I Am Jack's Life Ch. 18

Author's note and acknowledgements

This story has sat on my hard drive for four years now.

I wrote it, all twenty chapters and 95,000 words of it in eight days of a frenzied, near trance-like state, sitting on my couch with my wife's laptop. She would occasionally have to remind me to eat.

When the dust settled, and I looked up, I realized a couple of things: one, I had just written a fucking novel in a week, whoa. Two, it seemed to be pretty damn good, double whoa. And three, what the hell was I going to do with it?

I tried editing it, I even enlisted the help of a Lit-Editor, who was invaluable for early editing, and confirming it was in fact, pretty good, or readable at least. I spent several months then, editing, unashamedly forcing it on writer friends to read, regular friends to read, and total strangers on writer boards. Everyone had different opinions of course, as people do, but all of them seemed to think it was pretty good, and I should probably try to do something with it.

So I spent another year trying to sell it.

Well nothing happened.

And I can't blame them, agents and publishers. It's kind of a niche story, hard to market. It's got too much sex for a coming age story, too much teenage drama for adult fiction, and not a single word about vampires or bondage to make it work as erotic fiction.

So it's sat on my hard drive for four years. I'll occasionally open it up, tinker with a line, or try to figure out how to re-work it into something more marketable. I always end up wasting a weekend trying to figure out how to change it, without losing the essence of the thing which I, and several others, feel is, "pretty good."

So fuck it. Here you go Literotica. I just want people to read it. I want people to get to know Jack the way I did. Writing his life made me feel like I was a part of it. He's a pretty good guy, I wish I knew him in real life.

So NEXT, some disclaimers.

This is a coming of age story. Which means first it starts out when the characters are too young to have sex (on literotica.) So there's no sex for a couple chapters. I hope that's okay. Second, this is a novel length story, including the prologue and epilogue, there are twenty-one chapters in all. Some are longer than others, and there is not a sex scene in every one. (Though some have more than one.) More importantly, sex is a thing that happens, it's not written to be titillating, but rather just as events in Jack's life.

So there you go. It's a story with sex in it, not a story about sex. I think it's pretty good anyway.

If you have not read the first chapter, please click on my profile and pick the story up at the beginning, its better that way, trust me.

*****

As it turned out, it was my mother that changed the game, three weeks later.

I stared at the check. It was a lot of money.

"Mom, I can't accept this," I said, not looking up at her.

We were out for lunch, just the two of us. No Stan. That was nice.

I'd started the job hunt and gotten a few nibbles already. Not teaching jobs, but jobs nonetheless. I was probably going to get the tech writing job in Orange County. Abby's dad had put in a good word for me at a place he'd represented and still had friends at. It felt a little bit like nepotism to me, but the money was good and I needed a job. Abby told me to shut up and take it. I was just waiting on the call back. It was really only a formality at this point.

"Oh yes you can. You used all of your savings for your trip," she said.

I started to hand her the check back, "Yeah, and that was my choice." I said firmly.

She shook her head and didn't take the check, "and it was the right choice. Honestly Jack, you work harder at things than anyone I've ever met. You needed a break. Now..." she said with one of her little mom-smirks, "I need you out of my house."

I rolled my eyes, "If this is because of Stan, I'll just go stay with Abby at the beach house."

To be honest I'd been staying there more often than not the last week. It was way better waking up smelling Abby than Stan's butt fumes. There were other reasons of course. But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a factor.

My mother sipped her coffee, "Well you haven't yet, and I'm not sure you aren't making the right choice. You have to trust your instinct on these things. I was a bit surprised when you two didn't move in together right away. So I assume you're delaying for other reasons..." she said. I started to speak up in my defense, "And I'm sure they are good reasons. Your reasons. I trust your judgment - better than anyone's, Jack. This way, you don't have to make a choice you don't want too just to escape Stan and I."

I frowned, "Mom, Stan isn't..."

"Your father," she said flatly.

I admit. It left me speechless. I stared at my coffee with my mouth hanging open stupidly.

"Well, he isn't. I know that. Far better than you I might add. But I enjoy spending time with him. And I'm ready to do it without you underfoot," she smirked at me with a little twinkling of her eyes.

