#((chapter complete!))

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“You’re home!” Lou yelled as she bombed through the door of Maria’s suburban townhouse. “What? You’re early! You said closer to Christmas. What happened?”

“Eh,” Maria stalled. There was always a turning point as a relationship deepened and you no longer told your sister absolutely every last thing about a guy. Maria was torn between wanting to respect Jordan’s privacy and the natural urge to seek advice from her big sister—it was a bit of a lonely place to be. “Surprise! We’re back early, we wanted it to be a surprise.”

But Maria would always be Lou’s baby sister, so Lou swept her up off the ground in a bear hug. Even though, to be honest, Maria was probably the heavier of the two as full grown women now. Lou liked the gym, and Maria liked pancakes. 

“Me, me!” Johanna shrieked. 

Lou did try, but stooped low to squeeze her beloved niece instead. “Next time, monkey. I think I just threw out my back a little.”

“So where is this elusive boyfriend of yours?”

“Not here,” Maria said. “Hell be back soon. He’s seeing his boys. It’s been a while.” 

Jordan felt bad for dropping them at the house and leaving them alone so quickly, but at least Maria’s townhome wasn’t an unfamiliar place. Even if some spiders moved in during the months they’d been away. There was no food inside since they’d been gone for two months. And he stranded them without a car. “Can you call Lou?”

So that was what she did, and Lou brought takeout for dinner.

“How long are you guys here?”

“I don’t know,” Maria answered.

“A week, a month? More months?”

“Lou, I don’t know anything right now. I don’t think he knows, either.”

That was wrong—he knew. He said they were staying for good. Final answer. He was going to file for joint custody, fifty-fifty. You couldn’t be much of a nomad when you were tied to Milwaukee, Wisconsin for half of your life. But could he really give it all up? That was what Maria didn’t know. 

On the bright side, Maria dearly missed her stupid butt of a sister, who also lived in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She felt a little guilty for being so happy to be home.  

“You’re gonna help clear out the spiders for me. I saw a giant one in the upstairs shower.”

A couple hours later, Jordan dropped off his boys and returned to what was now his new home. Maria added him to the lease, and he lived here now. It felt odd. How funny to think all those months ago, he would sneak up these stairs after JoJo was asleep for their first sleepovers. Here he was again, sneaking up the stairs trying not to wake JoJo. He didn’t have a key yet. But the door was unlocked, and Maria sat in the dining room talking quietly with her sister. He joined them.

Lou looked at him suspiciously. “It’s funny, all the times I’ve seen you before, I had to pretend like my sister didn’t have the hugest, most embarrassing crush on you. Cat’s out of the bag now huh?” 

“Your sister is the least embarrassing thing about my life,” Jordan said.

“Okay. I'll buy that,” Lou said, which felt like a compliment and an insult all at once. “But I guess I better head out. Watch Mom and Dad come over to visit tomorrow. You’ll need to rest up for that.”

They did as Lou suggested and took themselves straight to bed. It had been a long few days, heavy with emotions, and heavy also with the physical labor of moving back across the country at breakneck speed. Maria climbed onto the bed first, and Jordan laughed as he flopped down over her lap. 

“What’s funny?” 

“We ended up right back where we started,” he said.

“Well, sometimes it happens like that. I’m happy you’re here.” She smiled. “So, how did it go?”

He let out a heavy sigh, feeling so much. “The boys? Or?” 

“All of it.”

“We had fun,” he said. “The new skate park by the harbor is really nice. A lot was closed for the snow, but we had fun.”

“And…”

She meant, how did it go with Colette. Maria knew everything now, so there was no point trying to hide that seeing her tonight, after that phone call, after so many months, must have been a big deal. 

“She apologized,” he said. “She said she didn’t mean it. She said sorry.”

“Oh. And how do you feel about that?”

“Heh, you’re going to get so sick of me telling you things.”

Maria shook her head. “Tell me.”

“Mad?” he said, unsure. “Like she can just erase that she was a monster to me for ten years with one sorry, like none of it ever happened? It made me mad.”

“That sounds fair,” Maria said. “Forgiveness takes time. If you even want to forgive her, that is.”

“I don’t know. If she’s really trying to be a better person, maybe she deserves a chance. I have to deal with her either way for the next nine years. She’d have a lot of work to do, but, I don’t know…”  

He’d done most of the driving today and then went straight out with his boys. He was tired, his voice already drifting off. She stroked his hair and he was a goner. This conversation was paused for now. 

She loved that he talked to her now, but she felt out of her depths. She wondered if he needed better advice than she knew how to give. She hoped she wasn’t doing it wrong.  

She laid beside him and he fell asleep deeply in the safety of her arms.

This monster of a woman was part of his life forever, and she still had her claws deep under his skin, which meant she was part of Maria’s life now too, like it or not. For the next nine years, at least. Colette could snap him in half if she wanted to, and Maria hated her for that.

