Unwrapping Jordan Page 3

  “Because like I said, ya mother invited ya down for Christmas last year, and a bunch of holidays have rolled by with no signs of ol’ Jordan. Why would this be any different? I need you to stop pussyfootin’ around, and tell me what’s eating you. You act like ya hate it here. We have to practically give a kidney to get you to come, and now, boom! You’re here with only a twenty-four-hour notice.”

  “I just needed to come home.”

  Grandpa sized him up from the corner of his eye. The old man picked up his reading glasses from the arm of the chair and put them on, causing his peepers to look three times larger than usual. Grandpa had piercing blue eyes with a thousand crow’s feet. He’d worked hard practically his entire life at the post office. He raised five children with dear Grandma – four sons and a daughter. One son, his Uncle Nico, who’d he looked up to and adored as a kid, was dead going on fifteen years, buried close to Grandma in the Granary Burying Ground.

  “What are ya driving?” Grandpa asked with a smile.

  “The rental car, or my ride back in Cali?”

  “Back in Cali.”

  “White Mercedes-Benz. E-Class.”

  Grandpa tapped his fingers on the tapestry of the La-Z-Boy, and then gave a few approving nods. He’d told the old man about his ride a million times, but he was simply making conversation. He took another taste of his cider and looked around the all-too-familiar living room, chock full of weathered family photos on the walls and antique furniture passed down through generations. A gold-framed black and white photograph of a young Grandma in her twenties sat right above the fireplace. Beautiful woman. Sable hair, olive skin, and dark brown, almond-shaped eyes.

  “So, how ya been? Going out and getting any fresh air?” Jordan asked, breaking up the awkward silence.

  Grandpa kicked off his slippers and tapped his feet on the brown and beige rug, then scoffed at the television. “A bunch of tourists and idiots out there now.” He waved his hand dismissively. “They treat us like we’re a zoo, some freakshow.”

  “Hey, it helps the economy I guess. I didn’t notice that too much, ya know, tourists botherin’ the locals. What’s going on?”

  “They expect all of us to start speakin’ Italian at their request, like we’re some kiddie prize stuffed in a vending machine. They wanna see us servin’ slices of pizza and then take photos of us and post ’em on that damn social media shit. We’re not some attraction. It’s fucking disrespectful. I’m sick of it.” The old man reached for his cigar resting on the ashtray and puffed on it, then put his slippers back on, as if needing a bit of comfort. “I just go out to get my groceries, my blood pressure medicine, new socks and underwear, see the doctor, the dentist, and that’s it. Nothin’ good outside.”

  “What’s that got to do with ya taking care of yourself and getting some fresh air in your lungs, Grandpa? It’s stuffy in here.” Jordan noticed the beige and brown blackout curtains pulled closed. “It’s a scientific nightmare in here, ya know? A breeding ground for germs. I should call disease control. You’re living in a Petri dish from the damn heat alone, no fresh ventilation at all. It’s smoky and smoggy. You’ve already fought cancer once, and now here ya are, holed up in the house with ya cigars, barely any light and drinking apple cider, beer and cheap wine all day.”

  “Are you finished? Don’t come in here judging me with your silly surfer boy L.A. ways. Cowabunga, dude, or whatever you all say.”

  Jordan chuckled and shook his head, glancing back at the television that now featured some deodorant commercial.

  “I don’t surf. I’m not that kind of guy. Not interested in it.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’ll tell you what you are. You’re still a DeMarco from your father’s side, and a Romano from ya mother’s.”

  “I am. Proudly. Never denied it. Just worried about ya, is all. Want you to live forever.”

  Grandpa’s eyes hooded and his lips drooped at the corners. “I’m worried about you, too.”

  Silence stretched as they stared at each other.