I shuddered. Do not contemplate that Jack - don't even think about what that means. Fuck. I thought about what it meant. Dammit.

"Okay then," I said and finished the rest of my coffee in a slug.

"You don't need a big place and I'm not Abby's parent's so I don't have a beach house for you. But that should give you a couple of months to get going on your own. I know you'll be fine," she said.

I flicked the check with my hand. She was right. This was the best option.

"Thanks mom, you're pretty damn smart," I said.

She smirked at me, "You didn't get it all from your father," she replied smugly.

I grinned at her and we enjoyed the rest of our lunch.

#

I found a place pretty quickly. It was exactly half way between the beach house and downtown LA. It was probably a little more expensive than I could afford, but it meant only a forty-five minute drive to Abby and where I would most likely be looking for work if the tech writer job didn't pan out. But it did, so my commute was a little rough. I grew up in California, though. I feared no traffic. It was a little one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a large multiplex. I had loud neighbors, coin operated laundry, and I had no intention of using the place's tiny pool that probably a thousand people shared. But it was mine.

I had my own place.

Abby and Beth, and Todd and Kimmy helped me get moved in. I didn't need a lot of furniture, but Todd and Kimmy gave me their old couch as a housewarming gift. It wasn't new, but they'd just bought a new living room set, so they needed to get rid of it anyway. I was grateful, even if it did have the faintest strange odor I couldn't identify.

I bought a small kitchen set at Wall-mart, and Beth got me some dishes and pots and pans. Abby bought me a television. I think she had to out do everyone else and I felt a little weird taking such an expensive gift. She told me she'd work it out of me later. Beth blushed. So did I.

Yeah, they all knew Abby and I were together. It wasn't a secret, even though there'd been no formal announcement. I guess news travels through osmosis in small circles.

Kimmy was starting to get very pregnant, and Abby and Beth fussed over her like hens. Strangely, I didn't have a hard time with it like I thought I would. Kimmy glowed. I never noticed expectant mothers glowed. But Kimmy could have lit up LA. It made her look beautiful in a way she never had before. I wasn't wistful when I thought about it either, just happy for her. I guess time heals and all that.

None of us heard from Anna, and though I didn't exactly tell people not to tell her where I lived, she never showed up. I wasn't disappointed in the slightest, just relieved.

My first night in the new apartment, I was sitting in my living room fidgeting. Abby hadn't stayed, though I'd invited her too, because Beth had needed a ride home. So I was by myself when there was the weirdest noise. It was as if a tiny siren was going off in intermittent bursts and wails.

I searched my apartment for a good hour, when I finally checked out on the balcony. Standing on the very edge was a tiny little kitten, she couldn't have been more than a month old. She was all black, except for a white dot on her forehead and her white front paws. She alternatively mewed helplessly and hissed at me as I approached. She teetered precariously on the railing of the balcony. It was a three story drop, there's no way she'd survive the fall.

"Hey, shh, easy." I said as I approached her.

She hissed a little cute kitten hiss, which was more adorable than frightening, and then mewed helplessly. I had no idea where she'd come from, there was no one above me, and each balcony was separated by thick concrete barriers.

"Easy kid, I'm just going to get you down from there..." I reach out to pick her up.

She tried to back up and lost her footing, all of a sudden she was hanging onto the railing with just one little white paw.

I made a grab for her and snatched her from the jaws of death.

She yelled in fear and protested loudly, but then quickly started purring so loud I thought she was going to rumble her chest off.

I brought her inside and gave her some watered down milk.

She puked it up almost right away.

I ran down to the 24 hour grocery store across the street and got some kitten milk and kitten chow. When I got back she had wiggled her way out of the box I'd put her in and gotten on the top of my fridge some how, and was once again mewing helplessly.

I stared up at her, "What did you do? Teleport?" I chuckled. I pulled her down and fed her the kitten milk.

She purred and then fell asleep purring in my lap.

I guess I had a roommate after all.