Meanwhile, across town, Colette had Milo’s phone. The thing was, you really had to check the kids’ phones these days, at their age, if you wanted to be any sort of responsible parent. Milo’s phone was foul—cheetos fingerprints on the screen protector, which was scratched to pieces, dust in all the ports. She loathed to touch it, but you had to check to see how much money they were spending on app games, or who they were talking to on social media. 

Milo only had five friends on here. Mom, Dad, Felix, Zachary Harris from school, and Maria?

Maria. Maria from work? Maria, the tutor at the arts center? Maria who made the best grilled cheese and whose giggles sounded like music? Maria with the ruby red lips and Jordan’s mouth all over her skin in these photos she posted last week, Maria is with Jordan Graham at Tartosa Beach, California, 4 photos.

Her name is Maria and you don’t know her.

Colette was hearing a whole lot about this woman she didn’t know lately. Maybe it was time they made an official introduction.

Before Maria could sleep too, she heard a ping on her phone. 

She checked it. An unknown number, but there was no question who this was. 

You might be fucking him now, but he knows I’m right. I’m always right. The boys know I’m right. It’ll be easier for us all if you learn that, too. 

Maria mouth hung agape. “That bitch!”

Colette knew she had to do better for her family, the ones who deserved her love and patience and understanding. There may come a day when her civility grows bigger than that, but it’s not going to be today. 

— boxes and squares #5.6: fuck you, thank you, part 3/3

It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem, it’s me…

next -> // 5.6 start // index

chapter complete! book 5 complete! new chapters coming this fall!

notes: I always think of Joe Goldberg when I hear that song, but lately I feel like it belongs to Colette a little, too.

"I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror." <- Yes, Miss Swift! Yes! 🔥

Stay tuned for some outtakes and extras on Sunday.

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He woke again at some point in the night. His throat was dry. Maria had fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around and tucked underneath him like she worried he might sneak out into the night and disappear again. When he moved her, she startled awake. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

He wasn’t going anywhere. He just needed a glass of water. Oh, sweet Maria. He had traumatized everyone tonight, it seemed.

“I’m just getting some water. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry. You can go back to sleep.” 

He got up, got the glass of water, and sat down in the dark living room of their camper lit only by the red glow of embers in the wood stove. This was their first home together, and they had made this place so cozy. It was also the first real home he’d had since he lost his dad’s place all those years ago. Now where would they put it? Maria’s townhome didn’t even have a parking spot for a car, she had to park hers on the street. They’d need to rent a space for it somewhere. The idea of selling it was heartbreaking. He would do what they needed to do, if it came to that, but Maria had already vetoed that idea. 

“No, we’re not selling it,” she decided. “You would regret that until the end of your days.”

And he was quite okay with letting her make that decision for them. He considered this camper half hers now. Maybe he got this ragged old thing running again, but she made it into a home.  

He just needed to take another minute here before it was all over. It would all be okay. He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but he would make it true, one way or another. He was still thinking. He felt slaughtered and hollow, but resolute about what needed to happen next.

The mountains have been there for millions of years, and they’ll still be there tomorrow, next year, even if it takes ten years. If he got that long. Not everybody does, and that’s not fair. Plenty of people die young with a life of unfulfilled dreams. He thought of his mom and everything she must have wanted to do with the time she didn’t get. He thought of his dad, too. And maybe nobody gets to do everything they want. You can only do what’s important while you have the chance. Sometimes one important thing trumps another. Sometimes life is just not fair and it’s nobody’s fault and there’s nothing you can do about it.

He tried to sleep for another couple of hours, but he felt restless as the morning came. He wanted one last sunrise on the rocks. He told Maria first where he was going. He made sure she was awake and wouldn’t worry. He took his phone and made sure it was charged. The climb was just a simple rock scramble on the edge of the campground, and the view was as impressive as he hoped it would be. But the great thing about sunrises is that they happen everywhere. Sunrise over Lake Michigan is probably pretty spectacular, too. 

When he came down from the rocks, Maria had most of the campsite ready to go. She wanted nothing to do with emptying the toilet tanks, but she’d gotten pretty efficient at packing up to roll out. 

“JoJo, don’t get sand everywhere before it’s time to get on the road.”

There hadn’t been much time to explain to JoJo that they were going back to Wisconsin for good. She had grown used to the packing and moving to somewhere new. She was a wild, feral child and she loved living like this. She would be almost as disappointed to leave it all behind as Jordan was, but it hadn’t sunk in for her yet. And it probably wouldn’t until they got back home to the old townhouse. 

The adventure would have to pause for a little while, or take a different shape. But it wasn’t a silly idea. It was real and it was working, and Maria would miss this, too. Maybe not as much as he would, not as much as JoJo would, but she would miss it all the same.

“It was fun. It wasn’t a mistake,” she said. “I’m glad you brought us out here.”

She hugged him, but he smothered her instead. 

“I love you so much,” he cried into her neck. 

