Fever Dream Pt. 03

"No...uh, I'll call at least once a day, when I can. Jack...also doesn't know about John, and I want that to keep too, until I'm ready for them to meet."

"I know you want to drop it, and we will, but honestly, Stella...he is gonna be so stoked to have a new uncle around."

"...yeah...I know, well look...I can't thank you enough for being so amazing about all of this. Seriously, once this is all figured out and settled, John and I will take you all out to the most expensive place in town, your choice, my treat, and 'no' is not an option."

"Haha...ok Ms. Moneybags, you got it...and I'm ordering the good stuff on the wine list, just so you know...something red, from before we were born, and from a place I can't pronounce."

That last one made them both laugh out loud. Afterwards, they shouted out "GET THAT MONEY!" their mantra, simultaneously, before saying goodbye and hanging up.

With the call ended, she tossed her phone unto her desk and continued to stare out the window of her office. She worked for the investment firm which had been handling her family's estate and money since they first founded and established the city. It was the tallest building downtown, and as the youngest senior partner in the firm's centuries old history, her office was on the second tallest story...right underneath the floor for the name partners. Sure, there had been plenty of rumors and talk of exactly how she climbed the ladder so fast, but the truth was, it was because she was just that good. She graduated Suma Cum Laude from State, and had gotten not one, but two master's degrees in quick succession right after, one in finance and one in economics. Because of her family name, she was offered mid-level management right away, but she insisted starting at the bottom. In just two years' time her unique style, as well an excruciating attention to detail, and finally due in no small part to her uncanny ability to make the right picks, which gave the highest possible returns, even during the recent recession, she was put on the fast track, breaking the glass-ceiling and about to be 'formally' offered name partner. She had been told just 6 months ago about the decision by the board, and in just over 45 days, it would by officially announced. Her name would grace the building, and the future of the firm long after she was gone.

Her keen skills and near flawless choices in the markets also meant that, when she insisted to be given control of her family's accounts, she more than doubled their value, which was already substantial. Her family already never had to worry about finances, but now even her grandchildren wouldn't have to either. She kept all of this progress in the Carter fortune a secret from her family as well. She planned on telling them eventually, but now...now she wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Her life had been very singular. She devoted her entire existence to two things: work, and being a mother, and not in that order. As far as she was concerned, until last night, she would work until she couldn't, then spend the rest of her twilight years being a mother and a grandmother, and she was fine with that. That was before he came back. She stood in front of the long, almost seamless window down onto the busy streets below. Endless streams of cars, busses, taxis, walking people...women. Women either going to or coming from their everyday jobs to their loved ones. Their boyfriends. Their husbands. When she was 17, she assumed she and Jack would be living somewhere else, somewhere far away. That whatever they chose to do with their lives professionally, every night she would go to him. She would take care of him. She would feed him, clean up after him. Please him and have him do the same for her. They would fall asleep in each other's arms every night...forever.

Then, when life decided that the best laid plans were not in the cards for her, she had resigned herself to a life of working hard and being the best mother, to the best son, she could be. It took her a few years to stop crying over it sometimes, but she was in a place of relative balance. Almost a pleasant sleep walk through life. Make money, love John. Make money, love John. She had thought she was in a good place. But right now, as she stood here watching the rest of the world leave the ones they love to work and return to the ones they love after a night of separation, a new feeling came over her. Hope. She shouldn't have been feeling it. He abandoned her, and threw their love away, but here he was...back in her life, and if he was to be believed, for good. When she boiled it all down; His mysterious disappearance, his cataclysmic return, all of the questions left unanswered and the sins and wrongs unatoned for, she had only two real choices. She could choose safety in monotony. She could cleave unto her boy, and the rest of the family that had not left her, and after a small adjustment period go back to living her life the way she had been. She could tell him it was too late, that the cut he'd made was just too deep. He would leave, if she asked him to, she knew it.

