As Friday morning comes, I struggle with how on edge I'm feeling.
Not only do I have nerves about the visit with my dad and Donna today, but I have a lot of worries about Jamie's launch party too. I'm very aware that the whole day could go amazing, and I'm reminding myself of it constantly, but it's hard to escape the thought that it could also go really really bad.
Yesterday I took the dress Jamie wanted me to wear to the dry cleaners so that it would look as good as he expected, but unfortunately they found a small tear in the skirt as they were cleaning it. Not one that could be easily repaired either.
Once it was pointed out to me, it couldn't be unseen, there was no way I could wear it.
That was my first warning sign.
I rushed out after work at the school yesterday to find something. I found a nice one that wasn't all that expensive, and was similar enough to the one that was damaged, so I figured it was my safest bet.
I didn't bother mentioning it to Jamie. I just left it hanging in our room last night, and when he didn't say anything after he saw it, I figured it was fine. At this point it has to be, because the party is tonight. I bet he won't even be able to tell the difference between one black dress or another anyway, he just about realises when I get my hair done.
Carol has been very sweetly checking in with me all week, making sure I'm not over thinking this lunch with my dad, and this morning was no exception. She messaged me not long after I woke up to make sure I handn't backed out of it.
"You're taking positive steps," she repeated for the hundredth time. I should record her and market her words as a self help guide.
I spent a lot of the morning procrastinating, before I left for Dads house, but I did get a small bit of practice in on my violin too. It always helps to keep me grounded when I need it, a point I often forget until I pick it up and play again.
Stopping off at a garden centre on the way, I pick my dad up a plant like always, but I carefully consider my choice this time. We don't need another macaroon incident that's for sure.
I cast my eye on a peace lily that seems perfect. It has symbolysim for purity, and healing, but also has an association with the white flag, which is a signal for truce. I couldn't possibly have found anything more appropriate for us and our situation, so I get it and sit it carefully into the footwell of my passanger seat before I set off again.
As I pull into the drive way, my dads house seems eerily quiet. The first thing I notice is the same rusty porch swing that catches my attention everytime I pull in. It looks like it could collapse right off its hinges if anyone dared to perch their butt onto it. Dad is quite houseproud, he likes to take care of the place. The lawn is always perfectly manicured with seasonal flowers under the windows, the house is repainted whenever it starts to look weather worn, and theres never a single weed on the driveway. He enjoys the work, and it keeps him occupied too, but that porch swing was where my mom relaxed most evenings reading her books, and it's remained untouched ever since she last sat on it.
If I close my eyes, I can still see her there, swinging away, with one foot tucked under her leg, as the other hangs down, bearly tipping the deck panel beneath her as she pushes herself back and forth, reading some romance novel. Sarah wants dad to replace the swing, but I'm glad he's never touched it. It was her place, it still is.
Staring out at the house, I realise just how lonely my dad must have been all of this time on his own. I haven't been here without Sarah and the kids running around in a very long time, so seeing it like this makes me all the more grateful that he has someone now.
Speaking of Donna, she has the front door open and is out on the porch before I've even reached it. Her warmth and happiness hit me right in the chest. She's exactly what this house needs.
"Izzy! It's so great to see you," she says.
She holds her arms out to me and I realise she must be going in for a hug. Now this I am certainly not used to at my dads house, but I open my arms up in return all the same.
"You too Donna, maybe you can help him keep this one alive?," I say, holding up the plant that I brought.
"I'll certainly give it a shot sweetheart," she says. "Come on in, your dad's in the kitchen." She takes the plant from my hand and ushers me inside where it's cozy.
Dad is right where she said he's be, standing in the kitchen preparing a salad. Is that a…? Yes, it is! He's wearing a floral apron. The very man who wouldn't use a pink sponge to clean the dishes because it was 'too girlie'. I need to find out what it is that Donna puts in his coffee.
"Hi Dad," I say, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.
"Isobel, good to see you." He nods his head my direction in his usual manner.
Donna glances between us perplexed.
"Really?," she says. "That's how you greet each other? Jeeze Charlie give the girl a hug for crying out loud."
Oh my, Dad and I haven't hugged in years, is now really the time to do it?
"Well?," she asks, holding her hands out between us as we remain frozen.
"Oh, no that's okay," I say, attempting to brush her suggestion off. "Lets take one thing at a time."