  “Look, I’m not going to stay long. I’ll be back over soon, all right? Gotta go see Mom and Jennifer. Mom will have a fit if she finds out I came here first, regardless of why. I was passin’ by you first. It just made more sense.” Honestly, he also wanted to see the old man ASAP. Grandpa had a way of putting him at ease, just by his mere presence. He’d practically run from L.A. after what had gone down. He just needed a break, some time to clear his head. Taking a last sip of the delicious cider, he set the glass down on the coffee table.

  “Twenty-one minutes this time.” The old man checked his wristwatch with a grimace, then got to his feet. Jordan put his black bomber jacket back on, feeling his shirt sticking to his skin from the heat in the house, and gave his grandfather another hug.

  “I’ll pick ya up for Thanksgiving, okay? No need to drive or call a ride. Bring you over to Mom’s house. She said everyone is going to be there. Does that work for you?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” Grandpa walked him to the door, then pulled him from the neck and kissed his cheek. “Be careful out there, Jordan.”

  “I won’t be speeding in the snow. I know my way around some ice. Old habits die hard.”

  “Not talkin’ about the weather.” And then, the old man waved and closed the door.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Yesterday has Returned to the (Christmas) Present

  “And this here is Egypt Callahan. She’s our Web Queen, as we call her. Spider Woman,” Garret said with his usual cheeky grin and a chuckle. “She takes care of our designing visual frameworks and user interfaces, social media sites, low fidelity wireframes… full scale visual systems and so much more. She wears many hats, and wears them well. We’re lucky to have her as the Head Web Designer of Ashton and Ford.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rainsford.” Egypt stood from her desk and extended her hand. She’d worn her favorite black suit, the one that accentuated her curves, but still remained professional.

  “Likewise, Egypt. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.”

  “Thank you. We’ve all been looking forward to spending some time with you and exploring ways in which we can assist one another.”

  “Amazing. I hope to see you at the dinner this evening. You will be there, correct?” the older gentleman said, his incredibly sexy British accent tingling her ears and his impeccable navy suit a feast for the eyes.

  “Of course. I will definitely be there.” They said their goodbyes, and off the two men went.

  Her boss, Garret, was taking the CEO of Organic Logistics on a tour of their company. The distinguished stranger had come all the way from Leeds, in North England. Garret had been nervous for weeks regarding the visit, wanting to pull out all the stops for he wished to work a deal with the business giant that could give them a strong foothold in the United Kingdom.

  When she was certain the two had cleared the area, she promptly got up, quietly closed her door, and sat back down at her desk. With the holidays practically tumbling upon her, there wasn’t much time to spare. She had projects upon projects, and it was up to her to get all the updates to their central website, as well as their remote locations, completed before the end of the year. And boy was there a heap of them.

  These brochures have to be updated ASAP. I should send Teresa an email right now. I emailed over the new artwork that was approved, and I need to have them online by next week, at the latest.

  Time ticked by, during which she managed to get out of two unnecessary meetings to continue working at her desk. Lunch consisted of a vending machine bag of chips and her favorite soup she’d brought from home – chicken veggie. She wolfed it down, the aroma filling the air, a scent that ushered in memories of comfort. Belonging. Precious time spent with her best friend who’d passed a couple years prior.

  I miss you, Erin. Your birthday just passed. Now here come the holidays. It’s going to be hard having Christmas without you. All of your practical jokes, silly gag gifts and sage wisdom. I know
it’s selfish of me to have wanted to keep you when you’d gotten sick, but I can’t help it. I could always come to you when I had a problem, and we had such great times together.

  She pushed back the emotions and focused. After a few minutes of her nose to the grindstone, her personal cellphone rang. She was in the mood to disregard it, too, so she hesitantly looked at the caller ID, ready to hit the IGNORE button. It was Andre.

  Andre was her ‘play cousin,’ as they used to call each other as children. Their fathers had been good friends and their birthdays were mere days apart. Despite Andre moving away from Boston years prior, first to join the army, then for various vocational opportunities, they managed to stay in touch over the years and drew even closer when he’d returned for good. Andre was a cool, athletic, fun-loving, and outgoing guy; everyone enjoyed him. Oddly enough, he’d been pretty shy as a kid in elementary school.