And Maria felt that in her bones. That was everything she ever wanted. Who would have thought, all those months ago, standing on her front porch and saying goodbye, that someday she would be the one getting everything she once wanted while he gave it all up? It didn’t feel good to be the one winning. It wouldn’t count unless he could be happy, too. Please.

“It will be beautiful,” she said. “It will be so good, even if it’s not the life you hoped for. It will be worth it, I promise.” 

He nodded, feeling little faith in his own instincts, so he would trust hers instead. They were ready to start the drive.

JoJo had gotten herself thoroughly sandy before it was time to get on the road.

— boxes and squares #5.5: kill the fairytale, part 6/6

next -> // 5.5 start // index

notes: #5.5 complete! Did it turn out the way you thought it would? I suspect some of you thought he was gonna run! Well, he did consider it for a hot minute.

#5.6 is coming up next to wrap up book 5, but it's very short. 2-3 parts. I may end up having to put some of that in the queue. Hope Tumblr doesn't fail me! (My drafts keep disappearing, and my queued posts fail to actually post half the time!)

pose credits: free hugs, by rebouks

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Colette thought she might take the boys on a boat tour, but there wasn’t one here. She wondered if there was scuba diving—not here, either. Beachcombing tour? Nope. At a loss for what to do with their day, she grabbed a coffee and sat to browse the attractions that were available, while the boys played on the playground. 

Yes, it would seem, they traveled eight-thousand miles to play on playgrounds after all.

If nothing else, her medicine was starting to work and she felt fifty percent better already. She intended to enjoy the remainder of this trip as much as that was possible. 

When they were traveling, the boys always took an interest in tracking time zones. “It’s dinnertime in America. Can I call Dad? I wonder if he even knows it’s Thanksgiving?”

Oh, Thanksgiving.

Colette had been trying to forget about it. But it would be rotten not to allow them to call their dad on Thanksgiving, wouldn’t it? As much as Jordan might claim otherwise, Colette was not rotten to her core—not all the way to her core, anyway.

“Can you keep it very short, please? International phone calls are very expensive. Share one call.” 

They took Milo’s phone and ran off to call their dad. 

Colette’s sigh was heavy as the price of international data rates.

It wasn’t a total surprise that she took the boys somewhere for Thanksgiving. It was something of a tradition at this point. They usually went somewhere expensive and luxurious. Disney was a favorite for the boys. Colette preferred Paris, where some of her cousins lived. New York City, Toronto, Cancun.

And he wasn’t jealous that she never invited him to join them. He would have been bored by the kind of trip Colette enjoyed. They all went together once. He and Colette bickered almost the whole time and she ordered him around like staff—get me a cocktail, carry these bags, fetch me an umbrella, this sun is too hot—while she sunned herself on the beach, and to be honest, he thought it was very boring.

But still, the call ended, and Jordan felt like the world was cracked in half and upside down.

With the Phoenix house as packed as it was tonight, his quiet space in the hallway wouldn’t remain quiet for long. Maria found him first. “How are they?” But when she saw his face, her smile dropped. “Oh, what happened?”

Before he could answer, a swarm of boys ran through the hallway and out the back door, their voices booming with merriment and boyish gusto. Not his boys. 

“What did she say?” 

This time? It was more like what she did. “Uh, she took the boys to Tomorang.”

“In Thailand? Can she do that?”

Jordan laughed at himself; he felt so stupid. “We don’t have an official custody order in place. She can do pretty much whatever she wants.” 

“Oh,” Maria muttered. 

He didn’t really want to talk about it. He was mad, but did he have any right to be? Maria watched him quietly, the feelings brewing over, the frustration, the shame, the anger. Colette always took the boys somewhere for Thanksgiving, but this year felt different. This felt deliberate. She flew right over them. He might have looked up and spotted their plane in the sky.

She took the boys to Thailand and she wouldn’t let them travel four states away to visit their father for a weekend?

“I guess she probably thinks this is fair. She let me take them to Canada last summer. Which is out of the country, too, technically. But… They flew right over us. They connected in L.A. They could have connected in San Sequoia instead. Or hell, I would have hopped on a train if I knew. I could have met them at the airport. I could have seen them for a minute.”

“I’m so sorry,” Maria whispered, looking at a loss. “What can we do?”

He didn’t want to talk about it. Not here, not with the voices of togetherness and festivity echoing from the other room, glasses clinking, laughter echoing. He wanted to get out of here, to be honest. He didn’t feel very festive anymore.

Then Jack found them in the hallway, too. There were two dozen people in this house and he wouldn't be the last.

“It’s okay, really. I’ll see them in Wisconsin in a few weeks, anyway. That’s no time at all.”

It was too much time already. 

“Hey,” Jack said. “You guys alright?”

Jordan was barely comfortable letting Maria into his thoughts—it was a work in progress. But new friends meant more people who cared about him, which meant more people who wanted to dig into his shrouded brain and decipher all the tangled mess that lay inside. You don’t want it, Jordan wanted to tell him.

