CHAPTER 57
The following week I'm more than relieved to step into the solace of the Marketing department and get my mind off of the days before. Olivia didn't take the news that we were splitting up as badly as I anticipated, but the night we told her I heard her quietly crying in her bed until she fell asleep. All the while I wondered if we were doing the right thing. I hate hurting her, but I know that other things in our future and other people could be sacrificed if we take the easy way out. And neither of us would be happy in the end-including Olivia.
Joe and I have a long talk and decide that we will get the divorce paperwork started immediately. Luckily, Oregon has a pretty easy process, and since we aren't fighting over any assets, we should be able to get through this quickly and simply.
We decide that we'll take turns with Olivia every other weekend, but to avoid taking her from her environment, we will alternate staying with her at our house while the other person stays somewhere else. Joe will also pick her up after school every day and bring her home as usual. On Wednesday's he'll come over and have dinner with her and I am welcome to join them.
I decide to let him have the first weekend with her and I'll go stay at my mom's. She's heading out of town to visit family, so I will have the house to myself while watching her dog. I'm actually looking forward to it.
Since Stacy lives down the street from my mom's, we decide to have a BBQ on Saturday if the weather holds up. It's been surprisingly warm for mid-April, so we plan to take advantage of it.
The work week goes by quickly. However, there is a change in the atmosphere between Michael and me. It's familiar. Sort of a mix between flirtation and comfortable buddies. One day when I stepped out of my office to go to the copy room, I ran into Michael in the hallway. He surprised me by jokingly picking me up and placing me back in my office.
Luckily no one was looking, but it was funny?.and familiar. The best part was feeling his embrace. Even if that's not what was intended. For just a brief moment, I could smell him, feel him and pretend that he knew who I was to him.
On Friday night Stacy and I have another girl's night and split a bottle of wine at my mom's. We sit on the back patio and look up at the big night sky with its stars shining bright. We talk about life, work, vacations we want to take?her chaotic love life.
"You know, I think Michael likes you," she says, breaking a moment of silence.
I try to not react and play it cool. "Yeah, maybe, but we are just friends," I say
"Mmm, hmmm," she teases.
I giggle. "Look, trust me, I like Michael. But I'm still going through this stuff with Joe and it wouldn't be right to rush into something," I rationalize.
"Well, my dear, you may have to rush because you don't have much time until he leaves. May is approaching quickly," she says.
Crap! In the midst of all the chaos with Joe and trying to get Michael to notice me, I failed to remember that we are in a time crunch here.
What will I do if John doesn't get back in time to get me out of this situation before Michael leaves? What if Michael leaves and that's that? What if he goes back to Sweden and we are still just friends? If I'm stuck here, living my life all over again, then it could mean living my life without him?and without Stella.
I can't remember all of the details of how Michael and I finally got together. Only the "Deja vu dazes" give me clues, and those are sporadic. And even if I could remember, Astrid warned me not to intervene and try to control the outcome. I am walking a fine line and hanging in a balance that is tough to navigate.
My heart starts to race and I'm doing my best not to panic in front of Stacy. But I know I have to spend as much time with Michael as I can, without forcing myself on him. I remember enough about Michael to know that he doesn't like aggressive women. Confident, yes, assertive, yes, but desperate, no.
"So, who's coming to the barbecue tomorrow?" I ask Stacy.
"Um?.my sister, her baby, her boyfriend, you, Bjorn, Michael and their roommate, Lewis." she says.
"For sure, all of them?" I ask.
"Uh huh. Michael is even cooking. He wants to make a shrimp fettuccine dish, so he will be over earlier to cook since their kitchen is lousy," she replies.
"So will I," I say.
"Of course you will," she teases.
CHAPTER 58
At 4:00 p.m. the next day I walk over to Stacy's from my mom's house. The afternoon is unseasonably warm, but I know it will be chilly after dark. I'm wearing a jean skirt, flip flops and a t-shirt, but now wishing I would have brought a sweater. I didn't want to over dress, but I've managed to look cute for the occasion.
I take my time walking while focusing on my breathing. My nerves have been running high all day. I slept in this morning after tossing and turning all night. Between the wine swirling in my head and anxiety about Michael leaving soon, I couldn't settle down and didn't fall asleep until sometime after midnight.
I managed to get up around 10:00 a.m., then ran down to the private community gym that my mom has access to. The exercise helped stave off my stress for most of the day, but when it came time to leave, I started to feel sick with stress.
Part of me wants to tell Michael the truth, but I know that's irrational. It's highly unlikely that I would be able to sit him down and say, "Michael, you probably won't believe this, but I'm your wife from the future. Somehow I woke up in my past, but one that I never actually lived. But before I woke up here, you and I were married and we had a daughter. Can you please just believe me and stay with me for the rest of whatever I have left of this life?" Yep, sounds crazy even to me!
