Jay Walking (11 page)

Only a
little
. If I were him, I'd be
terribly
ashamed. I can't imagine not wanting your child, not knowing which is yours in a sea of other kids is unfathomable. "You should be, Daniel. Don't you wonder about him? Don't you spend each day thinking about how he's progressing? And don't you want to know what his laugh or his voice sounds like?"

He meets eyes with me again. "Don't make me feel more guilty than I already do."

"No. You don't get to tell me that. You deserve every ounce of guilt and shame. Try being a single parent and then talk to me. You don't help with a thing. You can't even send money to your son!"

"So this is about money?" He pulls out his wallet and throws some cash on the table. "Here. It's fifty bucks, all I've got. Now, can I see my son?" He slams his wallet shut and puts it back in his pocket.

I pick up the cash and toss it back to him. "This has nothing to do with money and everything to do with the fact that you left me and your flesh and blood to fend for ourselves. Thank God my parents let me move in with them or I might be on the street with James. I don't even want to think about that."

"You don't need to, Chelsea. I already told you that you and I can be a family now." He's staring at me, his face statuesque as he tries to read mine. "And James."

My eyes well up and my gaze moves beyond him toward the window. People walk by and cars move slowly down the street, not a care visible to the world. When I came here, I really didn't know what I wanted to do. I had no clue what I planned on doing and if I would allow him in James' life. Part of me wanted him and James to know one another. Then, with a simple two words, my decision is made.

"
And
James." I slide my mug to the side and stand up. "I'm so glad he's an afterthought to you." I take my time pushing the chair back in. "You just decided this for me." I push my hands against the back of the chair. "The answer is
no
, Daniel. No, you and I won't be a family. We won't be together. And no, you won't see James. I don't want to talk to you again, and I won't entertain the idea any longer. I made a decision, and it's final. James and I are walking out of your life just as you walked out of ours."

I step away from the table, open the door and walk out onto the sidewalk, the warm air spilling onto my face, and a burden being lifted off my shoulders.

Sal's Scoops is a favorite around town. Located right in the middle of what's considered "downtown" in our little suburb of Milwaukee, the tiny shop is recognizable a mile away with its striped canopy and wrought-iron benches sitting on the sidewalk. Kids gather around the bike rack with their ice cream cones the second warm air is here to stay, young couples share milkshakes at the counter, and others enjoy banana splits in the booths. Not only is the old-fashioned store known for the ice cream (salted caramel is my favorite), but also their roasted almonds. I came here as a kid, and I'm anxious to be going with Jay.
 

We went to a movie (I don't even remember the name. I let him pick, and he chose some action flick. I spent most of the movie snuggled in his arms with my eyes closed, daydreaming). He suggested Sal's, and as he opens the door for me, a surge of self-doubt grips me from moving forward.
 

"Everything okay?" Jay asks as he continues to hold the door.
 

I glance in at the line waiting to place their order. All different shapes and sizes of people not even caring about the calories they're about to consume. If they don't care, I guess, why should I?
 

"Nope. Everything's great!" I enter the shop with a wide grin, meaning those words. We've been a couple for a few weeks now, and I'm enjoying every minute with him. Our schedules sometimes make dates hard, with me juggling my job and James, and him with his crazy hours at the hospital. We've been making it work though.
 

Today the chalkboard behind the counter suggests we try Adam's Apple Pie Amaretto, a mix of vanilla ice cream and apple and cherry bits. I love when people attempt to make frozen yogurt healthy by tossing some fruit in. I'll pass.
 

"What are you having?" I lace my fingers with Jay's, and it's comfortable.
 

He's reading each flavor in detail - every single one.
 

"You take your sweets seriously, don't you?" I joke.
 

He pulls me in close and rests his chin on my head. "Just seeing if anything new came in. I'm a chocolate fan myself."

I think I'll go against my normal scoop choice and skip the salted caramel. Chocolate sounds good to me, too. "Let's get chocolate chunk," I suggest.