I notice my dads silent sigh of relief, looks like he's as uncomfortable about the idea as I am.
"Nonsense," Donna says, "it's like I told Charlie, it starts with a hello, so make it a good one."
She waits expectantly for a moment, and when there's still no movement from either of us, she quirks her eyebrow, dashing her eyes between us. As a mom to three boys, Donna has somehow figured out how to strike fear into hearts with that single expression. Dad and I quickly move toward each other without any further resistance.
It's stiff and it feels forced, but here I am, with my arms wrapped around my dad, and he's hugging me back just as clumsily and cold. It's a start.
There's some casual chatter between us in the kitchen while we wait for lunch. Donna asks me how my birthday went and hands me a small gift. I tell her about the day out I had with Sarah and the surprise trip to Vegas from Jamie. I catch dad roll his eyes when I mention that last bit, but I choose to ignore it.
I ask how both of them have been, how Donnas boys are, and her dogs, anything that might keep the conversation from hitting a lull. I intensionally mention work at the school so that my dad can hear, I know he'll at least be happy about that.
Just as we're all out of updates for each other, dad checks on our lunch in the oven. It's a chicken pie, his moms recipie. The smell of the pasty makes my mouth water. This was always Dads favourite thing to make, and one of my favourite things to eat too. The way he looks at me as he slides the tray out to check on it tells me that he remembered that much.
It's not quite ready yet, so we make our way to the living room to wait. I cant remeber the last time I was in here, but it looks great.
"You changed the decor in here," I note as I look around. "It's gorgeous."
I imagine it's a Donna update. The place has been the same since my mom was here, so I can't blame her for wanting to give it a fresh look.
I take a seat on a two seater couch, identical to the one across from me that Donna and Dad are now seated on, with only the coffee table separating us.
"Coffee Izzy?," Donna offers.
There's tea, coffee and a selection of cookies spread out in front of me. She's really gone all out here.
"I'll get it, thanks Donna."
The room sinks into silence, with only the sound of my spoon scraping the cup as I stirr echoing. I place it down on the sauser and go ahead and break the ice.
"So," I say, looking from my dad to Donna, not sure who I should be talking to. Donna nudges my dad with her elbow, it's supposed to be subtle I'm sure, but it makes him flinch.
"So, umm yes, Isobel… uhh," he clears his throat. The colour of his shirt looks a crisp white next to the purple blushes that are now creeping up his neck. It's like the day he introduced Donna to me all over again. He can't quite seem to get a sentence togegher.
"I wanted to... uh, well, I wanted to talk to you about some stuff... to do with um… to do with..."
"To do with mom?," I finish for him, if I didn't I'd be here all night.
"Your mom," he agrees softly. Its clear in the way he says it so affectionately that he's still missing her, he probably always will be, just like Sarah and I.
He says nothing more after that. Choosing instead to sit there looking a mixture of sad and angry while picking at the skin around his thumbnails. Now I know where I get it from.
Donna senses his discomfort, and try's to help things along.
"Your dad has been wanting to do this for a while now Izzy," she says. "He explained to me the kind of relationship you two have, and honestly I didn't believe how bad it was until I saw you two together a few weeks ago. It was actually the first time I'd seen him so closed off. And here we are again huh?" She laughs it off, swaying to her side and bumping Dad so he smiles along with her. I didn't realise he only got like this with me, I thought this was just how he was.
"So, Izzy," Donna continues. "Your dad, he's been wanting to tell you a few things, things that have been weighing on him a great deal… Charlie?" Donna looks to dad again, willing him to take over.
Running his hand down over his moustache, dad takes a deep breath. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world right now. I thought I'd be more than ready to talk, but he's making this so difficult.
"Donna's moving in," he mumbles, finally parting with some words, but not any that I was expecting.
"Oh? That's... wow, that's great," I say, smiling over at them. "I'm really happy for you both."
I am genuinely happy for them of course, but I'm also left wondering where my mom comes into it, or why I'm even here now.
"Charlie," Donnas voice holds a hint of warning. "That's not what you wanted to speak to her about."
Dad continues talking, completely ignoring her point.
"All of your moms stuff is still here, keepsakes and jewellery and the likes," he says. "We thought we'd ask if you wanted to take anything. I won't be getting rid of her things, they're just going to storage, but you never really had anything of hers so..."
