“I don’t fucking know what’s different this time.”
“Yes, you do.”
I think about it. I dig fucking deep. I don’t have to dig too far, though, because this is an awareness I’ve been coming to slowly over the last seven months. “I’ve reached the point where I think I’ll be okay if it fails.”
Constance remains quiet for a moment. “I think you have too.”
Fuck, who would have known that hearing your therapist say those five little words could mean so fucking much to a man?
“Jack,” she says, “You’ve come a long way. I hope you realise this.”
“Some days I do. Most, it feels like there’s still a long fucking way to go.”
“That’s because there is. You’ve got your entire life still to go. This is the journey and the work of a lifetime.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. I know this is true because she reminds me of it often, but still, I fucking hate hearing it every time.
“When I first met you, you were in denial about your alcoholism. You’re not anymore. You’ve also stopped thinking about trying to change the world, and instead you’re working on yourself. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
“What moment?” I have no earthly idea what she’s alluding to.
“The moment you start questioning your future and what changes you might want to make. This line of thinking you’re pursuing is a good one. Keep exploring it.”
“Explore how?” She’s always so fucking vague. I just want to know if she thinks it’d be a good idea for me to pursue writing and producing.
“Think about how your life might look if you’re not acting full-time. If you choose something else to fill your days. Good and bad. Be honest about all the ways things could change for you. Ask yourself if you can manage these changes. Ask yourself if you want to manage them because that’s the important thing here. If making a change isn’t going to add to your life in a positive way, if it won’t bring more to the table for you, I would question it. You’re at a crucial juncture here. Balancing your routine to maintain your non-negotiables with your negotiables is key. And Jack, remember that figuring out when a negotiable turns into a non-negotiable, and vice versa is key too.”
We’ve discussed negotiables and non-negotiables at length because she’s helped me understand that my creative side needs certain things for me to function. At a time when I was questioning whether I could maintain an acting career, Constance pointed out that meeting my creative needs is a non-negotiable for me. I have to meet those needs. At some point, I have to figure out how to make that work for me while staying away from the booze and drugs that are so easily accessible in my world.
We end the call and I think about everything she’s said. There’s a lot to unpack—a whole range of things from the self-validation I fuel through acting, to the fact that achieving validation this way isn’t great for me because when a movie bombs, so can my self-worth—and I decide now is not the time to unpack it. Now is the time to get to work on Jessica’s bathroom.
Jessica: What the hell have you done to my bathroom?
I’m on my way into Grafton when I receive her text and pull my LandCruiser over to reply.
Jack: I like the possession in your text.
Jessica: You won’t like what’s waiting here for you.
Jack: I like everything waiting there for me.
She doesn’t respond to that.
Jack: Eat your lunch.
Jessica: Stop bossing me around.
Jack: That’s not bossing. That’s just stating what you need to do for sustenance.
Jessica: I need a bathroom, Jack.
Jack: I’m working on it.
Jessica: Work faster.
Fuck, I need a whole lot more of this in my life.
I grin as I pull back out onto the road and continue into Grafton. I’m heading there to order what I’ll need for the bathroom reno, and to find some guys to help me. I’m pretty handy and can do most things myself, but I’ll need a plumber and electrician for this job. Jessica won’t be using her bathroom any time soon.
I spend the afternoon after I arrive home from Grafton stripping the bathroom. I get almost half of it done before stopping to cook dinner. Jessica tells me she can’t stop to eat because some stuff just cropped up with work. I’m being gentle with her today because it’s the anniversary of her mother’s death, so I don’t argue with her for more than a minute over this. I also only argue with her for this short time because she’s in a mood. One that’s got nothing to do with her mother. She’s been in this mood for hours. Ever since she discovered I’d started the bathroom renovations. I’ve no fucking idea why this has put her in a mood. She was the one insisting I renovate.
So I make her dinner and leave it in the oven for when she’s ready to eat. I then settle myself on the couch for a night of TV and reading, with some thinking mixed in. My brain hasn’t stopped turning over the conversation I had with Constance this afternoon.
Just after 10:00 p.m., Jessica comes into the lounge room and throws out, “You didn’t get the bathroom finished.”
I do my fucking best not to laugh at her, but don’t quite succeed. This has to be one of the most outlandish things she’s ever said to me. Arching my brows, I say, “Sweetheart, when did you start thinking of me as a superhero?”
Her lips purse. “Where am I going to shower, Jack?”
“I have another bathroom.”
“I’m not using your bathroom.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“Because.” She doesn’t elaborate and gives no indication she intends on elaborating.
“Right. Well, there’s always the outside shower. You can use it.”
“Perfect,” she says immediately.
“You do realise you’re more likely to come across a spider out there, don’t you?”
“And you will regret many things if I do.”
She turns and exits the room as I stare after that ass of hers I can’t get enough of. I listen for when she’s on her way outside and follow her out when I hear the door open.
“I know where the shower is, Jack.”
I ignore her and pull up a chair outside the shower, which is a rustic old wooden ‘room’ that doesn’t even have a proper floor. Jessica will be standing in dirt. Also, there’s no door on this shower, so I face my chair away from it and take a seat.
“I don’t need you to sit out here with me,” she says.
“You will if a spider finds you.”
That steals all her arguments.
Instead, she turns to other topics once she has the water running. “How long do you plan for this renovation to take?”
“I don’t know. It’ll depend on when I can get a plumber and electrician out here.”
“I can help with organising that.”
“I know you can.”
“I’ll take that as a request for help.”
“You should not. You have enough things on your plate.”
“I can add more.”
“Yeah, sweetheart, you can, but I’ve got this handled.”