I'm half a block away when my cell phone rings from my back pocket. I take it out and see it's Astrid. "Hi, Astrid," I answer.
"Jennifer, I'm sorry to bother you. But I just couldn't stop thinking about you. It was more of a nagging sensation," she rambles. "Anyway, I just wanted to call you and tell you to relax," she says.
I'm sort of annoyed that she's so in tune with me, but I appreciate her support nonetheless. "Thanks," I reply.
"Look, I'm sure you are getting tired of my input, but I want you to enjoy what is happening right now," she explains.
"But he's leaving soon, Astrid," I whine. "I have about a month before he goes and I'm afraid I will never see him again," I continue, beginning to panic.
"Shhhh, none of that," she chides. "Listen, I can't make sense of any of this either. But remember that our fate and destiny is formed by us taking opportunities. It sounds like recently you have had a few that have just manifested on their own. I still can't see any future visions, but for some reason I'm at peace with what you are currently doing in regards to Michael. Oddly enough I have actually relaxed!" she says, laughing. I roll my eyes-that makes one of us.
"Hey, this is frustrating for me too, don't misunderstand me," she continues. "I've never been around someone whose future I couldn't read, but who I could sense so well," she explains. "BUT, if I were you I'd go along with this. You may or may not end up together, honey, but the fact of the matter is you have this time with him. Don't think about tomorrow, don't think about next year, or ten years from now. Just be with him now, while you can," she encourages.
I'm almost on the verge of tears. She's right. This is what I need to do. Live in the moment and get whatever time I have with Michael now and appreciate it. God knows I took it for granted right before I arrived in this life.
Distracted by my conversation with Astrid, I don't realize that I've walked right up to Stacy's driveway. I stop to collect myself for a moment before going inside. I have to enjoy this. I need to be upbeat and positive. I can't sour the mood.
I hear a car pull up behind me and park. When turning around, I see it's Lewis' car. Michael is in the passenger seat and Bjorn's in the back.
"I gotta go," I say.
"OK, Love," she says, her voice bright.
We hang up and I wave at Michael, as he steps out of the car. He's dressed in shorts and a short sleeve button up
shirt. He wears a big smile on his face. "Hey! You here to help me cook?" he jokes.
I shrug. "Sure!" I reply.
"Great. You can chop all the onions, because I'm not crying tonight," he says with a sarcastic smile. I silently hope that I won't be either.
He heads towards me carrying a grocery bag and a six pack of beer in one hand, then steps up to me and gives me a big friendly hug. I'm taken back a bit, but I know this is him. I remember that he's warm and always greets close friends and family this way. This is a good sign.
I take the beer from his hand and carry it inside. This small act comes naturally to me. We walk into the living room, moving close together. Stacy has lively indie music playing on the radio.
"Hey guys!" she says greeting us all with hugs. "Come on in. Michael, the kitchen is all yours," she says, pointing towards it.
Everyone easily settles in. I help set out wine and chips. The guys open their beers and Michael gets to work cooking. The happy ambience pervades the house. We're all light hearted and living in this moment together. Stacy heads out to the patio with her sister, Bjorn and Lewis. This leaves Michael and me alone in the kitchen.
"Here, can you chop this?" he asks, handing me an onion. I dutifully take out the cutting board and knife and start my task.
We are quietly preparing a meal together, something I feel we have done many times. At some point we start singing along to a song together. It is easy, natural. We are content in this space together. Dinner is delicious. When I taste Michael's food I'm thrown back into a moment of familiarity. It tastes like home. I'm instantly comforted by its aroma and flavor.
After dinner, Michael pulls out Stacy's abandoned acoustic guitar and starts to strum. Her sister's ten month-old daughter crawls over to him and pulls herself up to stand near his legs. She begins to bounce along with the song. He looks down at her and smiles while he continues to play.
I'm thrown into another flash of memory. I see Stella. I see Michael singing in Swedish to her. Then my memory jumps and I see him teaching Olivia to play the guitar when she's eight. I am quickly pulled back into the present. My face feels hot and I'm now a little dizzy.
I glance around the room, but no one seems to notice my frazzled state. I slip out of the room and go to the patio for some fresh air. Breathe, breathe, breathe. You've got to breathe, Jenni.
I allow the evening breeze to kiss my face as I turn towards the setting sun. I close my eyes and focus on getting my pulse to slow down. Feeling a hand touch the middle of my back, I jump and turn to see who it is.
"Hey, you OK?" Michael asks.
"Oh, yeah, I just got warm in there," I reply.
"So, how are things with you? Everything going alright at home?" he asks, sincerely.
"Yes, actually. It's really good," I say, feeling better.
Michael pulls two patio chairs over for us to sit in. For the next hour we get lost in conversation. I explain Joe's and my situation and tell him what our plans are. He talks?more about finishing school when he gets back home and the traveling that he wants to do. I tell him I want to go to Paris. He jokes that if I end up going, he'll meet me there.