Im lost, why is he talking to me about this now?
"You want me to go through moms stuff? Today?," I ask.
"No," Donna clarifies, but at the same time Dad says "Sure."
Now I'm really confused, it looks like I'm the one who's going to have to take that proverbial bull by its horns.
"Dad, I already have some of moms things, but I'll be happy to go through the rest another time, maybe with Sarah."
Donna gives me a small nod of encouragement, so I solider on.
"I thought that I was here today to talk about you and I? About the kind of relationship we have? Do you think we could do that?," I ask.
There's more silence from my dad as he stares blankly at me, but I refuse to fill it for him again, so I wait. He's going to have to talk to me, one way or other.
"Charlie," Donna tries again. "Your girl is sitting right there, you wanted this. You just have to open your mouth and speak to her."
We wait, but still nothing comes, this is pointless. I'm feel just about to give him a piece of my mind when he suddenly stands up, placing his hands on his hips as he looks down at Donna.
"I'm sorry," he sighs, "I'm not ready for this." And with that, he walks on out the door back towards the kitchen, leaving Donna and I gobsmacked. She makes moves to go after him, but I quickly stop her.
"Donna don't," I say, forcing a smile, but I know there's already little pools forming in my eyes. "If he's not ready, then thats it. There's no point forcing it."
She shakes her head. "No, ever since the day your mom passed he's been a bad father to you, he says it all the time. He talks about wanting to fix things with you all the damn time! And now he gets the chance and what? Nothing?"
"It's just how we are," I insist.
"You've waited long enough Izzy. I won't have it. That's not the man I know out there."
"Please Donna, I don't want to cause any trouble between you two. It's complicated, for both of us, I've been a nervous wreck all morning, I know where he's coming from and-."
"Stop trying to justify it Izzy!," she cuts me off. "You know this isn't right, it wasn't right when you were a kid, and its not right now. I won't allow this to carry on, not while I'm here."
Donna begins to get upset and I'm not sure what to do other than to pat her shoulder. Gosh this is a nightmare. Before I realise it, there's tears streaming down both of our faces and she only seems to be getting angrier.
"You wait right here," she says sternly, "I'll go talk to him."
I'm honestly not sure what she thinks she can do, but I suppose she must have some sort of pull with him if she got him to wear floral, so I do as she asks, watching her wipe away her tears before purposefully marching her way out of the room after him, all guns blazing.
I want to sit down and wait, I want to let Donna do what she needs to do. But this house is old, meaning it's almost impossible not to hear most of the conversation between her and my dad, and it's not good.
"Donna, don't!," my dad says angrily, "I said it's not the time."
"When is the time Charlie? You've been taking about this forever!"
"I can't, please Don', leave it alone. Tell Isobel to head on home."
"The girl is in your living room crying Charlie! You owe her this. Don't mess it up, you wont get this chance again!"
I can't fully hear what he says to her next. Something about her pushing him into things. The only noise that reaches me now is the sound of the back door opening and slamming shut again. I stand to look out and see what's going on, but seconds later, my dads truck whizzes by the window of the living room, throwing up a trail of pepples and smoke behind it.
I look on as he stears it out of the driveway, turning left, not even checking for any oncoming traffic. That stupid man. Is that how bad being here with me was? That he literally had to flee his own house in order to get away from me?
My mind is in so much shock that I don't even notice Donna is back in the room until I feel her warm hand touch my shoulder.
"I'm sorry Izzy," she says, her sobs catching in her throat.
"Oh no," my hand waves through the air, "it's fine, you tried, don't worry about it." My voice breaks into almost a silent whisper as I try to hold back more tears.
Donnas lip quivers, as does my own, and then she quickly wraps her arms around me as I finally break down.
Why the hell does he hate me so much? How can he still believe that the crash was my fault?
I must be sobbing away on poor Donna for a good few minutes before I realise I've soaked the arm of her shirt.
"Oh gosh," I say, "I'm so sorry Donna." My cheeks flush as I wipe at her top, but it's wet, so I'm clearly not really helping at all.
"Don't you worry about that," she says, brushing my hand away, "come on, sit down here."
Donna directs me to the couch and sits herself next to me, draping her arm over my shoulder.
"He will come around Izzy... he just needs to figure out what he wants to say first. Maybe in a few weeks you can come back and we can try this again?"