  “Hey, buddy!” she said, putting extra cheer in her tone. “What’s up?” She kicked back in her office chair, welcoming the distraction.

  “Just checking in on you. Hadn’t heard from you in a minute.”

  “Yes, I know. Andre, I’ve been so damn busy it isn’t even funny. These people have me working my ass off. Wasn’t much there to begin with. I wish I could take some of these boobs and move them there instead.” She sighed, her rant met with a burst of laughter.

  “Stop it! I see you like a sister so I try to not look at your ass, but it’s not flat. At all. Trust me. You’re being silly.”

  She smiled at his words.

  “I honestly don’t care about my behind, you know that. Just kidding.” She yawned. “So yeah, work really has me occupied, but hey, they pay me well, so who am I to complain?”

  “Right. I know you love your job, but come on now. All work and no play makes Egypt a dull girl. You gotta live a little. Like you used to.”

  “Dull? Never me. You must have me confused with someone else.” She caught her reflection in her silver stapler, noting how the new hair gel she’d purchased and tried out that morning had left a white cast along her hairline. She grimaced. I bet everyone has noticed this crusty mess, and not one person said a thing to me.

  ‘Hey, Egypt, did someone slap a powdered donut in your face?’ I have to clean this crap off as soon as I can. I look like I’m turning into an alligator, but only at the top of my head. This is the last time I buy something off the recommendation of a social media influencer just trying to get coins to endorse a product. You’d think I’d know better.

  “So, what are your Thanksgiving plans this year, Andre? You never told me. Visiting North Carolina again?”

  “I will definitely not be with Veronica’s family this year. She’s not even going, either. She’s eating with my family this time around.”

  “Oh, why the change of plans?”

  “We just don’t feel like driving to North Carolina right now. All the packing, gas money, then shelling out funds for a hotel since last time we stayed at her Aunt Ti’s, we had no privacy, and all they did was try to use her as a maid and cook. Not only that, she and I both have way too much going on, and besides, they could come up here if they wanted to, but they never do.” She could hear the aggravation in his voice.

  “I completely understand. It seems you all have bent over backwards to be accommodating, but they haven’t returned the favor. Besides, I’m certain your family is grateful to have you finally to themselves for once.”

  Andre went on to talk about some changes he was working on at the gym. He was a personal trainer and also taught online workout classes. In addition, she was helping him set up a new website from which to sell his services and a few products he had in the works.

  He was a damn good trainer, but he was also known to be difficult. He wanted results, and if his client almost died getting that eight-pack they paid him for, then so be it. She and Andre had dated briefly when she was a sophomore in college, an incident they both agreed was a mistake, but managed to remain friends after the three-week failed attempt. They were now so close, she couldn’t imagine anything coming between them.

  “Now, for the real reason I called.” He chuckled.

  “Oh, you didn’t call to see about me?” She began to pick at the white, dry film along her sideburn, her fingernail making quick work of removing it. When white flakes fell onto her dark desk, she felt both a sense of satisfaction and disgust.

  “Of course I did!”

  “Liar. You gossip more than me and my friends combined.” She chortled as she grabbed a wet wipe from her desk drawer and cleaned up the mess she’d made. “You must have something hot, right off the press.”

  “Nope.”

  “What is it then? Oh, I know. It’s about that time of year, isn’t it? The answer is no.”

  “No?”

  “N.O. I am not cooking macaroni and cheese for you again so you can take it to work, then say you were the one who baked it and receive all the accolades. Fool me once, shame on me, and you know the rest of the saying.”

  At this, he burst out laughing. Everyone in their circle knew she baked the best lobster macaroni and cheese in town. It was her signature dish.

  “Egypt, that was like ten years ago!”

  “Six. It was six years ago, dear.”

  “You can’t let it go.” He guffawed. “I said I was sorry for taking the credit.”

  “You were only sorry because you got caught. Your ex-wife called me and gave me the 411. Y’all had just separated, and she found out what you’d been up to. Showin’ off at your job.”

