When Her Ex Comes Home

Damn! I'm not in Mom's house two minutes putting away the groceries she asked me to pick up when she rushes into the kitchen gushing. 

“Shaye, did you hear? Justin Tracy is back in town."

"Yes, mom, I heard, and I heard, and I heard. At least four people called to tell me he is back."

"Aren't you excited?"

"No! Should I be?"

"You were in love with him once."Mom takes the cereal box from my hand, putting it in a cabinet over the sink. "I think you never got over him." She turns, giving me one of her, 'don't tell me otherwise' looks.

"I have to go, Mom. I have a date." It is a half-truth. I do have to go, but I don't have a date.

"With that guy from work you went out with last week?"

"Yes!" I lie.

"When do I get to meet him?"

"Soon!" I call, rushing out the back door. I hurry to the driveway feeling guilty about the 'date' I made up. There is no guy at work. I manufactured him so she would stop nagging me about finding someone, settling down, and giving her grandkids.

Slamming the car door, I pull out my cell and call my best friend, Marcy.

"Can you meet me at Rosie's?  I need company."

Rosie's is a neighborhood hang-out. It has an old-fashioned jukebox filled with songs from the '60s with two pool tables, a horseshoe bar, a few tables, and booths. Back in the 60's it had been a cafe-style restaurant. Now it is a bar with neon beer signs, giant TVs with muted sport's channels, and Rosie's big welcoming smile. Marcy and I have been coming to Rosie's since we were old enough to drink legally.

"Okay, Shaye, I figure you heard Justin is back." Marcy tosses her Vera Bradley bag on the bar, slipping onto the stool next to me. You okay with it?"

"I'm going to be fine. No! I am fine, not going to be. I'm good. He does not affect me what-so-ever."

"Sure! Come on, Shaye, it's me, Marcy. You can't-fool me."

"You gals doing okay?" Rosie asks, placing a nearly full glass of Chardonnay on the bar for me. Her arched eyebrows tell me she also knows Justin is back.

"Just fine, Rosie. Thanks." 

Marcy stirs her gin and tonic with a swizzle stick before taking a sip.

I am not fine. I know it, Marcy knows it, and Rosie knows it. The whole damn bar probably knows it. There is no way I will admit it or talk about it. I don't want Justin Tracy back in town. I have a good life without him. I barely think of him anymore. Now I am lying to myself.

"So what are you going to do when you see him?" Marcy asks, shaking her glass, rattling the ice.

"Say hello.”

"That's it! After how he hurt you?”

“Marcy, it was six years ago. He made his choice, and it wasn't me. I'm over it."

Marcy asks Rosie for another drink and points to my wine glass. I shake my head.

"Like hell, you're over it. I was there to hold your hand and put my arms around you when the sobs wouldn't stop. I am the one who has watched you shy away from potential romance after romance because your heart still belongs to Justin Tracy."

She is right. Six years and I still feel the hurt. Why have I never let it go? What will I do when I see him?

"So, my friend, what will you do when you see him?" she nudges me from my thoughts.

"I will be civil. I will say hello and smile."

"Well, you better get ready with that smile now because he just walked in the door." She nods her head towards the image in the wall mirror behind shelves filled with liquor bottles.

I stop a gasp from erupting. There is Justin, all six foot two of him, broad shoulders, blond brush cut, and that warm smile I missed all these years. I watch in the mirror as old friends go over to shake his hand or hug him. The room is filled with friends who know him from our high school days. He is a small-town guy who became an American hero. The story of him saving lives in Afghanistan was on all the Network news shows. A near-death injury during that time made him give up his dream of a military career. He resigned from his commission.

"Hey Rosie, put a beer on my tab for Justin," Jake Malone yells.

I close my eyes, not wanting to see him, wishing I could slip out the door without being noticed.

"Uh, oh!" Marcy whispers. "He's coming over. Should I leave?"

"Good God, no!" I hiss. "Don't you dare move? 

"Marcy! Shaye!" Justin slips his arms around both our shoulders like old times.

I stiffen, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Good to see you both again. Everything going okay?" So Mr. Cool, acting as if he saw us yesterday instead of six years ago. Taking the beer Rosie hands him, he raises the bottle, a toast to her. "Rosie, sweetheart, you don't know how good it is to see you still here being the grand hostess."

"Yeah, Yeah, I hear you."  Rosie motions for him to come to the end of the bar, where she hugs him.

I relax. Well, I don't quite relax, but I stop cringing.

Justin stares at me in the mirror. I quickly look away. He drains the bottle, puts the empty on the bar, taps Marcy and me on the back, waves at his friends, calling out that it is good to be back. The door closes behind him. My breathing slowly comes back to normal.