But Jack still glanced between them, looking concerned. One thing Jack could know was this: it was not Maria that troubled him. Jordan would write that much on his forehead in bold marker. Maria was the only uncomplicated thing that ever graced his life. 

“We’re great,” Jordan said. “It’s ex trouble. You know how it goes.”

No, Jack didn’t know how that went. His marriage had been nothing but delightful for almost twenty years.

Jack offered a sympathetic smile. “So, I know you don’t want to fight with her, but she sounds like the kind of woman who won’t listen unless a judge tells her to. You know my cousin, Steph? She went through something nasty with her ex a few years ago. I’ll get the number of the guy she worked with. He was really good. Time to lawyer up and get your fighting gloves on?”

Jordan wasn’t a fighter, but maybe sometimes there wasn’t a choice. He gave Colette a chance to play nice, but she only wanted war. As it usually went, Colette would get what she wanted. 

— boxes and squares #5.4: togetherness, part 6/6

next -> // 5.4 start // index

notes: yes, they do know his cousin, Steph. Sim stories are cozy like that, lol! Realistically, it would be a rare coincidence that they both worked with Stephanie, then moved across the country and independently befriended Jack. But everybody knows everybody in these sims legacies. We'll just pretend like that's not weird at all. 🙃

Chapter complete! I have a little more Tomorang picspam to share before my vacationers return home, and then we'll get Carly to pee on a stick!!! (You know, unless I have that pregnancy glitch where they can't take a preggy test... 😏)

pose credits: bumper pack talking poses by rebouks

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content warnings: sims behaving badly, infidelity, little bit spicy, no nudity

“Follow me,” she said, and he did. It was sort of a test. She wanted to see if he could handle a bossy woman. 

She led him downstairs, past the classical art wing where they entered, past the lobby, past the guest services on the ground floor, the family bathrooms and the lockers. Down another flight to the basement, the storage rooms, the loading docks. She opened the door to a boiler room.

“Should I be worried that you’re leading me off to my murder?” 

“I only murder when I’m angry,” Colette joked. “But I can’t answer for your wife, should she find out about this.” 

He didn’t laugh. Colette didn’t take offense. She’d never been known to have a ripping sense of humor. 

The boiler room was noisy and totally empty. It was the kind of room that didn’t get much foot traffic at 9:00 in the evening. Also the kind of room that probably didn’t have any cameras, but Colette wasn’t too shy to put on a show if there were. 

“You know, I could have taken you somewhere,” he said.

A whole hotel room, all that expectation. She’d tried and failed at that already. “No, it’s too much. Does this shock you?” 

She was leaving no mystery to what he’d be dealing with. If he was going to be disappointed, she wanted to know right now.

“I must say, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Well, you can work your way up to more. You can try. Start now. Kneel.”

And his eyes lit up. If he was surprised by her ask, she was equally as surprised by his answer. He knelt.

“Okay, now slide your hand up my leg. Slowly.” 

He took direction enthusiastically. A little too well, maybe. His hand found the long slit of her skirt and the bare skin of her knee, slowly tracing upward.

“There,” she said. “Stop there.”

She didn’t mean to make a whole show about it. Some people did, but it had never occurred to her to try that before. She just wanted to ask for what she wanted without the whole song and dance. Men had such fragile egos—she was learning that more and more every day. She felt silly at first, but then she felt empowered by it, by how he played along.

She lifted her leg slowly, resting her shoe on his thigh. “Now wait,” she said. She slid the toe of her shoe to his groin, teasing him to arousal. “Now beg.”

“Yes, Miss Marin. Anything you want, Miss Marin. Please.”

“Good boy.” 

Oh, how he grinned. What can of worms did she open with this one? Okay, maybe it was about ten percent fun. Maybe it could grow on her. 

“The chairs,” she said, her body on fire with power, with possibility. Her body throbbed with the hunger, and she knew just how she wanted it. “You’ll use your hands, and so will I. You’ll unzip your pants and finish inside.”

So he draped her over one of those cheap metal chairs, and he handled her expertly. 

And this was different. She would see him again, she decided, and he could have her in a hotel room next time. She thought to ask him, How many times have you cheated on your wife? But she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. 

This time, she texted to let Gabby know she was headed home, and she didn’t pull any tricks about it. She gave them twenty whole minutes to finish whatever unruly trouble they’d gotten themselves into, because she honestly couldn’t bear to look her boys in the face after the night she had. 

The boys were thankfully nowhere to be seen and Gabby sat quietly on the couch with her calculus books closed and her phone in hand. Werewolves tonight, the sound turned down low.  

Colette couldn’t believe her eyes. “What did you guys do tonight?”

“Oh, not much. We did the puzzle. It was okay. Then some video games, and we read some books.”

“That’s all?”

“Yup.”

Gabby took her wages for the night, collected her things, and left.

