Moments that define us

Chapter Nine

Emily

The next couple of weeks flew bye. I started working at Doctor Master's office, and so far I loved it. The kids I got to see made everything worth it. They made me excited to one day have my own family. The shots though, I cried for fifteen minutes in the bathroom after I gave an 8 month old little girl shots. I prayed about it. Asked Jesus if this is where I really was supposed to be, then the next little kid told me all about how she painted her papaws toenails while he was sleeping, and I knew I would be okay. 

It seemed as if Jameson was constantly working. Long hours every single day. He even worked the whole weekend, one weekend. We talked on FaceTime every night though until I would fall asleep to the sound of his voice. We talked more about him ridin' bulls, and how he lives on the road now, but eventually wanted a farm with horses. He told me about how his maw made the best peach cobbler, and how he missed her, and her cooking. He said he was planning on visiting her soon. I wondered if he would be coming back after that, or if his job would be sending him somewhere else. He was working all over Kentucky lately, but that could easily change depending on where he was needed.

We finally got to see each other again the following Saturday. He had to work that morning, but took me to dinner that night at a local restaurant. Things were falling into place. I could easily see this going somewhere. At dinner that night I was rambling on about the kids I saw at work. I looked up at him with such enthusiasm in my voice, but the look on his face had me stopping cold. His eyes looked like they were drowning in so much pain. His jaw was tight, and his fists were clenched so hard, he was bending his fork. When he saw I noticed, he shook his head, cleared his throat, and started saying how the kids are lucky to have a nurse like me. He was like a robot the rest of the night. When he dropped me off at home, he didn't walk me to my door. He barely gave me a peck, and said he'd call me later.

I went straight to bed that night and cried myself to sleep. He was still being closed off about his past. That terrified me. But the version of him being carefree and making me laugh, telling me about his pap and maw, about the adventures he and Mac would go on when they were young. I lived for those moments. It's those moments that made me feel like I was falling. But the moments he kept to himself spoke the loudest. He was drowning in a past he wouldn't share, and I felt like he was taking my hand into the raging water, but any time the waves looked too high, he would push me back so I'd find the safety of the beach.

What was worse was I couldn't talk to Amy about any of it. Her and Mac started talking, and I didn't want her to tell him my concerns, so I suffered the burden alone, and cried for Jesus to move this mountain.  He barely messaged me throughout the week, and the calls were short, with him having something come up, and having to go. The following weekend I knew Jameson was off work. Not because he told me, but because Mac had told Amy. Mac and Amy  were going to the lake to rent some jet skis, and immediately I was jealous. Then I was scolding myself, because Amy deserved a nice guy, and not a guy who trampled over her.

I hadn't heard from Jameson all weekend, so Sunday after church I headed to his hotel. Still dressed in a long dusty pink sundress, and high heels. I marched straight up to his door and pounded on it. A few minutes went bye before I pounded again, then finally I heard some rustling on the other side.

When he opened the door his dark brown hair a complete mess. His scruffy beard was even longer, and he looked to be in a state of disarray. Those gray eyes started at my heeled feet, and moved up my body. When they met my eyes, I wanted to cry at the mess he was in. "Can I please come in?" My voice was wavering, and my throat was thick with emotions I was too scared to feel.

He didn't say a word, just opened his door wider, and stepped back for me to walk in. His room was a slight mess. Clothes were scattered here and there, the sheets were rumpled, and there was beer cans scattered throughout. My heart was breaking for this man. He didn't think I could handle what he had to say. He thought I was too innocent and sweet. He wanted to keep me that way. Which was fine. I just wanted to share his burden before we both hit rock bottom.