Abstract Love Page 18

  Project. There is that word again. The word Brittney and Carly used that night. I try to brush it off for the hundredth time, thinking how I didn’t feel anything like his project Monday night when he was whispering in my ear and getting jealous over Tanner.

  There is a knock on my door at precisely eight o’clock. I make myself get up slowly and take small, hesitant steps towards the door. I don’t want him to know that I’ve been waiting here for an hour, anticipating the day ahead and fantasizing about how it will go.

  He smiles brightly at me when I open the door. His eyes graze over my body and he laughs when he takes in my Jar Jar Binks t-shirt. I shrug and say, “You said casual. Did I overdo it?”

  Jace: Don’t change a thing. It’s perfect! Did you just happen to have that laying around or did you go buy one after our conversation the other night?

  “Oh, I have an entire collection. Maybe I’ll show you someday.” I never thought me being a closet Star Wars fan would come in handy. Tanner teases me all the time about my choice of nerdy t-shirts. And I sometimes make him sit through all six DVDs with me when I’m feeling depressed. Now, I will never look at those movies the same way again. I will never be able to watch them without thinking of Jace.

  Jace: I would very much like to see it, but we have to get going. We have a bit of a drive.

  “Are you going to tell me where we are going or do I have to guess . . . like at chemo?”

  He shakes his head and types out a text.

  Jace: We are going to Best Buy, Toys R Us and Target. Then we’re going to The Angel House, a children’s home in Orlando. Are you ready to have a blast spending some foundation money?

  My eyes go wide. “We are going on a shopping spree? For kids? Are you kidding, it’s like my wildest dream come true! Wait, I thought foundations have staff to just order stuff and have it delivered. Why are we going?”

  Jace: I like to keep personal tabs on foundation business. For the most part, we do a lot of bulk ordering and distributing, but this one, this house is close to my heart and knowing how much you love the kids at Freeway, I thought you might want to share the experience with me.

  “Of course I do. Thank you. Lead the way.” As we go down to his car, the one I drove him home in the other night, all kinds of memories explode in my head. From his hand on my thigh the entire time I drove him home, to his lips on my skin, his fingers on my breast and the ‘I love you’ he whispered in my ear. I push them aside and tell him, “I really enjoyed driving your car. Are you going to let me drive it again today?” I tease.

  Jace: Sure, if you like you can drive home, but I’ll get us there since you don’t know the way.

  “You’d let me drive your car? I mean, when you’re not drunk? Most guys wouldn’t dare risk a silly female driver with their ‘baby’,” I air quote.

  Jace: It’s just a car, Keri. You may drive it whenever you like. On one condition.

  Of course there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. I roll my eyes at him and ask, “What’s that?”

  Jace: You tell me about Tanner. And about Connor, I’m guessing he was another boyfriend? How many have there been, Keri? Or maybe I don’t want to know.

  I was wondering when he was going to ask me about Tanner. “Fine. And it’s a short list, just them and one other. But I’ll expect the same in return.”

  Jace: Deal. Short list, too. Let’s get going. You can tell me in the car.

  I spend the next hour telling him about Tanner and I and the bridge at the train yard. It was under that bridge that he took my virginity. It was an awkward moment and if we hadn’t been such good friends, it might have ended us. Fortunately, we were able to laugh about it. Tanner teases me to this day saying I turned him gay. Jace laughs at that story, but James’ and Connor’s he doesn’t find so amusing.

  James took me in shortly after I left Freeway and would buy me things in exchange for sex. I didn’t know better and when I caught on and stood up for myself, he locked me out. Literally changed the locks saying he had bought everything so it was all his, except for the one small trash bag of things he left on the front porch. I had only recently turned eighteen, and the survivor’s fund hadn’t made its way into my hands with all the red tape so I slept on Tanner’s couch until Connor invited me to stay with him.

  Connor was the one who broke my heart. He said all the right things and made me fall in love with him. But then after I gave Tanner my money from the survivor’s fund, Connor went ballistic. He even slapped me and called me stupid. He threw me out in a rain storm, along with the magazine articles and newspaper clippings he had collected about me. I later found out that he had scammed other women out of money.

  I tell Jace that I swore off men after that. That I decided to become a strong, independent woman who didn’t rely on others for anything. Jace can’t really respond, he just nods his head and smiles at me sweetly. When we stop at a traffic light in Orlando, he can finally text me.

  Jace: Keri, you did become a strong, independent woman. You are incredible and I’m sorry you ever had to deal with assholes like that.

  We finally pull up to our first stop. Best Buy. Jace turns to me with a huge smile on his face and leans over the console to whisper, “Ready?”

  “So, how does this work?” I ask, as we walk into the store. He grabs my hand and pulls me over to the Customer Service counter. It’s a simple gesture and I’m sure he doesn’t mean for it be romantic, but the feel of his large hand encompassing my small one is like being wrapped in a thick, warm blanket on a cold night.

