Blaze

Forty-Seven; James

For the next several weeks, I ignore her. I ignore the feelings I don't want to have. I throw myself into work and do all the things I'm supposed to do to get back to the numbness I desperately want, but none of it works. I still feel. I feel more every day. And not the good feelings. Anger. Sadness. Loneliness. Frustration. It's like she woke everything up, the good and the bad. And now I'm left with only the bad.

"The fuck-ups in accounting made an error. I fixed it. You're welcome." Jana drops a stack of papers on my desk with her usual scowl. Her attitude matches my own, but at least the new data promises a distraction. I pick up the reports and glance at the date. It's Blaise's birthday. I set them back down with a groan.

"Good catch. You can get out of here early if you want."

She sighs. "Thanks, I need to get beer for Blaise's party. If she even still wants a party."

"Why wouldn't she?"

Jana shrugs. "She just seems really sad today. Sadder than usual, I mean. I think it's her mom. I don't know."

"Why? Did Brenda forget her birthday?"

"No, the opposite. She actually came over this morning with coffee and donuts from Roasters. I thought that would make her happy, but it put her in a foul mood and she's been weird since then."

It's her birthday. Her first without her dad. I know exactly what triggered her, but I can't intervene directly. If she wanted to hear from me, she wouldn't have quit her job. If she wanted to hear from me, she would have called me back. But she didn't, not that I blame her.

"It's the donuts. Get her a chocolate croissant."

"What?"

"A chocolate croissant. Just trust me."

Jana narrows her eyes at me, then glances down at her cell phone. "If I leave right now I think I'll have enough time."

The door to my office swings open. Miranda practically tumbles into the room.

"Oh, Jana. Thank God."

"What's wrong?" Jana and I both ask in unison.

"I have a virtual open house with hundreds of attendees waiting on an e-vite, and I can't get the link to work. IT said it'll be an hour before they can assist."

Jana looks at me before she responds. "I don't have time to do both."

 "Help Miranda. But don't leave the office until I get back, okay?"

As soon as she nods her consent, I race out the door and sprint across the street. I'm panting by the time I yank the door to Roasters open, the bell jingling loudly as the door swings wildly on its hinges. Martha frowns when she sees me.

"What's wrong dear?"

"Chocolate croissants. Do you have any?"

"I just made a batch. They're in the back." She huffs when I follow her into the kitchen, but doesn't object.

"What has you in such a tizzy?" she asks.

"Nothing, I'm just in a hurry and it's an emergency." I pat my pockets frantically but realize with dismay that I left my wallet on my desk.

"I'm starting to think you don't know the definition of the word 'emergency'." She removes a croissant from the case, places it in a box and ties a thin white ribbon around it. She pats my cheek with a twinkle in her eye. "She's right outside."

I look through the window and see her huddled on our bench.

"Her roommate is going to give it to her. Do you mind if I use the back door?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Martha-"

She holds up a hand and shushes me. "That's for employees only. Sorry."

I know what she's doing. I look back out on the square and mentally map a route. It'll be a slightly longer walk, but I can make it to my office without having to pass directly in front of her. I look back at her small form on the bench. A breeze blows and she closes her red coat and wraps her arms around her body.

"Can you at least go check on her. It's freezing out."

"Check on her yourself."

"Martha -"

"Don't Martha me. Quit being so scared and stubborn. Grow a pair, and go get your girl."

I whip my head both directions and confirm we're alone before I respond. "She's not my girl. She can't be. There are circumstances outside of my control -"

"Oh, Bullshit. You're a grown man. You are in control of your life and your choices. You choose to be lonely and miserable because you're of being hurt again. And it's a damn shame because it's hurting you regardless. And you're hurting her."

I shake my head. "Choices have consequences. You don't understand the potential consequences."

She tisks her tongue and shakes her head at me. "You ever heard of the Adair Central Coal Company?" Martha asks. Her tone is softer, almost wistful. I turn back around to face her and nod my head. The company was sold and the mine shut down years before I moved to town, but of course I've heard of it. Everyone has; it employed most of the county for generations. 

"Did I ever tell you my dad owned it? And his dad before that?"

I glance around Martha's quaint bakery. I think about her humble little house on Hummingbird Lane and the old, used station wagon she drives. It doesn't add up.

"Not that it's any of my business, but if you're the Adair Central heir, why aren't you loaded?"

"Because I was disinherited for marrying Carl. You have to keep in mind this was 1960's rural Kentucky. Loving v. Virginia had just been decided, making our relationship legal, but that didn't mean everyone found it acceptable. My Daddy didn't approve. I had to chose between love and money. And I chose him. And trust me, being disinherited was only the beginning of some of the shit we faced. So watch yourself before you lecture me on choices and consequences."

"Fair enough, but that kind of proves my point. You chose love over money and lost both. He betrayed you and broke your heart. Don't you regret your choice?"

"Not at all. I regret some of his choices, especially toward the end. But I don't regret a single one of mine. We were happily married for decades. Shit happens and it didn't last. But I wouldn't erase the pain if it meant erasing the joy, too. And if you're honest with yourself, I don't think you would either. So imagine worst case scenario. Ask yourself, even if everything went to hell. You lose your job, she gets kicked out of school, hell, you break each other's hearts and end up right back where you started. Would all that be worth it to experience the joy you feel when you're with her?"

God, I hate how right Martha is. I would risk it all. But it's not just about me.

"I'm not the only one who this impacts. I can't make that decision for her."

"Then stop trying. If you don't respect her enough to let her take her own risks, then you're right. You need to set that box down, walk back to that office and leave that girl alone, because she does not need another controlling, patronizing asshole in her life. But I know you're not that person, James. So stop deflecting. Stop avoiding. Make your choice. And let her make hers."