My Last Page 3
Carl didn’t answer.
“Is it understood?”
I asked again a little louder.
Carl nodded.
“I'm not giving you the florist shop.”
He really was a jerk.
“This will end tomorrow, so I don’t have to look at your slut every three months to adjust our business accounts.”
He opened his eyes in surprise.
I didn’t give him time to respond.
I went straight to Rose's office.
***
When I entered the doctor's office, I collapsed.
I explained the whole episode.
“My plan was to go there, give him the bracelet, and yes, maybe yell at him a little, but I didn’t plan to smash the desk or the gift. When I arrived and saw that woman he was unfaithful to me with still working there, even after he told me he fired her, I let my feelings get the better of me.”
Rose was making a note in her notebook.
“I've done very well until now, Rose. Very well,” I said, still upset.
She concentrated on me with an expressionless face.
“I've worked very hard at controlling my impulses lately.”
I had my legs crossed and I kept tapping my foot.
“So much effort for what?” I asked desperately. “So this jerk comes and I lose months of work, in a couple of hours?”
“In five minutes, you mean,” the doctor said seriously.
“Even worse!” I raised my voice a little realizing she was right.
Rose sighed.
“Jen.” She took off her reading glasses. “An impulsive person will always be predisposed to react unexpectedly, quickly and inordinately when a particular situation can be threatening. You have to think before a moment of impulsivity.”
“Sounds great in theory, Rose, the practice is a bit more complex.”
“I already know that. It is why you must take into account everything I say. We are trying to teach you to identify these moments so you can stop and think before acting on impulse. That's why I made you follow a plan of self-control and keep a diary.”
“Theory sounds better than practice,” I said in exasperation. “It's very complicated when it comes to Carl. Very complicated. That man brings out the worst in me.”
Rose shook her head.
“It's not Carl who brings out the worst in you; it's the memory of his deception. Like your first husband. The reaction is to the betrayal, not against the person.”
I understood what she meant.
“Well, thank God I have not reacted to them. Otherwise, I would be sentenced to life in prison.”
“Now you understand the gravity of acting on impulse.”
I sighed.
“I know it's not easy for you to control. I'm sure little by little, you can forget what you felt the moment you saw Carl with the other woman. Once that happens, you really won’t feel anything when you see them. You have followed the self-control program very well. I explained there could be relapses but it wouldn’t mean setbacks. Today's episode, write it down in your self-control diary. Acquaint yourself with every word you write, read it as many times as necessary, relive the moment you saw the woman with whom Carl cheated with. All this will lead you to identify the feeling that makes you act impulsively and once you identify it, you can control it.”
That exercise cost me a couple more months.
And many weekly sessions with Rose.
In the end, I got it. I knew it at the first meeting I had with Carl in our manager's office.
I was kind to him, even though he looked at me seductively. I ignored him as a man, completely. The best part, was when his cell phone rang.
He had accidentally left it on the desk while we signed some of the florist's accounting paperwork. When it started ringing with an incoming call, the picture of his secretary-slash-lover-appeared on the screen as a playboy bunny under the name “Bunny”.
Carl frowned, his hands trembled, and he decided to send the call to voicemail when he realized I had seen it.
I imagine, not only did he pale when he realized the idiocy he had just committed. He had just invited me to lunch five minutes earlier. No, his look of panic also indicated that he was waiting for one of my impulsive reactions.
“I can explain,” he said, his voice shaking.
The accountant observed us cautiously, as if waiting for World War III to begin.
I looked at Carl with a smile and said very calmly:
“You have nothing to explain to me, Carl. It's your life; everyone does with their life what they want.”
He had finished signing the papers indicated by the accountant.
“Thank you for everything, Patrick.” I held out my hand and he his. “We’ll see you next quarter.”
Carl still looked surprised.
“Don’t look so scared, Carl,” I said as I walked toward the office door. “This time, I'm not going to break anything.” I turned around to show him a sincere but devilish smile and then said, “I don’t care about anything about you anymore. I've gotten over it.”
I left like a lady from the office. I was ready to get drunk with my best friend while I told her the great achievement I had accomplished.
Almost a year after the divorce with Carl and when the florist was doing its best, my mother died of respiratory arrest.
It all happened so quickly and so unexpectedly. It took me several months to understand my mother was no longer with me.
Holly didn’t leave my side. She took care of everything and supported me the way only a sister could.
She loved my mother as much as I did. Holly's mother was not a good woman and my friend found her ideal of a mother in mine. I knew Mom also loved Holly.
I missed her a lot. She was an excellent mother and a woman who, despite going through hard times, never surrendered to life or to people. She always came out ahead, accomplishing many things others would never accomplish due to her determination and strength. My mother was unique.
My chest swelled with pride at the thought of her. Whenever we could, Holly and I, remembered every good story about her.