Just as she finished this thought, and the tears had started coming, a smile, completely out of her control, crept on her face, and an unavoidable conclusion came to her. There was no way on this earth that she would, or could, choose that now. As she closed her eyes to try to process, the only things her mind could conjure were images; his eyes, his lips, his hair, a young man consoling a bully, a squeezed hand under a secret blanket, a steady hand guiding her into a bubbling hot tub, easing her fears and showing her what true love felt like. As this last image flashed across her mind, her eyes opened and she found that she was smiling from ear to ear, and that she couldn't stop tears from running down her face. She wanted to sob, and laugh, but her body, or mind, couldn't figure out which one to do. He was going fix it. She knew he would, that he could. He was home now, he had come back to her and he was going to make everything right again.

It makes total sense that he would need to find the strength to tell me...whatever it is he has to tell me, whatever the reason was. It has to be good. I KNEW he couldn't just leave me. Something happened to him. Something bad. Something that scared him maybe? Something that was so bad that he didn't feel he could tell anyone, even...me. But what could be that bad...that he wouldn't tell me? Unless he somehow knew that...what if he found out about what happened? What if he thinks I'm...damaged now...dirty... tainted.

Suddenly her hope seemed dashed on the rocks as she was racked with a sudden burst of self-doubt and paranoia. Upon deeper introspection, she came to the conclusion that she really had no idea why he had left, and that neither the especially positive or dreadfully negative seemed to fit in this puzzle. Whatever the reason, she had to choose either to doubt him until proven good or hope until proven bad. Her smile returned gradually, and she realized that, since she had no idea who he had become over the last ten years, that it had to be possible that the Jackson she loved was still there, just barely below the surface. He just needed her to believe in him. The anger wasn't gone exactly, or the resentment, but she had, at the very least, an equal measure of hope and belief in him that if she could find a balance between these and the anger, she could protect herself, while still giving them both a chance to find their way out of it, happy, healthy, and in love on the other side.

She turned to her monitors, all of which were showing indexes, figures, markets, percentages, and financial news. Normally she enjoyed watching them, formulating things in her mind, finding the right places, but as she looked at them, all of a sudden, she didn't understand a single thing happening on them. Everything might as well have been in Russian. In that moment, she had an impulsive idea. Normally, she wasn't prone to impulsivity, at least not in a long time. She needed to not be there. Not right then. Not for...the imminent future. A leave of absence. Yes! That was what she needed. If everything she hoped for were going to even be possible, she needed to be wherever Jackson was, and this place wasn't it. She walked over to her desk and pushed the intercom.

"Donna, I need you please."

"Yes, Ms. Carter!"

Only a second after she answered, a tall, thin black woman entered.

"Donna, write out a memorandum for me. Send it to the name partner's...for a leave of absence, duration: Until further notice."

"Yes...Ms. Carter...a leave of absence?" she asked, with a look that was clearly incredulity.

Stella turned around, her eyes were still filled with tears, and the smile that invaded her face was still unwilling to leave it.

"Yes, Donna...he's come back to me, and I need to be someplace else...someplace that's not here. I need it done like...as fast as you humanly can. Also, once I walk out of here, call ahead to Mr. Jenkins office...tell them I'm on my way up, and we are not to be disturbed."

"...uh...yes, Ms. Carter, right away." Donna answered, clearly having no idea who 'he' was, but having no confusion about the other instructions.

With that, Stella grabbed her phone and was out towards the elevators to the top floor, to see the 'top dog.' Walking through the immaculately decorated halls, lined with office after office walled by semi-frosted glass, people smiled and greeted her, but their words, and faces, became a haze. At one point, a fellow senior put a hand out, a gesture to get her to halt and listen, but she merely smiled and walked right past him. Normally she would work the halls at least once a day, delegating her staff and gaining up to the minute input, listening to jokes, talking about the weekend, and of course, enduring the eyes of the men. It was never her intention to cause distraction, but if she was expected to try to look less feminine just to be taken seriously, she would always reject it. Even if it had never been for anyone's benefit or enjoyment, she enjoyed looking sexy, and isn't that all that really mattered?