#

"She's so adorable!" Abby giggled as Miss Mittens chased the little paper balls I had crumpled up for her the day before. Mittens had been my roommate for two days now. Abby pawed one of the paper balls herself and the cat went ape shit trying to get it. Abby broke into fits of giggles.

I smirked and watched.

"You aren't allergic to cats are you?" I asked.

Abby shook her head no and gently pawed at Mittens, who attacked back with vigor.

"That's good. Because it would be awkward if my apartment gave you hives," I said.

Abby just giggled, at me or the cat, I'm not sure.

"Hey, I have something for you," I said, and fished the thing I had for her out of my pocket.

She turned and looked at me, her greenish-hazel eyes more hazel than green in the afternoon light. My apartment was exposed to the setting sun, so it got very bright there in the afternoon.

I held up a silver key.

Abby bit her lip, but then looked from the key to me.

"What's this?" she asked mischievously.

"A key. To here," I said with a smile.

She got up on her knees from the spot she'd been on the floor playing with the cat. She wiggle-crawled over to kneel in front of me and put her hands on my thighs and kissed me.

"It's not moving in together," I said after the kiss, "But its..."

"A good first step. I get it. Thank you Jack," she said and her face was lit up in a smile.

"Exactly. One of potentially many, but a good one, and the right one I think," I replied and kissed her forehead.

She just nodded and kissed me again.

Then she yelped in pain.

Mittens liked toes. Or maybe it was that she greatly distrusted them.

She shooed the cat away, and we resumed kissing sans cat.

Abby spent the night and we broke the place in properly. Over the next few days I got the job, and we got into a routine. Abby would come and go as she pleased, and was coming more than she was going, and was often pleased; if you get my drift.

Life was good.

#

"Three months?" I said again. I didn't bother to conceal the frustration in my tone.

"It's an incredible opportunity, Jack," Abby said, half pleading, half angry.

"But, three months?" Again. I was fixating.

"Yes, that's how long a ninety day internship is! Do you realize how hard I had to work to get this?" she demanded, her voice raised.

"But it's in New York!" I blurted "You'll be gone for three months in New York!"

She folded her arms tight across her chest.

The internship.

Abby had gone to school for photojournalism. It was more for the photography than the journalism, but it was still her passion. She'd been offered a ninety day internship at Cosmopolitan Magazine for photography. It was unlikely she'd get anything in the magazine, nearly impossible actually, but she'd be working for some of the best in the fashion business, and no one got a job in that industry without putting in the time as a slave - I mean intern.

"Abby, I'm happy for you, really I am," I said, deliberate keeping my voice lower than hers so there would be no screaming, "But it's not even a paid internship, how are you going to support yourself in New York?"

"My Dad..."

I rolled my eyes and stepped away, "Oh God, of course."

"What?" she demanded.

"Abby, when are you going to stop letting your parent's carry you?" I said. Perhaps deflecting from the real issue I was worried about. Not my best deflection.

"When are you?" she fired back.

"Hey! Yes, my mother helped me out to get this place, but I have a job, I'm paying all my bills and saving to pay her back! I'm supporting myself here!" I fired back.

"With a job my dad got you!" she spat back at me.

I grimaced. That was a very sore subject. It was true though. I found out after I'd accepted that they hadn't interviewed anyone else but me. I liked to think that I carried my own weight, and made myself valuable. But all I was doing was writing user manuals for technical guides. It was not exciting work, nor was it what I wanted to be doing. I had started looking for teaching positions again.

"This is temporary," I said coldly.

"So is this!" she exclaimed, "I'm not moving to New York forever, just ninety days! I'll be back before my birthday!"

"You'll miss Kimmy and Todd's baby being born!" I shot back. I admit, it was a desperate shot.

"So what? I told Kimmy, she understands. She was ecstatic for me!" Abby said. Her voice was shrill. Not angry. Shrill.

She sighed and flopped back against the kitchen counter, "I thought you would be too." she said in a sulky, pouting voice. Her rich girl voice.

I dunno, maybe I'd had enough of the spoiled girl attitude, maybe I was just hurt and scared and firing back reflexively.

"We've only been together about three months Abby, do you really think it's a great idea to take off for New York that same amount of time when we're still trying to figure things out?" I said.