I'm wrapped in a big hug, and these arms around me are what I need. Jay moves his head and nuzzles my neck, and shivers shoot through my body.
 

When we reach the counter, he orders for both of us and pays. I'm used to him paying for things now, although I do pick up the tab when I can. I don't want him to think I rely on him for money, or expect him to take the lead and pay. When he offers, though, I no longer refuse.
 

We receive our order in a few minutes, two bowls with one scoop each, a bright red cherry sitting on top. A booth opens up near the back, and we decide to sit there. I'm surprised when Jay sits next to me, instead of across.

"Is this weird?" he spoons out some of the chocolate chunk, being sure to get a bite-sized chip in the sample.

"No. It's just ... different."

His hand rests on my knee. "Good different, I hope?"

I nab the cherry off the top of my bowl. "Very." I brush the cherry against his lips, and he opens enough to bite off the stem, and then reaches over and gives me a kiss. The cold of the ice cream shocks me, but in only moments I warm up with the touch of his tongue. The heat emitting from my body could melt every scoop of ice cream in here.

"Do you have any news on the practice?" I push my sexual energy back into the deepest part of my body and try to move past how badly I want to push him down in the booth and do naughty things to him.

"I'm trying to get a hold of my partner. No luck."

"Really? Is she out of town or something?" I realize he hasn't told me much about his partner, other than she's female.

"No clue." His spoon clanks against the bowl as he puts it down. "I'm not sure what's going on with her. Our loan almost hit a snag a couple weeks ago infuriating her. She's handling all that, and I'm paying the down payment. That's all I'm involved in on that side of things."

"You aren't backing anything else financially?" I'm surprised by this. I thought he would want an active hand in everything if he was opening a practice. I sure would.

His hand falls off my knee. Obviously I struck a soft spot. "She didn't want any of my money. She's an older, established doctor, with plenty in savings and quite the clientele built up. The plan is once we find a place, she handles financing, and when we open, she'll bring her clients over. When we start bringing in a steady profit and business, we can hire on another doctor and prep for her retirement in a few years. I convinced her to let me help by putting money down." Jay grabs the spoon and taps the side of the bowl. "Something's up with her, though. I'm getting a little nervous." He takes another bite. "Enough about this. You haven't touched your ice cream."

I haven't. The bowl of sugar is sitting in front of me, and all I can imagine is this little scoop will throw off my entire workout plan. I can't even remember the last time I ate something like this. Is food like a drug? If I eat this, will I barrel into a tornado of bad eating? I lost almost all the weight I set out to lose. Sure, my stomach still sags, and my pouch still exists, but it's smaller now. I'm making significant progress. I doubt I'll ever get back my solid stomach, but I don't want to go backward.

I'm probably being silly, though. It's only food. This is a treat. A fun date with Jay topped off with some sweets. I really can't ask for anything more. I'm in shape, and I'm involved with a wonderful man.
 

A young child cries out behind us, and we both turn. I recognize that toddler, probably a little over a year. Another child, around the same age, grabs onto her mom's legs as she bends down and picks up the little boy. When she turns her head, I place the face - Daniel's ex (or soon to be?), Lauren.

This is the first time I'm seeing her in person. If not for Facebook, I would have no idea it's her. Facebook is weird that way. All these pictures take over your computer screen, and when you're face to face with that individual, it's as though animation is coming to life, almost surreal. Her blonde hair falls below her shoulders, popping into curls at the bottom. It's all one-length and looks perfect even though I'm sure she only ran her fingers through in the morning. Even after two children she's slim, her skinny jeans accenting every part of her body in the right place, and her breast size announcing her babies still take the boob. I weaned James off early because I kept getting infections. As her hand runs down the little girl's hair, I don't notice a wedding ring. She's already taken hers off.
 

"Chelsea?" The voice beside me says. "Chelsea? Are you okay?"