The rhythm of life just happened to get her to the elevators just as they opened, going up. Alone, she punched the top button, and waited the short distance between the 'senior partners and staff' floor and the name partners floor. The doors opened, and she walked the length of the floor, to the very last, and grandest, office in the firm, where a small, old woman sat at a desk, sitting her usual guard.

"Ahh yes, Ms. Carter...I just got off the phone with Donna. I'm afraid Mr. Jenkins doesn't wish to be disturbed this afternoon."

"I know Mondays are nap day Noelle, but I need to talk to him, it's personal."

"All due respect Ms. Carter, but that is a very disrespectful accusation to-"

"Noelle...what did you do with my favorite blanket...the merino one?" an obviously annoyed voice crackled over an intercom from Noelle's phone.

"It's literally where I put it every day John. Right behind your napping couch. Stella needs to talk to you dear, says its personal."

"Damnit Noelle, why didn't you tell me she was waiting!?"

"Don't you 'Damnit' me Johnathan! You're the one that has a secret nap day no one's supposed to know about and yack's about it over the damn loudspeaker!"

"HEY! You can't talk to me like that at work, I'm your damn boss!"

"You're making a scene in front of Stella, Johnathan!"

"Well!! Send her in for God's sake...and since when do you call me 'Johnathan'? Are you Mother? Am I in some kind of Trouble? No! And I'll tell Mother the next time I go out to see her if you don't stop calling me that!"

"Oh, so I suppose a stone in the ground is going to turn me on her knee, is she? For heaven's sake...go on in Stella, it seems the jig is up anyway...and give him a hard knock on the damn head for me...35 years, I don't know why I put up with it..."

Noelle's rambling went on, but Stella had already entered John Jenkins office, and closed the door behind her.

She stepped into the almost palatial sized office with trepidation. The mahogany crown moldings, the green walls, the ornate turn of the century furnishings and open windows of the penthouse office usually filled her with calm and comfort. Today was not going to go how it should have gone just a day ago. The uncertainty of her steps betrayed her attempt to be her usually cool self to the aged, yet tall man before her. John was late in his life, but through a personality firmly entrenched in discipline on the mind and body, and a lifelong regimen to both, he was the most handsome man of his age she had ever seen. With the added features of a gentle disposition, a warm smile and impeccable taste in suits further enhanced his aesthetic.

"You're as white as a sheet, dearest. What's happened? What is this memo all about?" he asked, holding the memo she'd sent out aloft.

She needed to keep it together. She tried to will her body and face to cooperate, fixing them into the serene, passive mask and gait she put on at work. Her mental effort was futile however. Jacksons return was sapping her of her faculties. She had to exert more control over her mind than usual just to keep from obsessing about him. If he'd woken up yet. If he had seen the meal she'd prepared for him. If he was wondering where she was. If he was obsessing about her as well, right at this moment.

"Stella, you're worrying me, dear. Please tell me what's troubling you so?" John said, gliding to her side in an instant, breaking her out of her obsession.

"I'm sorry, John. My mind is racing today. I don't really know what to think right now. How I'm feeling...I-I'm lost..." she sputtered out, tears starting to brim in her eyes.

John could see her starting to fray at the seams and was suddenly very nervous himself. He'd never seen her like this. Could their upcoming dinner tonight be this distressing to her?

"Stella...I'm sorry. I should never have entered into this territory with you. It was selfish and vain of me, and a violation of the trust you've put in me for so many years. I-" He trailed, seeing the confusion in her face now.

"What are you-oh, no, no, no! John, no!" She placated, placing her hand on his and finally finding strength to smile. "No, it's not about that...well, maybe it is, but you have done nothing wrong." She said, in answer to his backpedaling, remembering what tonight was supposed to be.