"He is still handsome and as personable as ever." Marcy nudges me.

"I guess," I mumble, taking the last sip of wine. I slip my purse strap on my shoulder. "I'm ready to go. How about you?"

Marcy grabs her bag from the stool and shakes her head. "No, I'm going to sit with Barb and Jay awhile. I hear Barb's brother is coming home next week. You know I felt something between us the last time he was here." She hugs me. I leave Rosie's and head for my car.

"Shaye!" It is Justin. "I've been waiting for you."

I stop walking, not turning to him. I don't want to see him, and I, I don't want to talk to him, oh crap, I just want his arms around me, holding me, loving me. Damn it, Damn it, Damn it. I am furious at myself.

Putting his hands on my shoulders, he turns me around. "Can we talk?"

"Not now, Justin. Call me some time. I need to get mom's prescription before Dudley closes his pharmacy. She's not feeling well." When had I become such a liar?

"Nothing serious, I hope."

"No." I hurry to my car,  fumbling with my keys, my heart pounding. "Don't look back, don't look back," I repeat to myself, quickly driving away. If I look at him, even for a second, I might get out of the car. I know I can't do that. Not yet. Not ever.

For the next few days, I keep busy showing properties to prospective buyers. My real estate client list is growing. At night, setting up homes for sale on my website keeps me from thinking about Justin, at least from thinking about him too much.

I have an open house on Sunday at one of my more elegant listings. It is a slow day. Not many people have the kind of income to purchase the classic Victorian-style home. It is a contemporary house that borrowed ideas from historic Victorian architecture. It is big, it is stately, and it is expensive.

I try to find things to do between the few lookers who come by. That's all they are, lookers, people who want a glimpse into a style of living not common in our town. Most of those who drop by are old friends.

Late in the afternoon, I start closing down. There hadn't been anyone in two hours—time to call the open house a closing house. As I am ready to walk out the door, Justin is standing there.

"Am I too late to see the house?"

Fighting the desire to either slam the door or rush into his arms, I turn, walking quickly back into the foyer.

"Are you a potential buyer or just a looker?" My voice quivers.

"Buyer. I'm home for good."

I don't want to hear that. I don't want to see him around town. Quickly handing him a brochure with the statistics, I  begin my, 'let me show you these wonderful features' routine. It is a beautiful home, and showing it is always a pleasure. I take sincere potential buyers slowly through each room, describing the highlights. Not this time. I lead Justin through it quickly, speaking only when he asks something.

Standing on the terraced stone deck looking at the carefully designed landscape, he puts his hand on my shoulder. "Shaye, look at me."

Taking a deep breath, I turn and look into those enticing blue eyes. Memories of the times I saw his love for me in them flashes through my mind. The thoughts of our breakup jolt those memories.

As if reading my mind, he says, "Shaye, our breakup was devastating. I could never understand why."

"Okay." I stammer. Turning quickly, I lunge through the open French doors.

"Shaye! Stop! Why didn't you answer any of my phone calls?" He pulls me around. "As soon as I finished the officer's candidate school, I called you. I called again and again. You never answered, and you never returned any of my texts. After months of trying to reach you, I quit. Then when I heard you were engaged to Rick Marson, I knew I wasn't going to get you back."

For a few moments, I thought I hadn't heard him correctly. "You heard I was what?"

"Marrying Rick."

"I never planned on marrying Rick. We dated off and on. It was never serious."

"I know that now but I didn't then. The main reason I never came back after Afghanistan was you.  When Dad and Mom moved to AZ., there was no reason to come back, except you. When you didn't call or answer my calls, I knew I blew it. I was sure you didn't love me anymore, and I didn't want to be here and see you with Rick."

"Why are you back now?"

"It's home. Even if Mom and Dad no longer live here, it's where I grew up. It has good memories. Mostly good memories of us."

I was mellowing. Not answering his calls after the breakup was the dumbest thing I ever did. We broke up because I didn't want to be an Army wife. He said serving his country was important to him. I hurt that it was more important to him than I.

"Shaye. I'm not in the Army anymore. I have a good import business that I work on the Internet. I'm going to settle here for life." Taking my hands into his, he pulls me closer. "Is there any chance I can see you again?  Can we go to dinner, or lunch, or coffee, or get a drink, or anything?"

Looking up into his eyes, seeing the love still there, I could never say no.

"I guess we can do something. Maybe dinner. We can talk more about buying this house."

"Only if it's a house you think you might want to live in with me."

As he pulled me into his arms, I knew Mom was right when she said I was still in love with him. I hadn't fooled her or Marcy even if I tried to fool myself.

 

THE END