Jack & Lucy

Lucy

I told myself that I had to calm down as soon as I crossed the threshold of Jack's house. I felt off all evening and my anxiety felt like a monster in my head that I just couldn't shake. Just hiding in every corner of my mind, poking his head out at every thought I had. 

Missy's words sat on my chest like a fifty-pound weight the rest of my shift and Jack looked like he wanted to punch something as he flew through his closing duties. I purposely tried to leave before him so I had a few minutes to collect myself before he came home. I blurted out my feelings to him and had to wait hours for a response. When he finally called me, I could hear something was off in his voice. I tried to shove the anxiety in my throat down during our brief conversation and I know him telling me he loved me was him reassuring me that we were alright. I wasn't ready to say it back, so I am glad he hung up before my silence strained our relationship more than it already was. 

I knew my anxiety monster wasn't going to let me lay down and calm myself in bed, so I decided to cook something shortly after arriving home. I needed something to do with my hands, but I was too tired to bake. I quickly realized Jack doesn't cook much since he only had oats, pasta, granola, and an array of stale cereals. I was pleased to find an almost empty bottle of olive oil and a packet of Italian seasoning, so this wasn't going to be the blandest bowl of noodles I had ever whipped together. 

I am just tossing the noodles in oil when I hear the garage door open. My stomach clenches and I tell my monster to fuck off. I need to confidently face Jack and just get to the bottom of this whole Maggie business. I also just need to decide if I can trust Jack enough to continue on in this relationship or if I need to jump ship.

The door from the garage slams shut and Jack quickly appears in the corner of the kitchen. I can't read his expression. It could be pissed the hell off or on the verge of tears.

"Hi," I say with the metal tongs frozen in my hand. 

"Hi," he says back and his eyes go to the pot. "I'm starving."

"You're not stocked up enough on anything to ever come home starving."

"I know, I almost had to make you pasta for breakfast yesterday." 

"Seeing that your lucky charms are basically dust at this point, that makes sense."

He gives me a small smile and slowly moves to the barstool. He drops onto it and I think he's dumping his emotions along with his elbows onto the island with how he plops them on it. 

"How was the rest of work?" I ask gently as I drop a bundle of noodles into his blue ceramic pasta bowl. I stick a fork into the noodles and then slide the pathetic dish over to him. 

"Not great," he confesses and he swirls his fork around until he has a clump of noodles ready to be shoved into his mouth. I wince as I prepare my own and then say, "I think Maggie was after you tonight. Missy thought so too." 

"Oh, she was. Her keying my car confirmed that." I drop the tongs and they bounce off the tile flooring with a loud clang. 

"What? Your car was keyed?" I ask in shock. "How do you know it was Maggie?"

"I had Missy show me the security footage," he says matter-of-factly. I snatch the tongs off the floor and drop them in the sink. I turn to face Jack and my hands stay planted on the counter behind me. 

"Jack...I don't know what to say. I am shocked." I tell him, trying to find something to say. I cannot believe Maggie would do that. Or maybe I can. I know she once slashed a guy's tires who groped her while she was cocktail waitressing. 

"Well, you might have more to say about how I handled it," he starts and I push myself off the counter as he adds, "I quit." 

"What?" I gasp. "You quit? Did you call Maggie?"