I'm not so sure she's right, nor am I sure that I want to do this to myself again either.
As I contemplate it, I look over and spot a picture of Sarah, Dad and I up high on a shelf across the room. Judging by the trees behind us, we're at Shadow Lake. Dad used to bring us with a few of his friends and their kids a couple times a year when we were younger. I go over and take it down so I can get a better look.
Dad has his arm wrapped around Sarahs shoulder in the photo, pulling her proudly to him as she holds up a can of soda, showing it off with a big toothed grin. We were never allowed to drink that stuff. "It ruins your teeth," he used to to tell us. There's a gap between Dad and I as I stand to his free side, looking up at him as he smiles proudly for the camera.
The space between us would probably be wide enough for my mom to have fit right in between us. It's a fine representation for how we live now, him and Sarah together as I look on with this mom shaped hole between us.
Placing the picture back down, I turn and face Donna, finally deciding to look out for myself for once.
"Actually Donna" I say, "I'm not so sure that coming back is a good idea. I think I might have finally had enough of this."
"Oh no no sweetheart, don't say that. I promise you, we can sort all of this out."
She glides across the room, holding my hands in hers as her eyes plead with me to give it another shot, but I know what I want, and its not this.
"I don't think I can keep holding out for something that's not coming Donna, I'm really sorry... I think I'm going to go home now."
"No please stay," she's says, "have something to eat?"
"No thats alright, I should get going, Jamie has a big event tonight that I need to get ready for."
I know I'm technically fibbing, but it's the only excuse I have, and truthfully, I need to get out of this house.
Realising that I won't change my mind, Donna pushes it no further.
"I'm so sorry about your dad Izzy," she says, "he will come around, maybe he just needs more time."
"Maybe, but I don't think I have anymore to give him."
I grab my things and give Donna another hug, thanking her for wanting to help. It was more than she owed either of us.
Blinking away tears, I take one last look around as I back out of the driveway, soaking up the parts of my childhood that I want to take with me, because I know that I wont be back.
♾️
There's already a message on my phone from Carol when I get home to the apartment.
Carol: Call me and let me know how it goes! I'm really excited for you Izzy x
I know that I don't have the news she's expecting, but I don't hesitate to call her, she's the person I need at times like this, and right now I could use her perspective.
She allows me to blubber down the phone to her for awhile, but much like anyone, she can only offer so much comfort. She's both angry and saddened for me. Carol has never met my dad, but I've told her so much about him that I bet she could pick him out of a line up at this point. For his sake, I hope that doesn't happen anytime soon.
I'd kill for a hug and a proper pep talk from her, and to make matters worse, I won't be back to work until Monday. This part time thing is the hardest part of going back to college, I don't get to see her or Michelle half as much as I'd like to now.
To be fair, Carol does offer to come and see me, but I explain the situation of Jamies launch party, not that I'm sure I want go to that now with how I'm feeling, but she thinks it will do me some good.
She does her best to talk me into going and promises to check in over the weekend. When we're finished, I pour myself a bath and sink myself into it for the best part of an hour, hoping it helps me relax somehow.
No matter how much hot water I add, how loud I turn my music up, or how much I try to stop obsessing, I can still only think about my dad.
He wasn't ready? I really can't believe it. I've only been waiting the best part of fifteen years for some sort of resolution, but he's the one that's not ready? Go figure.
When I eventually emerge from the bathroom, clean but still miserable, I find that Sarah has been trying to call me.
She left a voicemail saying that Donna had called her and told her what happened. She wanted to check in and see if I was alright. I'm certainly not going to call her back and cry down the phone about the parental rejection that she can't possibly understand, so I send her back a message telling her that I don't want to talk about it. I don't think it would be good for either of us right now anyway.
Someone I can talk to about it is Jamie, and thankfully he calls me not long after I'm out of the bath. He's quite upset with my dad after I explain everything, and even agrees that it's time I cut my losses.
He's actually already on his way home to get ready for the party, so at least I'll have him here soon, not that I mind being alone, with the mood I'm in, I may even be better off.
I'm still in sweats with my wet hair tied up in a messy heap when I hear him open the front door. I have zero motivation to attend this party, but I'm sure he'll understand.
"Hey babe," he says, coming straight for me in the living room. He drops some garment bags onto the couch and pulls me into his arms.
