managed to keep at bay this week.
“Nina…”
I immediately snuck into an empty conference room and shut the door.
“Oh my God. Your present came,” she said, sniffling.
“Are you crying?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, man, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s okay. It’s all good.” She cleared her throat. “When? When did you do this? How did you do it?”
“I used the picture of him in your room. I waited until you went away to start, so you wouldn’t notice it gone.”
The sketch was of Nina’s brother Jimmy and my sister, Amanda. In the drawing, Amanda is whispering something into Jimmy’s ear as he laughs with a beaming smile. It was based on Nina’s comment that she wondered if they were conspiring in heaven to bring us together. In case she didn’t recognize the resemblance, I’d captioned it: Heaven’s Conspirators (Jimmy and Amanda). I was pretty confident, though, that my interpretation of both was spot on. Jimmy’s eyes came out particularly lifelike.