We talk about Sweden and what it was like growing up there, and more about his friends and family. As he tells me about it, I feel as if I could finish most of his sentences. I don't remember things in detail, but they seem like stories I've heard before. Probably because I have.
CHAPTER 59
The night continues on with more wine, beer, singing and laughter. Stacy's sister and her family have gone home, so only the five of us are left. It's midnight when Bjorn finally?passes out on the couch. Stacy and Lewis seem to be hitting it off, as they've spent most of the evening flirting and talking. Throughout the night Michael and I have also managed to have some deeper conversations about relationships, life and our hopes for the future.
It's now almost 1:00 in the morning, Michael doesn't feel comfortable driving and Lewis isn't in any shape to drive either. After a while, we realize Stacy and Lewis have disappeared.
"Uh oh," I say to Michael.
"Great," he says sarcastically. "Lewis has a tendency to get clingy, so this might not be ideal," he explains. I nod understandingly.
"Well, I should be heading back to my mom's now. Her dog needs to go out," I say. I don't want to leave, but I can't shirk my responsibilities.
"OK, I'll walk you home," he says, rising. He grabs his sweatshirt from the back of a chair as I head to the front door. Suddenly, I feel something drape over my shoulders. I reach around and feel the soft cotton of a sweatshirt covering me.
"It's cold outside," he remarks. I gently smile, delighted by the gesture.
We quietly make our way down the sidewalk. The night is very still and the houses are dark. An occasional glow from a television beams from an upstairs bedroom. I hear crickets and frogs sing in the nearby wetlands. We say nothing as we walk, content with hearing the night noises and enjoying the cool brisk air.
We arrive quicker to my mom's house than I anticipated. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" Michael asks, as I unlock the front door.
"Go right ahead," I say, walking inside ahead of him.
The dog quickly makes her way to greet us, wagging her tail and sniffing Michael's legs. He kneels down to her level and pets her. She nuzzles his chin and gives it a quick lick, which makes him laugh.
"Sweet dog," he remarks.
"The bathroom's the first door on the left," I say, while taking off my shoes. He slips his off as well and makes his way down the hall.
While he's in the bathroom, I wonder if he took his shoes off to stay or if it's a habit. I realize he did this at Stacy's too, so there may be nothing behind it. I'm almost certain it's a common courtesy in Sweden.
I walk to the kitchen and grab a glass for water. My throat is sore from all the laughing and talking. I hear the toilet flush, the faucent turn on and off and then the lock on the bathroom door click. Michael meanders to the kitchen, taking time to look at the artwork and pictures on the wall.
"Do you want some water?" I offer.
"Yes, thanks," he replies, then casually walks towards a picture of me on the mantel. "Pretty," he says, holding it up to show me.
I blush. It's my senior picture and one that I actually like and don't mind being out on display. I was so young, flawless and unaware. "Thanks," I say, while handing him a glass of water.
"Is this your mom?" he asks, while picking up a picture of her and her husband at the beach.
"Yep, that's my mom and stepdad," I reply, sitting down on the couch.
"I bet you were a cute kid," he says.
"I was. Wanna see?" I tease.
"Humble too," he jokes.
I get up and open the cabinet under the television stand. Inside is a box of old pictures my mom keeps close by, as Olivia likes to take them out and look through them when we visit.
"Wow, that's a heavy box," he says, taking it from me and sitting down on the couch. Before I get a chance to sit next to him he's already opened the box and taken a stack of pictures out.
"Cute," he says, showing me a picture of my three year-old self in a pink tutu and orange bathing suit.
I smile. "I really wanted to be a ballerina when I was little," I explain.
For the next thirty minutes we sit close together on the couch and rifle through my childhood memories. I point out family members and tell him about places we went and friends I had. He listens intently, making occasional eye contact, but mostly just studies the pictures.
"It's funny. In some of these pictures, you look familiar," he says unexpectedly. "You look like someone I know, but I can't place it. Maybe like a girl I grew up with, I think. It's sort of strange," he shrugs it off.
Could it be that he remembers looking at these, or something is resonating with him? Of course he would have seen all these pictures at some point in our future, but that hasn't happened yet, so how could he recognize them?
"Do you want
a beer?" I ask, changing the subject.
"Sure, why not," he replies, still looking through the pictures.
I grab us each a beer, then turn on the stereo. My mom has a CD in it that I gave her of one of?my favorite bands, so I play it softly for background music.
"The moon is so bright," I say, noticing how the backyard is lit up by its shining light. "I think I'm going to go sit outside and look at the stars,"
"I'll come too," he says, getting up.
I grab a blanket that's draped over the couch and wrap it around my shoulders before stepping outside. The feeling of the crisp air on my face helps with the rush of heat I feel when I'm with him. I sit down in a reclining patio chair. Michael finds another one and pulls it close enough that we'd be touching if the chair arms weren't between us.