When Colette went to the kitchen to clean up and turn out the lights, she found a book that Gabby left next to the puzzle boxes. She flipped open the cover. A Modern Witch’s Guide to the Craft. After the werewolves, the zombies, the yetis, the mermaids, the ghosts, and now witches?

Whatever, it wasn’t real, anyway. Just another of the many fantastical things these kids filled their head with.

And that was fine. We all liked a bit of fantasy from time to time.

Colette was too tired to make a stink about it. There was lots to care about in life, and this wasn’t it. So she turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed.

— boxes and squares #5.3: hindsight is a bitch, part 11/11

next: chapter #5.4 -> // 5.3 start // index

notes: just to keep in mind that occults (spellcasters, etc.) in my story world are only as real or unreal as they would be in real life. But then, all kinds of people believe all kinds of things...

Also, trait reveal for Sebastian. Probably not surprising that he's noncommittal. Then why ever did he get married? We'll find out more about that a few chapters later in the story. Also, bad reputation. Clearly, lol! Colette’s mean trait approves!

Chapter complete! Whew, that one got long! Colette began this chapter with one goal—to get laid. So, score? But the introspection she had along the way, though often unpleasant, will surely be more valuable than the filthy sex.

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The boys bombed through the front door, leaving it wide open, so they could run to their mother in the kitchen. That was fine because Jordan followed behind them with his arms full of their camping gear, backpacks and boots and worn out supplies, and made a small pile near the door. No, he didn't intend to leave it here, he wanted Colette to know. But the boys had her attention, so he didn’t say anything.

“My boys! How did you get even bigger since you were gone?”

Colette opened her arms to two slimy, sweaty, stinky children, offering a loose hug, patting their backs.

“Oh, why are you wet?” She didn't wait for them to answer. “And you smell like campfire. Still? Were there no showers? Hugs later. Get straight in the shower. Don’t sit anywhere! Go on, straight upstairs!”

The boys minded their mother and ran upstairs.

“Hygiene, Jordan. My God, their skin could rot right off. And what did you do to your face? How are you twenty-eight years old and you still can’t put on sunscreen? But you kept them alive, it looks like.”

“We had a blast,” Jordan said. “I would have stayed there forever.”

“Ha, well, you can’t. So welcome back to reality.”

“Can’t? Who says? You?”

“Says everybody! Ugh. You’ve been watching too many of those vanlife videos. It’s a fairytale. It’s not real. People don’t really live like that. They just want you to believe in it for the views.”

“Some people do.” Jordan shrugged. “We could homeschool the boys, unschool them, so we’re not tied to a school schedule all the time. That’s a thing people do.”

“Not normal people. Unschool? What even is that? I worked so hard to get them into that school. They have a middle grade to college-prep curriculum. What about their friends, their sports, their future?”

“What about seeing the world and living life on our own terms?”

She grimaced. “Eww. Why?”

“To break out of this box,” he said.

“The box isn’t the problem. We just need a bigger box. A nicer box. I want the boys to have their own bedrooms. I want a master bathroom suite with a soaking tub. I want a home office that isn’t also my dining room.”

“I don’t want to buy a house.”

“Right, you want to live like a hobo.” She cackled.

She hated how little ambition he had. He imagined if she had a genie’s magic lamp, she would have wished him into an entirely different man, maybe a corporate CEO with a six-figure salary. But fantasy wasn’t reality, and the reality was that her children’s father was tragically subpar for her tastes.

“What about what I want?” His question was futile, he already knew that.

“Maybe if what you wanted wasn’t so stupid! Want a better job! Want to make something of yourself! God, you’re such a child sometimes. Grow up.” 

It was no mystery that she didn’t love him, but he often wondered if she actively hated him. She wanted him here to help when the boys were little, but now that they were almost ten, she probably wished he would just leave. 

Why are you here? This isn’t your life.

He didn’t want to leave his boys. But short of kidnapping, he didn’t know what he could do.

He laughed, an exasperated huff. “Why don’t you just say it’s your way or the highway?”

She cocked her brows. “I didn’t think that was unclear.” 

The cage wrapped around him and swallowed him whole. 

She shook her head once. “My boys won’t be homeschooled and they won’t live in a travel van. You know the campfire smell doesn’t come out of their hair for days. It really does make me retch. And when you’re done cleaning up this pile, you need a shower, too. Don’t even think about sneaking into my bed for a nap. And, actually, don’t sit on the couch, either.”

Another ten years, he couldn’t do it. Not even for his boys. He couldn’t keep this family together. It was going to unravel. It had to. And he was sorry for that. So sorry.

They’d have to get used to him being sorry for things.

— "why are you here? #3: a cage left open" part 9/9

Next -> // WAYH #3 start // index

notes: if only she knew he considered the idea of giving her another chance, briefly as it may have been. But then she ran her mouth and ruined it. 😤

Post chapter poll coming right up!