  He hands his business card to the lady behind the counter. She smiles and says, “Mr. Jarrett, we’ve been expecting you. We have a courier on stand-by to deliver your purchases. Please, take your time.”

  I feel him squeeze my hand so I speak for him. “Thank you, we’ll just get started then.”

  Jace smiles at me and walks us over to get a cart. He pushes it around the store as naturally as . . . say a bartender might do it, not a multi-millionaire. I have to laugh when he immediately takes us to the video game section and looks at Star Wars Xbox games. He gives me a wink and then he texts me.

  Jace: This one’s for me. You up for a challenge?

  I can’t help the excitement in my voice when I reply, realizing he is making more plans for us to hang out. “You’re on!”

  Jace: Okay, now for the fun stuff. I know about the guys, but you need to tell me about the girl stuff. Think about what you wish you had when you were at Freeway. Nothing’s off the table. Well, as long as it’s age-appropriate.

  My eyes go wide once again. “Seriously? Are you giving me carte blanche?”

  He nods and laughs at what I can only imagine is a kid-in-a-candy-store look on my face. Then he leans close and whispers to me, “Lead the way.”

  Thirty minutes later we have filled no less than three carts with gaming systems, both console and hand-held, iPods, iPads, e-readers, DVDs, video games and even two laptop computers. I can’t even imagine what the total came to—thousands probably.

  Leaving the store, I’m on a high from the experience and there is still more to come on this extravagant shopping spree. That, along with the knowledge of how the kids will react when they see all this stuff, is one hell of an incredible feeling. I get why he does this. I imagine this is the feeling he got when he bought all those things for the chemo gang.

  The next two stops bring more of the same; walking down aisle after aisle of toys and games and being able to choose any of it—all of it. We filled another five carts at the toy store and four at Target. Jace looked to me for direction, especially for the teenage girls. The electronics and the games are great, but I also selected everyday things such as decorative bed pillows, picture frames, wall hangings and magazines. I also got some flat irons, even though I can’t use them myself due to the smell, but I know most girls really like them. I picked all of the things that make a girl’s room feel like a home, not like a temporary stay at a hotel.

  Jace gives me a
look of awe and adoration.

  Jace: In the five years I’ve run the foundation, no one has ever suggested these things. You have that rare insight, Keri, a connection to these kids that nobody else has. Picture frames and pink fuzzy pillows . . . genius.

  I pick up one of the pink fuzzy pillows and throw it at him.

  After our shopping spree, we stop for lunch. When he pulls into the parking lot of a Burger King, my jaw drops before I shake my head and laugh at him.

  Jace: What? I love Whoppers. And look . . . they are BOGO today!

  He loves Whoppers. I once read about a restaurant in New York City that serves a hundred-dollar cheeseburger. Of course you also get white linen service, a bottle of high-end wine and a dessert. But here sits a man who could get the hundred-dollar burger every day for lunch yet he chooses Burger King—and is excited because of the BOGO special.

  As we sit and eat our Whoppers, enjoying our meal that, combined, came in at under ten dollars, he tells me about his past relationships. Just like he promised he would do. I didn’t even have to ask.

  Jace: I was sixteen when Crystal took my virginity. She was a senior. She was the school slut. She taught me everything about sex. I’m also pretty sure she’s the one who gave me HPV.

  I’ve decided I now hate Crystal. Not only did she take his virginity, but she gave him cancer. I’m wondering how many others I will hate by the time he is finished telling me.

  Jace: The answer is three.

  I look up at him, confused. “What?”

  Jace: Three women. Morgan, Crystal and a girl named Chelsey in college. Three, same as you.

  How does he continue to read my mind like that? I don’t think I want any more information. I already have to deal with visuals of Crystal ‘teaching’ him about sex and of course, Morgan. I don’t need to know about Chelsey as well. But there is something I want to know about. “Has Morgan gotten in touch with you? Do you text her at all?” Embarrassed by asking him this, I play with a french fry instead of looking him in the eye.

  Jace: No, she hasn’t contacted me directly and I don’t text her. But I’ve been questioned by mutual friends about her, about our relationship and about the status of my health.

  I nod at him. “She contacted me again last week. She wanted to see how you were doing.”

  Jace: Did you tell her? You have every right not to talk to her, you know.

  “I know, but she cares about you. If the tables were turned, I’d want to know how you were doing. It’d be horrible to not know.”

  Jace: You would never be in her position, Keri. You care about people too much. You would never turn your back on someone who was sick or in need. It’s one of the qualities that has drawn me to you. You are a giver. And speaking of giving, what do you say we go make the day for a dozen great kids?

  I get the idea he doesn’t want to talk about Morgan anymore. He doesn’t ever want to bring her up around me. I know it’s because he still loves her. I wonder if he still feels guilty for loving her while spending so much time with me. I shake my head in an attempt to rid my brain of all things Morgan. I have to focus on today, on the incredible experience we are about to take part in. “Absolutely!”

