“I’m okay,” I kept promising her. I felt bad for promising lies, but she was halfway around the world—so there was nothing she could do for me to make everything better. My anxiety and sadness needed to be dealt with by me and only me. No one else could save me.
Well, no one except maybe Joy Jones.
As I was stuck in my house, wandering back and forth in my dining room anticipating yet another night of failed sleep, I heard a tapping at my window. I looked up and saw Joy standing there, throwing something in my direction. She was reaching out of her fully opened window, tossing things in my direction to get my attention while allowing her arm to get extremely soaked.
Uncertain what she was doing, I went and opened my window. “Hi,” I said hesitantly, raising an eyebrow. “Are you okay?” I knew she was in her late eighties, and if there was something to be alarmed about, I wanted to help her the best I could. I knew I wasn’t the most stable person, but if I could somehow build up enough courage to help another, I was all over that idea.
“Hi, sweetheart, yes. I just wanted to see if you’d like to come over for a cup of tea,” she sweetly replied.
“Um, it’s past ten at night, Joy.”
Her smile spread, and she nodded once. “So wine?”
I laughed and agreed. What else was I going to do? Sit and overthink everything for the remainder of the night? I tossed on a raincoat and boots. When I opened my front door and saw the downfall of rain along with the lightning striking above, my chest tightened with nerves.
Just walk, Kennedy. It’s right next door.
But I can’t move.
The more the sky cried, the more tightness gathered in my chest as the sense of panic began building. I should’ve been better at this. I should’ve been able to walk forward without concern. But flashes of the night from the accident swirled in my mind, and I hadn’t been able to push them away.
I can’t do it, I thought to myself, closing my eyes from embarrassment, from shame.
“Yes, you can,” a voice called out. I turned to my left to see Joy smiling my way with the most sincere look. “Come on now, you’re not alone. Just a few steps, and your glass of wine awaits.”
“I… My…” I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply. My hands were beginning to tremble as the fear began filling me up inside.
“It’s okay to be afraid, sweetheart,” Joy commented. “You can be afraid and brave all at the same time. Now, come on. The wine is chilled, and the company is good. Even if you have to hold your breath and dash over here, do it. Then we can breathe together.”
I did as she said. I held my breath and dashed across the yard, wrapping around the sidewalk and sprinting up her footpath. The moment I made it up to her front porch, I ran into her house without being invited in, like a crazed lunatic.
I shivered in her foyer, shaking off the rain, and Joy followed me inside, handing me a towel she already had waiting. “There we are.” She smiled. “That wasn’t so bad.”
If only she knew the speed of my pounding heart. It had been a lot harder than it seemed.
“White or red?” she asked.
“Um, white if you have it.”
“Oh, honey, I have everything. Now, come on, sit down on the sofa and make yourself comfortable. I made a little charcuterie board for us to snack on while we chat. It’s right there on the table if you want to pick at it.”
“Thanks, Joy.”
I took a seat on her sofa and tried to tame my still-elevated heart rate. Her house was very much a home in that everything felt authentic and important. The walls were covered with mismatched frames displaying black and white pictures that highlighted all the beautiful moments in her life. Plus, all of her furniture was vibrant, and there was no shortage of light because different lamps both short and tall were scattered around.
There was a wall of art pieces that were spotlighted and so beautiful. There were paintings and sculptures that radiated such warmth. It was as if I were in a museum looking at masterpieces. Simply breathtaking.
When Joy came back, she had the biggest wine glasses I’d ever seen in my life, and within a split second, she was officially my new best friend. Each glass had to hold at least half a bottle of wine on its own.
I smiled, pleased. “That’s a very impressive glass.”
She handed it over to me. “Some nights call for bigger glasses.”
Hear, hear.
“How did you know I needed a break for wine?” I joked, sipping at probably the best glass of white wine I’d ever had in my life.
“I’ve noticed you pacing back and forth the past few nights. Not that I was spying or anything, but my reading nook is right across from your dining room. I figured you couldn’t sleep during storms.”
“They shake me up a little,” I confessed, seeing no reason to lie about it. “So, thank you. I really appreciate the company. I have to admit, I was going a little stir crazy and on the verge losing my mind.”
“Hmm.” She nodded in understanding. “It’s like that sometimes. Storms can feel like they last forever, but from my experience, I’ve learned that no matter what, they always pass.”
That was a nice thought that I’d have to remember.
“You know what’s nice to know?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“Even behind the rain clouds, the sun is always there.”
“That is a nice thought,” I said. “It’s just sometimes hard to remember.”
She patted my knee. “Trust me, I know. I’m almost ninety, and sometimes I forget, too. Then again, I guess that’s why there’s wine.” She shifted around on the cushion. “So, Jax seems to be drawn to you.”
I puffed out a laugh. “Drawn to me? Not in the least. He actually made it clear that we should keep our distance from each other.”
“Oh, sweetheart”—she waved me off—“Jax didn’t mean that. He’s just hardheaded like my Stanley was. Showing emotions is hard for Jax. He doesn’t come by them all too often, either. I’d been sharing a drink with that boy for many years now, and he still hardly opens up. He acts tough, like a brick wall, but he’s goo, just a big softy. And ever since you’ve come to town, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
My stomach filled with nerves. “How does he look at me?”
“As if you’re something he wants to know more about.”
I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers. “Years ago, he was my best friend. We went to summer camp together for two years, and we wrote letters back and forth to one another for about three years. Then, one day, his letters stopped coming. He just…disappeared.”
Joy’s eyes widened with surprise. “You knew him as a boy?”
“Yes. He was…” I smiled, thinking back on Jax as a kid. “He was the kindest boy I’d ever known. The quietest boy but the kindest.”
“Yes. Those facts haven’t changed over the years. And he knows? That you’re…you?”
“He does, but he told me it would be best if we don’t dive deeper into our history.”
“Oh horseshit,” Joy groaned, making me burst into laughter. “You can’t listen to a dang thing Jax says—you know why?”