"I'm so sorry about today," he whispers into my hair, "Charlie's an asshole."
My shoulders jiggle as I give a mixture of a laugh and a sob. I love that Jamie never tries to use reason or false hope to make me feel better when it comes to my dad, he's just there and honest, and thats all I want from him right now.
As he holds me, he strokes my back and reminds me that I've been doing just fine without my dad anyway. And he's right, I have been. There's no question that it's been hard, but I'm doing alright. I have plenty of people in my life that want to be in it. I can't chase my dad any longer, for my own sanity more than anything.
"Everything will work out the way its supposed to Iz," Jamie says as I stare at the garment bags on the couch beside us. I'm realising how odd it is that there's two of them, could he not decide on a suit or something?
"What's with the bags?" I curiously ask.
"Ah," he says, leaning back and smiling down at me, "one is yours."
I watch in confusion as he picks up a hanger, explaining himself as he unzips it the cover.
"I saw the dress you hung up in the room last night and noticed it wasn't the one I bought you last year."
"No, the dry cleaner spotted a tear, I didn't even think you'd notice."
"Oh I noticed," he says, "but don't worry, I called the dry cleaners to ask where the right one was and they explained it. I had to send Mel out this morning, she was less than impressed but she got something in the end."
Mel is one of Jamies sisters. He has two, Melanie being the oldest of the three siblings. Scarlet the youngest, and Jamie is smack bang in the middle. They're all an experience in their own right, but Mel is the toughest of them to enjoy. I imagine she'll be sure to let me know just how put out she was to have to go shopping for me.
"Why didn't you ask me instead of calling the dry cleaners?" I ask. I find that point a little odd, did he not trust me?
"I knew you had enough on your mind with your lunch today, it doesn't matter anyway, because I sorted it all out, and now you have this," he says.
Jamie pulls what I can only describe as a tiny piece of fabric from the garment bag. I look on wide-eyed. It's a beautiful bright red colour but jesus christ, it's practically the width of a pencil. It's roughly mid calf length, so at least it has coverage going for it, although the neckline is squared and looks like it makes up for the length with how low cut it is. I'd never have picked this dress.
"Jamie, what size is that?," I ask, "It's tiny, it will never fit!"
"Of course it will," he says, shaking his head, "Mel said that it's meant to be fitted, it will be perfect."
It's only after he says that that I spot the tag. Givenchy. Of course it is, where else would Mel have gone? Her everyday stores are the equivalent of my 'not in this lifetime' ones. Jamie will have paid an absolute fortune for this, that's why he thinks it's perfect. There's no way I'm getting out of this party now.
He looks really excited as he holds the dress up to me, pressing it against my body like he has a clue what it's going to look like on. As he takes it away again, he glances down at my sweats and oversized t-shirt, then checks his watch.
"I know," I say with a sigh, "to tell you the truth, I was thinking of not going at all tonight, but I can see how much it means to you now that you went through all this trouble. I'll run and get myself ready now, we won't he late, I promise."
I strech up on my toes to kiss his cheek, but Jamie takes a step back looking at me like I've just insulted him.
"You didn't want to come?," he asks.
"No, of course I did," I say, "I just had a bad morning. The whole thing with my dad was awful, but it doesn't matter, I'll forget about it, I'm happy to go."
Jamies arms fold across his chest as he frowns at me.
"Everybody has shitty days Izzy," he spits, "it doesn't mean you get to let people down just because your feelings are hurt."
I'm stunned for a second, did he really just say that?
"Wait a second Jamie, that's not fair, I said I was coming didn't I?"
"Yes, just like you should be, because what wouldn't be fair is for you leave me looking like an idiot when I've already told everybody that you're coming! It also wouldn't be fair to let my sister replace the monstrosity you bought yesterday, only for you to not even have the decensy to show up. She had stuff to do today too Iz."
"I- I didn't ask her to do that," I say defensively, "or you. The dress I had was perfectly acceptable."
Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose, a sign I recognise all too well. I need to back off.
"So what you're saying is that you were going to let me turn up there alone, that's what you're saying? After everything I've done for you these past few weeks?"
"Everything you've done for me?" I question.
"Yes Izzy! For you! The therapy, the classes, letting you go back to college, the trip away. Should I stop there or will I also bring up the fact that I didn't absolutely lose it when you ran out after that waste of space at lunch a few weeks ago too?"