I don't know how long I've been staring. Seeing Lauren steps away from me, a human being, a woman, a single mother with two children, my soul fills with shame after everything. I used to justify my relationship with Daniel that if he weren't cheating with me, he'd be cheating with someone else. When I was with him, I never saw a picture of Lauren. She only was a name to me. A name I hated. A name with no existence other than an obstacle standing between me and Daniel. After I had James, and I began seeking her out on Facebook, a touch of regret came over me, but in only pictures, she still wasn't real. Now she's less than ten feet away, living the same life I am, times two.
 

"Yeah, sorry." I break my trance, not recalling where Jay and I even were in conversation.
 

"I asked about the gym. What do you think about joining up at the rec center?"
 

Even though I broke my stare, I can still see Lauren, her thin lips kissing her babies, James' half-siblings, something I forgot to consider. My son has a brother and sister.
 

"Chelsea, what's the matter? You're a million miles away."

Her ass even is perfect. Jay is talking to me, but I can't stop watching her. Her. The one he chose to be with. The one he put a ring on. I flinch as a hand touches my shoulder.
 

"It's me, Chels, Jay. Tell me."

Shoot. What am I doing? Yes, Lauren is here, but I'm with Jay now, and he's more than I can ever ask for. He's funny, handsome, intelligent, and likes me for me. He's dating me publicly, not hiding me away, ashamed of me. I came out of my affair with Daniel a stronger, more independent woman. I can't allow seeing his ex take all my progress away from me. None of this is Lauren's fault.
 

I want to devour the ice cream in front of me, and even lick the bowl, but I started my walking program with a goal in mind. And now, I want to surpass that target. "Let's do a 5K together."

He's taken aback. "Really? You want to run three miles?"

Is that how many miles one is? I only ever hear people talk about 5Ks or scroll past an advertisement on Facebook. I never took the time to figure out the length of one. "Well, I'm not required to run the entire thing, right? It's not against the rules or anything?"

Jay's face glows, and his smile warms me inside. "No, it's not against the rules. To give you an idea, though, imagine running the bases at Miller Park just over 45 times."

Gulp. Right now, I can't picture myself making it around once. This time I put my hand on his leg. "You can train me, right?" I'm sure he's doing the gulping now.
 

His hand rests on top of mine. "Let me know when you're ready."

I smile, knowing all too well what he's referring to, but not sure which I am ready for.

The 5K Jay signs us up for is in October. I think living in Wisconsin, this is risky. The weather can be beautiful - almost 60s, with a slight breeze, or freezing in the low 40s and a wind chill bringing the temp down another 15 degrees, or, God forbid, snow can bless us, and I mean this in the most sarcastic way humanly possible. Jay says I need a few months of training because I can't expect to run so far without practice. He's right. I'm sure I'll walk some of the race, but I do want to avoid walking as much as I can. He doesn't want me to push myself too hard if I can work my way up to it. What I like best about this plan is the event is five months away, so he's planning something with me in the future.

My aunt Ruby is staying with my parents for a couple days and she asked to spend some time with James. She's so sweet, insisting I take some time away while she and my mom take James out shopping. He loves shopping. He always sits so nicely in his stroller and enjoys people smiling at him and waving. Even though I argue with my aunt multiple times, I give in and win myself an almost entirely free day. I'm in shock.

Lucky for me, Jay doesn't work this Saturday. Somehow he managed last Saturday off, too. I hate he works weekends. Things would be easier if he worked during the weekdays only, or even until seven, which would allow us time after James goes to bed. I don't sleep much anyway, and we could watch a movie together. He's shown interest in my scrapbooking stuff and may want to see what I've made. The weekend days I devote to James. Jay is fine with that, but I'm sure he wishes some of that time I reserved for him.
 

We meet at the rec center. Jay told me about a program that allows me to ease my way into running, and we can start on the treadmill today. The sun is out and the temperature is almost seventy, so I rather would run outside, but he texted me to go to the gym because I may get too warm running in the heat. Our ideas of training differ greatly. Immediately starting me with a run doesn't seem like working my way up to one.