There is one more (short!) chapter in this prequel story, then we return to the main timeline! Finally, lol! I’m excited to be back in the future again.

[pixeldistractions]

So Jordan left. And maybe Milo would come down to the couch in the night where he wouldn’t find his father, and he’d have to seek out his mother instead, who tucked him in a way he didn’t prefer, and he’d be disappointed.

Might as well get used to the disappointment. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.  

His driving took him just out of the suburbs, down dark country roads that had grown so familiar to him over the years. Only he usually drove in the other direction. Tonight, he drove back to work.

He parked in front of the hotel, where he found only Sharon's car and one more unfamiliar vehicle that may have belonged to a guest. He knew everyone's cars by now. Maria's coupe, and Stephanie's minivan, and Ian who rode a little moped—they had all gone home for the night already.

It was late enough that the front desk was dark, the fireplace snuffed out, the kitchen was closed, and Sharon had already taken herself to bed. But they used an old-fashioned key system here, not electric key cards, so Jordan could see which rooms were available at a glance. It was an ordinary Monday night. Most of the rooms were vacant, even some of the nicer ones. But Jordan wasn’t greedy.

He took the smallest no frills single and wrote a paper note for Sharon to take the fees from his pay, which often she didn’t because his vagrancy had become so common an occurrence lately that she felt sorry for him.

This room, the last one at the end of the hall, the smallest, the oldest, the one they kept meaning to upgrade and never got around to it. She might as well have put his name on it. 

He dropped his backpack on the chair, took off his shoes, and climbed straight into bed, lamenting his life and what to do next. Each idea, as it came, was struck down by Colette's sharp voice in his head. Tattoos he wanted that she would hate, trucks he wanted that she said weren’t important, adventures to faraway places that seemed from another life. Lives that weren’t his.

But why not? Because he got some chick pregnant at eighteen and she said so. It was just a mistake. How could a whole life be decided on one little mistake?

Fuck that. He was done letting Colette tell him what he could or couldn’t do.

There was a brochure in his pack that came home with him this summer and hadn’t made it to the recycling bin, nestled at the bottom of his few belongings with Maria's winery tour. Impossibilities... but did they have to be?

He read the pamphlet until its creases broke. He read every page on the linked website again and again. He scoured the internet for reviews. The reviews were stellar.

It was a climbing class in Nevada on the cliffs near Canyonlands National Park. They trained two sessions a year, twelve weeks at a time, eventually building up to a big climbing retreat in January. Each year was different. They climbed in Brazil and Switzerland and Japan.

There were probably closer classes to take. There were gyms with rock walls everywhere. There were canyons in West Virginia and cliffs in Ohio, but this was the one he wanted. Maya’s Climb Club, and it was in Nevada. It wasn’t the closest or the easiest or the cheapest. Jordan just wanted to live his life.

Click, payment approved.

Jordan had four-thousand dollars in his bank account that he had saved for an apartment, but he dropped half of it on the deposit for this fall's climbing session.

You were always such an idiot with money, Colette’s voice harped in his head.

Then an electric glee zipped through his body, speeding through his heart, squeezing sweat out of his palms. What did he just do? 

The fine print said “no refunds.” He read it, and he understood it. He was going to Nevada. Can't take it back now.

Classes started in less than two months, and he had no plan. Not even an idea, to be honest. Where would he stay? How would he afford it? But none of that mattered yet. In this quaint little hotel room, halfway between one life and the next, with the glow of his phone on his face in the dark, he laughed.

Oh, what a wild, raw, incredible mess this was going to be.

But what if it worked? What if it was amazing?

Now the future was ripped wide open. A future full of possibilities. He’d take the boys in the summers and on school breaks. Maybe he’d have an apartment somewhere, but they’d never be in it. They’d be out in the world, hiking and camping and fishing and adventuring. This! Yes, this is your life! You found it, now go!

But first, so many goodbyes. The kind of goodbyes that made his heart shrivel up. 

His boys. Not goodbye forever, of course. Kids can live in two different places. Probably. Doesn’t it happen all the time? Don’t most children of broken homes end up mostly okay?

In high school he had a friend whose parents were divorced. His dad lived in South Carolina and he spent the whole summer there every year. It happens, people adapt, and they usually don’t grow up to be weirdos. Although that guy did get involved with a religious cult and did some jail time for a bit. Check fraud, not murder or anything. He seemed legit now, on his social media feeds at least.

But some of Jordan’s goodbyes wouldn’t come with visitation weekends.  

Maria, he thought. If leaving for Nevada meant leaving his job, then it also meant leaving Maria. And sure, he’d miss Ian and Stephanie, too, and he’d never have a more accommodating boss than Sharon. He’d miss their cooking and free coffee and sitting around the kitchen, shooting the shit and being paid for it. And Maria, delightful Maria, made of laughter and birthday cake, honey and roses. He felt an instant pang of regret, of inevitability, of unfairness. 