  “…Now you see why she’s an ex. Traitor,” he teased. “You need to understand though, Egypt, it was hard to not just say it was mine. People assumed I had made it before I could correct them. I’ve told you this a million times.” She rolled her eyes, suppressing the urge to laugh. “See, things soon ballooned out of control. Women thought I could cook after I’d brought it in. The numbers to call them were coming out the wazoo.”

  “They didn’t want you, Andre. They just wanted a discount on catering.” They both burst out laughing. “All right, so what did you have to tell me?”

  “So, guess who I ran into at the gym this morning?”

  “Who?”

  “My old football colleague. Jordan DeMarco.”

  A swell of heat hit her chest and face at that instant.

  “Do you remember Jordan?”

  She swallowed, blinked a few times, then glanced at her closed door.

  “Uh, yes. I remember him.” She made quick work of removing the cap from her water bottle and downing half of it within seconds.

  “Remember those rumors about you havin’ a crush on him back in high school?” He chuckled, as if it were the silliest idea he’d ever heard. “Just crazy! That’s high school for ya. Big rumor mill. So, I saw him because he was there workin’ out this morning. Not with me; he was solo. He moved to California after high school.”

  “Yes, I know. I mean, I’d heard he’d moved to the west coast.”

  This was one of the few secrets she’d kept from Andre. Hell, everyone. When she was a junior, and Jordan a senior, they walked the same route to school. Over time, they began to walk together – two unlikely people no one, including apparently Andre, would figure would even greet one another, let alone discuss anything of importance. They’d forged a secret friendship of sorts, and then, she realized she had feelings for him. Deep feelings. It was one of the worst and best times of her life. Her heart understood what happened, but her mind sure as hell did not. I never want to feel that humiliation again. “So, did you two talk much? What’s he been up to?”

  “Yeah, we spoke for like a whole thirty minutes. He’s here to spend Thanksgiving with his family. He’s like you, a damn unicorn. Never been married, no children. Nothing.” Her heart started to beat faster. She fought the urge to curse Andre out or say, ‘Thank you for the compliment.’ “Said he hadn’t seen his family in a number of years. He doesn’t travel much to Boston anymore due to work having
him tied up. So, I guess he’s busy, like you. You know he and I played football together, right?” Andre proceeded to go down a long line of mundane memory lane details regarding his over-glorified football days. She didn’t give a shit about any of it, but she grinned and bore it. He was her friend after all. Yeah, yeah… get back to Jordan. “…And that’s when we won against Cristo Rey…”

  Egypt threw in a few ‘wows,’ ‘you don’t say?’, and ‘mmm hmmms,’ for good measure. She had to play it cool. Outright asking about Jordan would prove that she not only remembered the bastard as much as her own first, middle and last name, but also that she still thought about him from time to time. Sometimes, he even haunted her dreams.

  “…And so, anyway, he’s here in town. Looks great, too. I sure as hell didn’t need to give him any pointers for tackling those weights. If anything, it could’ve been the other way around.” Humor laced his tone.

  “Oh? He still has his football physique?” She felt herself getting hotter as she reached for her shirt collar and toyed with it, pinching the thin white material between her forefinger and thumb. She regretted asking as soon as the question rolled off her tongue, for she was met with staggering silence.

  “Well, yeah, but he’s bigger now. In even better shape,” Andre finally answered. “He says there’s a gym at his job so he utilizes that, but apparently he works for some big company out in L.A. where they cultivate software development and new technology.”

  “Listen to you, using the big words!” she teased. She could almost envision the man rolling his eyes as he went on with the rest of his story.

  “I believe he said his expertise is creating and implementing software to sell to the various security agencies and financial firms, in an effort to combat pecuniary and extortion cybercrimes. High-tech shit. How’s that for big words?”

  He went into an electronic related field, too? A good one, I might add… Wow. Now that’s a surprise. Actually, now that I think about it, no it’s not. Not at all.