  It’s only a short drive to our destination. We pull up to an old, large house, bigger than The Freeway Station, but similar in the way that it looks just like any other residence with the exception of a passenger van in the oversized driveway. As we park at the curb in front of the house, I notice the sign over the main entrance. It is a beautifully painted sign that reads ANGEL HOUSE, adorned with a couple of floating angels on either side. It’s not an abstract, but the tone of the painting is familiar. “Your work?” I ask him, nodding to the sign as we go up the front walk.

  He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. Then he grabs my hand before we reach the front door. He looks in my eyes, silently trying to convey a message to me. His thoughtful stare is scaring me a little. What’s in the house? He is preparing me for something without actually using words. He is imploring me to do this with him. I give him a smile and a nod after our telepathic exchange and he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily before opening the front door.

  The house is quiet even though it’s almost three o’clock and kids of this age should probably be getting home from school. We are greeted by an older lady who pulls Jace into a hug. “Oh, sweet boy, I’m so glad to see you. And who have you brought with you?”

  “Hi, I’m Keri Brookstone,” I say, offering my hand to her.

  She pushes my hand away and wraps her arms around me. “Well, Keri, around here, we hug. It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Gracy Fowler.”

  I instantly like this woman. Then I realize what she said. Finally meet me? “Nice to meet you too, Gracy. What a nice house this is. I’m so excited that Jace has brought me here today to help him out.”

  “Well, we are so glad to have you, dear. Jace tells me you work with kids at a home over in Tampa. It’s so nice to see young people taking an interest in these types of places.”

  “Oh, I more than take an interest. I hope to one day run a place for kids. It’s what I go to college for.”

  Gracy pulls me in for another hug. “Bless you, Keri. If only there were more people like you and Jace in this world.” Her eyes well up with tears. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she says. “If the wind blows in the wrong direction, I’ll cry.”

  She laughs at herself and takes my hand in hers then grabs Jace’s hand and walks us toward the back porch. On the way, we pass by a large living area with three couches, some beanbag chairs, a television and a PlayStation console that looks long outdated. I smile knowing what is about to get delivered to the house in just an hour or so. Then I stop in my tracks, jerking back both Gracy and Jace so that they look at me with questioning eyes.

  Hanging on the wall of the living room is a picture of me. I release Gracy’s hand and walk slowly over to it. This one is different from the paintings he’s done lately. It’s clearly me, but not the me of today, not the me he knows so well and captures in his paintings. On either side of my yellow hair, up in the sky are two angels. I turn to him with an inquisitive look.

  Jace: Your guardian angels.

  I look back up and study the painting. It hits me that the angels are different, one is male and one is female. My parents. But how? I step closer and look at the date in the corner of the painting. It was dated a few years after my parents died. He painted this over five years ago. I look over at him in disbelief.

  Jace: I told you. You were my inspiration. And there wasn’t a place in the world more fitting to hang it than in this very house. Come, you’ll see.

  We walk out on the back porch to see children playing in the massive back yard. There is a swing set far off in the corner. There’s a volleyball net, an old basketball hoop—I smile knowing a new one is on the way—some outdoor furniture and some odd toys strewn about. The children are running around and playing with each other, interacting just as if this were a family gathering, not an orphanage or children’s home. Some of the kids hear the back door slam shut and come running. That’s when I see it. That’s when I know why this house exists. That’s when my heart breaks and swells at the very same time. Children of different ages are running towards us and shouting out Jace’s name like he is Santa Claus on Christmas Day—well, he kind of is. Children, who all have brilliant smiles on their faces despite the fact that they all have varying degrees of burns covering their faces, necks, arms and legs. Children that Jace pulls into hugs, planting kisses on their burned and disfigured faces just as if they were his own flesh and blood.

  I fight back the tears that threaten to fall knowing that these children do not want my pity. And as I continue to watch Jace greet every one of them as if each one is his favorite person in the entire world, the wall around my heart crumbles and I’m certain I won’t be able to build it back up.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Gracy introduces me to all of the children once a few stragglers
come down from upstairs. They range in age from eight to sixteen years old. While Jace is still saying hello, she takes me to the side and explains things to me when she sees that I’m clearly surprised and that Jace had obviously not prepared me. I learn that all of these children were orphaned by fires in which their parents died. Just like me. Only these kids did not come away physically unscathed like I did. I glance over Gracy’s shoulder as she gives me the history of the house. I see that the burns on the children range from simply covering part of an arm or leg, all the way up to severe disfiguration. The worst being a young girl who has lost some of her hair, and half of her face is distorted with severe scarring.

  Gracy must see me staring at the little girl. “That’s Lilly, she is ten. She lost her parents late last year. She will be having reconstructive surgery soon, thanks to Jace’s foundation.”

  “Has Jace told you why he wanted to bring me here?” I question her.

  “No, dear, he hasn’t. All I know is that he met a wonderful woman who works with children at a home in Tampa. You know Jace, he doesn’t like to tell other people’s stories. That man was sent straight from heaven, you know.”