A unique woman who left us beautiful memories and an exemplary courage that encouraged us to follow in her footsteps.
Dr. Rose, helped me a lot then. I felt like life was kicking me and I was starting to get fed up with it. Although I considered myself a strong woman, I could not deny in those moments, I began to feel certain negativity in myself leading me to continue visiting Rose every week.
Over time and after overcoming my mother’s death, I continued with occasional consultations despite having decided to remain alone, away from any commitment or feelings towards any man indefinitely.
Rose said it was not good. I was isolating myself for fear of getting hurt again. I couldn’t close myself off from love.
I felt pretty good alone. I was happy to have decided not to love again, nor to be loved, of course.
I lived a relaxed life. If I wanted to go out for drinks, I would. If I wanted to sleep late, I would. If I didn’t want to wash or cook, I didn’t and the best thing was if I wanted to have sex with someone ... I did and then, we each went our separate ways.
It was a life I did not want to give up. Love? It made me suffer and tied me to a lot of responsibilities and doubts I didn’t want to be tied to.
My crazy nights of drinking became more frequent extending until dawn with the candidate on duty. No breakfast, of course.
During this time, I met Michael, my doctor friend. We met one night when I visited a bar with Rick. That night, I wanted to go out drinking and didn’t want to go alone like I did when Holly couldn’t accompany me. She did with pleasure and Sam didn’t care, but I knew Holly wasn’t comfortable because we were not on the same frequency. I wanted to flirt with men and my friend, didn’t because she was happily married.
So when I invited Rick, he readily agreed. We left for the bar.
“Tell me about your family, Ri
ck,” I said after sipping my glass of wine.
Sigh.
“I'm very lucky, Jen. I have a splendid family. We’re very close. I am the youngest of three brothers. My parents love each other as much as the first day they met and they all accepted me without judging me.”
I smiled.
He was a good boy and he was, because he came from a good family.
“I'm glad to know you're accepted as you are.”
We clinked our glasses.
“Boyfriends?” I asked curiously.
“None worth it so far,” he said, but I heard a trace of sadness in his voice.
“Do you want to find one?”
“Who doesn’t want to find love, Jen?” He said with a smile.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I don’t.”
Rick huffed.
“You only say that because you haven’t found a man who respects and values you.”
“Those men don’t exist, for me.”
“What a bunch of bull!” He said excitedly. “It exists for everyone. Some take longer than others to find. I think everything comes at the right time.” He lifted the glass to his mouth and said in a low voice, “like the man who will arrive at our table in about two seconds.”
When I turned around, I saw a man smiling at me. He was thin, with black hair and gray eyes. He was dressed in a light blue uniform and a white coat hung over his shoulder.
Rick excused himself by saying he was going to the bathroom, as expected, we did not see him again for the rest of the night. That night, I ended up naked and tangled in the sheets of a hotel room, panting from pleasure.
Thanks to my friend Michael Green, the doctor.
The little, very little I knew of Michael, told me his profession was the only thing he loved in life and did not want a formal relationship with anyone.
Which I fell for hook, line and sinker because I was looking for the same thing.
So after that night, whenever we fancied, we would meet somewhere to eat and then we would release our sexual tension.
We didn’t ask questions, nor did we look for ways to get closer to each other. I didn’t know what hospital he worked in, and he didn’t know where my flower shop was. Our sexual encounters were in a hotel. We didn’t want ties of any kind.
If I wanted to feel in love, I just had to fall in love with the actor of the moment and have a movie romance with him. It was perfect.
Or at least, I wanted to believe it was for the time.
With the appearance of James...
My life —my whole world— began to be affected with the onset of pre menopause and James.
With hormonal change, my life was unstable, in every way. One day I was happy and the next, I hated everyone. Especially when I started to feel steamy out of nowhere. That made me as evil as a thousand devils.
That is how everything went. One day I was comfortable with the florist and the next, I wanted to rearrange every inch of the place.
I hired a landscaper who had almost gone crazy with my ideas. The poor man did his best not to quit halfway through the job because what we agreed on today, I didn’t like tomorrow and would change the entire design.
In the end, I was satisfied with his work and his patience. We had converted the florist’s central courtyard into a beautiful country garden with a colorful flower display.
After that, I wanted to remodel the flower shop work area and my office. I was seriously flirting with the idea of changing the bathroom also. I decided to tear it out completely to change the pipes and make it totally luxurious.
When Carl decided to give me the abandoned space to open the flower shop, he hired a very traditional decorating company his family had always worked with.
It was not a big company, however the quality of the work was excellent. They also charged competitively. I still had the card, so one morning, I decided to call.
“Good morning, Constructions Bracco,” politely answered a woman.
“Good day. May I speak with Mr. Massimo Bracco?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bracco is not in at the moment. Whom, may I ask is calling?”