Friends can visit, he reassured himself, wondering if he was filling his hopes with hot air. They weren’t childhood buddies. They weren’t family friends. They were work friends, a lesser tier of friendship. Work friends with an unconsummated crush involved, which made the situation even more precarious. That kind of friendship stood little chance to distance, once their lives took over, going their separate ways, until all they were to each other was a tiny *heart* on a picture of their kids or dogs or vacations, until she forgot about him completely because Jordan was terrible at updating his social media feeds. 

But wasn’t that the theme of his life? Losing people, the best people, the most necessary people. This time it would be his own fault. If he wanted a life of freedom and adventure, he would make and lose many friends over the years. Loss would be woven into the fabric of his life. He might as well get used to it.

— "why are you here? #4: then go" part 4 / 4

next: my sweetheart #3 // WAYH #4 start // index

note: please remember this man has an “irresponsible” trait. 🙃

[pixeldistractions]

warnings: oh, it’s long. but it’s chatty, so it should go fast...

Jordan was enjoying a pleasant evening at camp and he really didn’t want to bring the mood down. There was absolutely no way Colette had anything pleasant to say.

So…

Colette: declined. Colette: declined.

He would let her complaints go to voicemail, like he usually did.

Then, a short while later, a call from Milo, which was unusual because he’d spoken to the boys only an hour ago.

“Hey, what’s up, buddy?”

But it wasn’t Milo. It was Colette.

“It’s endearing, truly, how quickly you answer the phone for your son.”

“What are you doing on Milo’s phone? Where is Milo?”

Colette’s voice in his deeply-buried memories shouted, Answer your phone, you asshole. He’s dead. Why aren’t you here? You need to be here!

Several combined nightmares flashed through Jordan’s head—that he didn’t answer Colette’s call and something was wrong this time, that something happened to one of the boys, that he wasn’t there, that he didn’t get to say goodbye. Again.

“He’s fine,” Colette said. “He’s playing basketball across the street. But you wouldn’t have answered if I called you from my phone.”

Exhale.

Maria watched him with wide eyes. He patted her shoulder as he got up, mouthing, It’s okay.

He walked off into the dust where they couldn’t hear.

“You blame me for not answering? You usually don’t have anything productive to say.”

“What was so important you can’t answer?”

“My whole life is important,” he said.

“What if something happened?”

“I read the texts, I listen to your nasty voicemails. I talk to them every day. I talked to them just an hour ago. I knew it was just going to be your usual nagging.”

“So, this is what we do now? You send my calls to voicemail, then answer back hours later with a text?”

“It works for me,” Jordan quipped. “How’s Milo’s homework?”

Milo had shown him his most recent report card already, and it was solid B’s and C’s. She couldn’t fault him on that.

“It’s a passable idea only because you’re not here to help him properly,” she said.

“Hate me if you want,” he said. “But you don’t have to punish the boys because you want to punish me.”

“I'm punishing the boys? Oh, that's rich.”

“You are, because you like being mad more than you like being happy.”

Colette huffed. “You don’t know anything.”

“Did you actually want something? Or you just called to insult me? This is why I don’t answer your calls.”

“When did you get so snotty? If you were this spunky when we were together, maybe we wouldn’t have broken up.”

“Yes, we would,” he said.

“Yes. I did want something. The boys said you’re coming back in December? Is that true? Don’t promise them things if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know yet. A month, at least.”

“Fine. I’ll set the court date.”

“We don’t have to go to court.”

“Yes, we do,” she sneered. “I want a child support schedule. You need a lawyer. There’s a way to do this and you’re doing it wrong. They won’t give you any custody if you don’t have a place to live. That camper is not a home. Not even summers, not even for a few weeks. And my boys aren’t going to sleep on the floor of whatever skank you’ve hooked up with.”

Jordan bristled at the idea of Colette calling Maria a skank.

“You must be fucking someone by now,” she said. “We haven’t had sex for almost a year. And I knew you were with that blonde skank. The photographer. I watched her channel, and she was going on and on about you.”

God damn it, Ingrid. “It’s not real. None of that is real. She’s a writer. She makes shit up. I’m not with Ingrid. I never was.”

He worried then that Maria had been watching Ingrid’s channel, too.

“To be honest,” she said, “I just don’t believe you.”

She must have sensed something was going on, and he hadn’t been totally honest with her. He didn’t know how much information he owed her, but she was the mother of his children and she had to find out eventually. He was surprised, but proud, that the boys hadn’t spilled the beans already.

“So, I have been seeing someone,” he began.

Seeing someone? It was rather more involved than that by now, since she was here with her child, since they were living together, since she left her entire life for him, since he made an irrevocable promise not to break either of their hearts for now and all of eternity? What do you call that? Quite more than just “seeing someone.” They made vows.

“It’s not Ingrid. Her name is Maria and you don’t know her.”

Colette was so silent on the other end that he thought the call disconnected.

Then she finally asked, “How long?”

“Since August.”