Is he still hung up on Will, is that why he's trying to argue with me right now? I thought that was long forgotten by now.
"The therapy and classes aren't for me Jamie," I remind him.
I know I shouldn't have to tell him that. I'll wholeheartedly put my hands up and say that I haven't been the worlds best girlfriend lately, but he's pushing it with that one.
"Oh really?, he says snidely. "Who's the one who benefits from it all Izzy? I have no issues with returning to life without either of them, but do you?"
Theres a glint in his eye as he inches closer to me.I understand exactly what he means, but I let that little threat run right over my head, I know he doesn't mean it.
This day has been hard enough without this, I don't need to add an argument with Jamie to it, so I try to simmer things down.
"Look, I shouldn't have said anything," I say, "it was a fleeting thought, thats all. I know I haven't been that attentive these last few weeks, I've been distracted, but of course I want to support you. I can't wait to see you get the recognition you deserve, and I want to be there for it."
Jamie stays stoic, still annoyed at me.
"Lets forget this?," I say, "I'll go get myself ready right now. Please Jamie, I don't want to argue. I'm sorry."
"Thank you," he says in a flat tone, "that wasn't so hard was it?"
I take a deep breath, reminding myself that he's likely just as stressed as I am.
"No, you were right. I didn't mean to upset you, I wasn't thinking."
His expression immediately softens.
"Okay," he says, "lets forget it. I'd like to have a nice night together, we haven't had something like this in awhile."
He just about looks vulnerable as he leans in to kiss me. I know this night is big for him, and he's easily agitated when there's pressure on him like this. Jamie is going to need to appear perfect, I suppose we both will. So I'll try my best to keep him happy.
I rush off to dry my hair and get ready, grateful that things didn't escalate, and that there might still be a tiny bit of this day to salvage.
♾️
Not long after, my make up is on, my hair is pinned back into a low updo, and I still have twenty minutes to spare. I knew we woudn't be late.
I ask Jamie to zip me into the dress his sister bought. I'm convinced its going to burst open at the seams as he does, because I can just about breathe in it.
In Mels defence, it is a pretty dress, it's just a little sultry for me. I'm not entierly comfortable with what it highlights on my body, and the neck line is way too low. I don't have a huge bust, but this dress makes my boobs look like they're heaving, I'll be pulling at it all night.
"Wow!" Jamies eyes work their way over me as he spins me around.
"Oh shut up!" I say, giggling as I swat at him. I move away to find a purse, but he pulls me back into him.
"I owe you an apology for how I spoke to you inside," he says. "There's things I'm still trying to navigate, those quick triggers being one of them."
Jamie doesn't talk about his therapy all that much with me, so it's good to know that he's starting to recognise certain patterns.
"You're still working it," I tell him, "thats all that matters."
I pull him closer to me, letting my lips touch his. He responds by deepening the kiss, letting his tongue explore my mouth while his hands do the same to my body.
"Maybe you were onto something earlier Iz," he husks into my ear. "Staying here doesn't look so bad right now."
He runs his hands down the back of my dress, stopping to get a handful of my ass. My eyes close as he nibbles at my neck, I wonder if I could convince him that it would be a lot more fun too...
"It's a pity we're already dressed, and that the car will be here any minute," I tease.
"With how long I've waited, a minute will do."
I let let out a giggle, "That's not nearly as sexy as you think it is," I tell him.
Catching a glimpse of Jamie in the mirror as he presses himself against me, I watch his hands ball my dress and begin to feel a burning ignite that I haven't in awhile.
I don't have the worry I usually do right now, or feel the cut off point that I've felt every other time we've began to get intimate.
I lean in to him, pulling him into a kiss so deep that it may have ruined my make up.
"I think we should continue this later," I say, "after we get home..."
"Really?" His eyes light up.
I slowly run my fingers through the back of his hair the way I know he likes, and nip at his bottom lip.
"Really," I say.
"Christ, I hope I can't wait that long Iz," he pants as he adjusts himself inside his suit pants.
"Well, let's go ahead and see how long you last at this party before I convince you to take me home then."
I wink at him as I reach again for my bag, feeling more in control than I have in the longest time.
We blissfully make our way down to the car, hand in hand. It seems that against all odds, Jamie has managed to turn my whole day around after all.