“I'm Jen Campbell, owner of The Magic Garden. A few years ago, Mr. Bracco, did some opening repairs on the premises and I'm calling because I would like to contract his services again.”
“Mrs. Jen, if you wish, I can make an appointment with Mr. Bracco's son to come out. He is in charge of the business in Mr. Bracco's absence.”
“Yes, please. Could he come out tomorrow?”
“So soon, he is booked, ma'am, but I'll let you know what day he is available.”
I heard the pages of what I assumed was the company's agenda.
“How about next Monday at 8 a.m.? Is that good?”
“Yes, perfect.”
“Well, Mr. James Bracco will be there then.”
***
The week passed without incident.
Due to the florist shop being extremely busy. The work volume was becoming habitual, besides, I was comfortable with it.
From a party I decorated, came at least three more customers. My reputation was growing with a rapid momentum.
In those days, I worked with two talented women. I never imagined in the future, they could become my partners.
Susan and Caroline the owners of S & C Bakery, the most famous pastry shop in the city.
The client we had in common, wanted us to get in touch because she wanted to maintain maximum contact between the desserts and flower decorations.
It was entering fall, but I still felt like an active volcano. I bubbled with heat to the point I thought I would explode at any moment. People were wearing jerseys while I was still wearing summer dresses.
Clothing-at that point in my life-represented a cruel torture.
So on Monday morning, I decided to go in white shorts with a very light fabric blouse and retro sandals with cork soles. Of course, on the street several people stared at me like I was an alien.
That's how I got to the florist, with a big cup of coffee for Rick and an iced tea for me.
“Mr. Bracco is waiting for you in your office.”
My eyes widen in surprise. I didn’t expect him to be fifteen minutes early.
I opened the office door and was surprised by what greeted me.
A blond man with bright blue eyes was sitting on the tiny couch in my office.
He stood and stretched out his arm.
“Jen,” he smiled at me, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m James Bracco.” He gave my hand a slight squeeze as we shook.
I briefly enjoyed the contact without saying a word.
He eyed me curiously during my strange silence.
“My pleasure,” was the only thing I could form in my brain while completely scanning him.
Tall, thin but sturdy, with tanned skin, soft hands and a smile to die for.
I placed my things on my desk.
“The reason I called, Mr. Bracco,” he interrupted me.
“Please, call me James,” he said, looking at me, but walking toward the bathroom. “The leak in the bathroom is urgent. You need to repair it before the wall comes down. I was doing an analysis of the changes to be made, this is the detailed list.”
He handed me a paper with an extensive list. Longer than I expected.
“Efficient Mr. Bracco. James. Very efficient.”
I smiled.
“Rick was informing me on the changes you plan to make while we waited for you to arrive.”
“I see,” I said in surprise. I turned on the extra air conditioning unit I had in the office.
He stared at me with a smile.
“You’re that hot?” He said sarcastically.
“Nothing that that thing can’t fix,” I pointed to the air-conditioning unit; “and this,” I said as I pulled out the beautiful fan I had recently purchased.
He laughed loudly.
“Menopause, I suppose.” He cocked an eyebrow and a chill ran through my body.
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I smiled embarrassed.
“Pre Menopause,” I clarified. “It's like being a teenager again.”
He laughed again.
I checked the list again.
I had the money due to the divorce with Carl. Yes, I got half of the house. It was enough money to not to have to worry-for a long time-about economic hardship. However, I didn’t want to touch a penny of it. That money was destined to return to Carl along with another large sum I had devoted to saving for some time. Carl salivated for money ... and I had to make a very, very tentative sum in order for him to give me his half of the business. So I couldn’t do all the repairs listed on the handsome and efficient James’ list.
“James, I don’t think I can afford all this at this time. I think we are going to have to repair what is most urgent and then, we will see about the rest. Suddenly, the most important thing was the bathroom and the area for creating the flower arrangements.”
“Okay.” He opened the agenda in his hands. “We could start in two weeks. I am finishing some repairs at another company and I have all my staff there. We are a small company and if I don’t follow my father's orders to the letter, it’s likely I’ll be out of work.”
“Your father is an intelligent man, James.”
“I would say, traditional.”
Just then, one of the ceramic tiles covering a part of the immense seepage in the bathroom wall fell and shattered into pieces.
James immediately went over to it.
Sigh.
“I'm afraid this won’t wait fifteen days.” He stood up leaving the bathroom. “I'll have to do it personally.”
“As long as you know what you're doing, I have no problem,” I said, smiling.
The truth was, it didn’t bother me —not at all— to have him doing the repairs himself. It would be like extra motivation to go to work.
“Well, I will order the materials I need to repair the leak today, and soon, we will establish the bathroom’s new design. We can play with the space. At the end of the afternoon you will be receiving the materials I need to start working. I will be here tomorrow morning at 7 am. Is that okay with you?”
Umm. 7 am? Didn’t the man sleep?