Background
Thirty something, Jameson, meets seventy something, Iris. They meet for coffee. This is the story of their unlikely friendship.
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This is a story written in dual first person points of view. Each character will be given their own chapter. It will be marked at the beginning of each chapter to identify who is narrating.
So far, thirty something, Jameson Petry meets seventy something , Iris. They start meeting on a regular basis for coffee. She has just advised him to get a lawyer to protect his rights as a father. Then admitted that she would like for him to be her emergency contact as she faces the final stage of heart failure.
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JAMESON
Even before Iris said anything about her health, I noticed how winded she was. Just sitting at the cafe table, she moved slower than before. I walked her to her car, making sure we stopped several times. I knelt down to tie my shoes letting her pause and rest. Then I asked if she minded waiting on the bench in front of the pharmacy while I made an important work call. I called the local theater and listened to the show times of eight out of ten movies. Once I could see she had caught her breath, I ended my fake business call.
She's a proud woman, and though I doubt she would turn down my help, it would kill her to admit she needed it.
I finished one of my jobs, submitted it for payment and flopped back on the couch. Heston lay his big head on my thigh. "I know, Hessy. You want to walk, don't you?" I look into his eyes. If I didn't have him, I'd probably lose my mind. If he only knew, I need him much more than he needs me, he'd demand his walk. But he waits patiently, knowing the walk always depends on me.
"Let's go," I say, pushing as much excitement into my voice as I can muster.
Walking keeps both Heston and me sane. These walks have done wonders for us both. It gives me time to think. A walking think is more productive than a wallowing think. Maybe it's the motion and exercise that let's your mind see solutions. I was wallowing before. Trapped in an empty house, with memories and imaginary scenarios that stood like a house of cards. If I breathed wrong, my house would come down. Heston doesn't rush the door when I go to open it anymore.
And Iris, of course, was right. The walk during the day, seems to satisfy Heston's curiosity. He has become used to seeing people and things going on. The night time walks settle both of us.
I hook the rainbow leash to his collar, grab my keys and phone, and head out the door.
And Iris was right about protecting my time with Finny. But, I need to give it one final shot with Claire before I make that move.
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Claire answers on the second ring. "Hey, Jameson, I'm getting ready for bed. What's up?"
"I need an answer, Claire. Are we through?"
She makes a little grunting noise. "I don't have an answer for you. I told you I need more time."
"I've given you time. Plenty of time. I can't go on like this anymore. I need to be able to see Finny. I need a schedule, Fin needs a schedule."
"I'm not doing this right now, Jameson." She sounds like she's going to cry. But I've known Claire long enough to know she can cry on command.
"Fine. I'm just letting you know I'm getting a lawyer."
"What? Are you fricking kidding me? I just need a little more time."
There is pleading in her voice, and I fight the guilt that is building up inside of me. Maybe my declaration has snuffed out any chance we might have had, but I can't go on clinging to a lie.
Her voice catches as she tries to speak. "You're just giving up then?"
"I'll never be what you want. And I can't try to be anyone else."
"I just wanted you to be a strong role model for Finny. If he sees you working on a crappy computer, never trying to better yourself, he's going to think it's okay."
"Claire, that's utter bullshit. My dad drove a bus for twenty-eight years. We never had extra money. Never went on lavish vacations. He was a good man. I hope I'm half the man he was. When it's all said and done, Fin won't care if he doesn't have a bunch of material things. He just needs two good parents."
She sniffles and tries to catch her breath. "I wish that was true."
"It is. The trouble with you has always been you want to live a fairy-tale life. It doesn't work."
"Oh, why are you hitting me with this now?"
"Because, since you won't make a decision, I have to."
She's crying now. I bite my tongue before I start backtracking and apologizing. God, I didn't want this.
She's crying and calling me all kinds of horrid names. That's when a thought hits me. She never cared that she hurt me. Didn't feel bad when she drove off with my son, while tears rolled down my cheeks.
Claire is doing what she does best. She is becoming the victim. Now, I'm the bad guy. It's not a role I want, but it's better than the role of the fool.