"Figure what out Jack? I love you! You love me! What the fuck is there to figure out?" she shouted in exasperation.

I fumed. I had a point. Why wasn't she seeing it. And no bringing up the fact I couldn't see the point I'd been trying to make myself.

She came over to me, and in a last ditch effort to calm things down, put her arms around my neck. I looked away.

"It's only ninety days baby. It'll be fine. I believe in us, okay? I'll get back and we'll have crazy I missed you sex and everything will be fine," she said in softer tones than she'd been using earlier.

"I don't have a choice in this do I." I said, and yeah, my voice was sulky and sour.

She shook her head, "Not really, but if you really do love me, you won't fault me for making it."

Fuck.

She leaned up to kiss me. I only half kissed back.

She sighed and pulled away.

"Fine Jack, be a jerk about it. I'll be at the beach house until I leave next week. I'd love to spend every minute of it with you. But if you're going to be a brat about it, then I'll just see you when I get back," she said and grabbed her purse on her way to the door.

"I have to work," I said sourly.

"Whatever!" She slammed the door on her way out.

Fuck.

Yeah, I kinda messed that one up.

#

I didn't go see her before she left. I didn't even return any of her calls. I always sent them to voice mail and told myself I'd call her back later. Then it was later, and she'd left.

I was miserable. I'd really fucked things up. I shouldn't have let her leave like that, I should have been happy for her. Now it was too late, she was in New York, thinking I hated her; clubbing it up and meeting new people... My guts clenched in jealousy.

I hadn't been this jealous of anyone since my very first infatuation with Beth. Not even with Anna. With Anna I always just felt betrayed, not jealous. But now, in my mind's eye she was club hopping every night, drinking with strange guys, maybe even...

Yeah, you know that song by The Killers, Mr. Brightside? That was my life for the first month she was gone. If that song had been out then I'd have had it on endless repeat.

The worst part was I was too damn proud to just call her. She'd stopped calling me the day after she'd arrived. I got a voice mail saying she'd arrived safe and was starting work the very next day. I hadn't heard anything since. I didn't ask Kimmy or Beth about her. They never brought Abby up the few times we talked.

The truth was I was a mess. I buried myself in my job and started looking for a new one. I had a fire under my ass to get out from under a position I felt was blatant nepotism. It pissed me off for no reason I could fathom and it made me loath an otherwise decent place to work and co-workers. I sat in my apartment after work, drank a lot of beer, watched my collection of noir flicks, and day dreamed about a different time and place. Miss Mittens was my only companion for the first ten weeks Abby was in New York.

Even she thought I was pretty terrible company.

I have no idea if anything would have been different if Abby had left under different circumstances, if we'd been talking on the phone every night, eagerly anticipating her return. I don't. You can never calculate the impact of choices not made, or measure the volume of unspoken words. That's the moral of this whole thing. You just can't ever know how things would be different. Maybe they would have ended up exactly the same, maybe not.

I really just don't know.

But sixty-one days into Abby's ninety day internship. Beth knocked on my door late one night and forever spun my world in a direction it may have been fated to go every since I'd picked up the phone the summer of 1991. Maybe I was doomed right from the very start.

I answered the door. I'd already answered the phone almost ten years ago.

It was late, after midnight on a Friday. I didn't have work the next day. I was about seven beers into the evening, Casablanca was playing in the background. I was really feeling Rick those days. I didn't have a shirt on, because my AC was out again, but the balcony sliding glass door was open, and a slight breeze drifted in from outside.

Beth was standing there in just a pair of jeans, and an old tee shirt. Her hair was down, covering her face, which was unusual. She still looked beautiful.

"Hey Jack," she said softly, and I could see she'd been crying.

I took another drink from my beer and just stepped aside so she could come in.

I really didn't care why she was here. I was in a pretty dark place.

She walked in without a word and looked around my apartment. I hadn't exactly been Mr. Tidy lately with no one coming over to spend the night, so the place was littered with empty beer bottles and trash from take out menus and boxes. She didn't say anything.

"Want a beer?" I asked. I still hadn't said hello yet. I walked to the fridge.