“Do the boys know about her?”

“Yes, they do.”

“Those little fuckers.”

“Don’t be like that,” he said. “It’s not their fault. I asked them to let me tell you first.”

“Then what took you so long?”

He couldn’t think of a good answer, but she didn’t wait for one anyway.

“You met her at work?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. I did.”

“I knew it, you always loved going in there. Must have been some reason, since the money was shit. How are you seeing someone from work if you don’t live here anymore?”

“She’s here now,” he said. “She moved here. She’s living with me. We’re living together.”

“Living together. Ha! She’s living with you, in your camper? Wow.” Colette cackled into the phone. “She sounds like a real winner. Let me guess: bleach blonde, fake tan, tramp stamp, missing a couple of teeth?”

“Fuck off, Colette.”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” she said. “Whatever, I don’t care anymore.”

He could imagine the way her nose swung up, a single sharp intake and a huff.

“Good, how was your date with the doctor? Everything you ever dreamed of?”

Silence again, a few breaths too long. “He drives a Porsche and his dick is bigger than yours.”

“He sounds like your soulmate, better hang onto him,” Jordan said.

“Since when do you believe in soulmates? Oh, God, never mind, I don’t want to hear it. See you in December.”

click

Jordan knew there was little chance Colette actually went on that date. She should, though. She honestly should.

— “boxes and squares #5.2: come down from the clouds” (10/10)

previously: the blonde photographer // the boys know first // they made vows

Next -> // 5.2 start // index

author’s notes: and that concludes chapter #5.2!

Also I think it makes for a decent transition into #5.3, in which Colette will have the spotlight entirely to herself! (She’s going to love that.)

Chapter #5.3, “hindsight is a bitch” will begin after a short break.

[pixeldistractions]

Five years ago…

He was twenty-four. He remembered that because the short window of time that he and Colette were something of an attempted pair, a trial with mostly error, was approximately Halloween to Easter the year the boys were four. For those six months, he was allowed to sleep in her bed. They took family outings to the beach (she hated the sand, the sun, and the bugs) and the mall (he hated the noise, the crowds, and the materialism). People saw them together and offered to take a family picture. They smiled when prompted. They ate dinner together at the dining room table with their boys.

It didn’t last long, but she used to talk about marriage that year.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Well, it’s not so crazy,” she said.

“Marriage is a cage,” he told her, sitting up to laugh. She was offended now, and he’d probably never hear the end of it.

“Marriage is just an institution,” she quipped. “Don’t over think it. We can fuck other people if you want. People do that sort of thing.”

He laughed incredulously. Sure, some people did that sort of thing, but it seemed quite a leap to go from the only woman he’d ever slept with to having more casual lovers than he could count on his hands. He wouldn’t claim he wasn’t curious, but he just didn’t think he was that type.

“Because you don’t have a drop of retirement savings, and news flash, you won’t get social security on my efforts either because you don’t want to get married. You could divorce me after ten years and it would still be yours.”

“You wouldn’t cheat the government for me.”

She turned up her nose. “It’s not cheating, it’s just the rules.” Hmph.

She was mad now.

She was always mad though, so it barely registered. He didn’t have an answer for her, and he didn’t assume she was formally asking a question.

Or was she? Was this her idea of a marriage proposal?

Marriage to her for another ten years? Didn’t that seem like a fate worse than poverty? And perhaps that was also the exact moment he knew he would never marry her for any amount of money.

He never really cared about money, anyway. She hated that about him, too.

And maybe that was also the moment he decided that he would probably never marry anyone. If marriage was a cage and if most women wanted generally the same kinds of things Colette wanted, it wasn’t a trap he wanted to sign up for. No thanks, no way.

Colette shook her head, expressionless. “You’re going to be old and frail and destitute. Not my problem to solve.”

He wanted to fire back, “I never asked you to solve my problems.”

But that wasn’t entirely true. And she knew it.

Now…

Marriage is a cage, he thought.

But does it have to be?

Could it be a lock without a cage? A promise, a vow? Simple and nourishing. Effortless and fun. Could it be companionship and support and dedication? Could it always be just like this?

He had nothing to compare this to. He never got to know his parents’ marriage, though he heard stories that it was a wonderful one. The only relationship he’d ever known was cold and combative and didn’t instill much faith in the institution.

But this was different, and if a marriage could be like this, then maybe he wanted it. He wanted this to go on and on. Two wild hearts and their combined feral children and a whole wide world of adventure. This, right here in these traveling walls, was everything he ever wanted.

Almost everything. It could be everything.

— “boxes and squares #5.1: live the fairytale” (10/10)

^ he’s gonna burn out his brain overthinking this one, lol!

But let’s let him stew on that for a little while. He’s got heaps of shit to sort out first.

Chapter 5.1 is now complete. 5.2 is in the works and coming… soonish. I can’t promise anything yet, but I can tell you it’s called “come down from the clouds.”

Next -> // 5.1 start // index