It was only 3 months ago that after a decade of being her mentor, confidant, and best friend he confided growing romantic feelings towards her. Even after her assurances that she had no interest or even the emotional ability to date anyone or be romantically involved, he reassured her of his unique proposal. Over a candlelight dinner, he confessed just how much he admired her, every part of her, inside and out. He had unwittingly fallen in love with her somewhere along the way and even though he was just turning 60 years old and the more intimate parts of being in a relationship were not what he was asking for, and after his multiple assurances that he fully understood what her limitations were in that area, he offered for them to be lifelong companions. Confidants, Best friends. He simply wanted someone he cared for to come home to every day. Someone to share his joys and regrets. Someone to hold his hand during the opera, to hold him when he felt down, someone to kiss his cheek and make him feel loved. He wanted to belong to someone, in whatever way they would have him, and he wanted it to be someone he loved in return. Someone he wanted to love and protect, to be all of the things he needed from her, right back. He wanted to marry her.

At first, she had been floored and at a total loss for words. He asked her to simply think on it and try to be open to giving it a try. After a few days, she agreed to spend more one on one time with him. More candlelight dinners. Plays. Walks in the park. He was always patient, understanding, and consistent. Over time, she realized that it wasn't actually the worst idea. She realized that while not romantically so, she did indeed love John very much. She trusted him above all others, even the rest of her family. She began really enjoying their time together. She found herself kissing him on the cheek frequently, holding his warm hand often, and warming up to the idea of a companion. He and her son got along well, and at times, if she disregarded his age, she realized he was still a very handsome man. He seemed genuine in his assurance that he would never press the issue of sex, even saying they could sleep in separate beds, or even separate rooms after being married, and he wouldn't judge her or resent her one iota.

The painful part of where she found herself in that very moment was that until last night, she had decided to say yes to him. She was going to marry him and try her best, in whatever way she was able, to make him happy, for the rest of his days. She hadn't confided in anyone, even him, that she had decided. Tonight's dinner was to be her surprise acceptance. She was looking forward to having a partner in her life. Not the partner she had desired since she knew how to desire, but since she had given up on that partner ever returning to her life, John would be more of a substitute then she could have ever hoped for.

But her desired partner did return last night, and now she had to break the heart of one of the greatest men she'd ever known.

"John, I know that I've thrown you for a loop right now, and there must be a thousand questions in your mind, waiting to come out, but can I ask a small favor?" she asked, using a well-rehearsed, even tone.

"Of course, my dear..." he answered, trying not to sound defeated, and slightly failing, his voice trembling. The sound didn't escape Stella, and her eyes brimmed again with moisture at the thought of what must come.

"Try not to get ahead of yourself, or me, and just listen to everything I have to say, and please don't jump to any conclusions. So much has happened and I don't know if I can get through it all if you..." she started, failing at the end for fear of her voice giving out. As nervous and deflated as John felt with what he thought was coming, he couldn't bear to see her in pain.

"Of course, Stella. You can confide anything in me...even if you're scared to hurt me. Know that nothing can make me cross with you. I am always here for you." He said, his voice and intent full of meaning.

At this, she found some semblance of strength. She knew, even if it hurt him, that he would accept anything she said with the utmost respect and grace. He always had. It was what she genuinely loved about him most.

"I want you to know that I love you...very much, John." She started. "...and that I was going to meet you for dinner and say yes. That I would be honored to be your wife, John." She took a breath to steady her breathing, which had started to become staccato through the tears that now outright refused to stay in. She shot her eyes up to his face for only a second, but she saw the pain the word 'was' caused him.

"I see..." he answered in a quiet voice, so near a whisper. He couldn't seem to bring his eyes level with hers.

"Oh, John please. Please wait 'til I'm done. Please!" she begged, suddenly gripping his arm tightly, panic in her voice now unmistakable. This caused him to look at her with genuine concern. He had known her for a long time and had only ever seen her betray this level of emotion once.

"Of course, my dear. Don't worry. Take your time and get it all out." He said in the closest to a soothing voice he could, gently taking one of her hands and giving her an encouraging squeeze, and she continued.