The Resident

Chapter 33

Without thinking I got up and got my wallet and phone, and called a taxi and went to the airport.
I got on a flight home, and got a taxi to my parent's house.
By that evening, just after dinner time, I was home. And as much as it felt better to be there, it didn't make me feel any better. But I needed my mum and dad. I needed to be home.
They were shocked when I walked in. They were watching tv in the living room.
They were excited when they first saw me, but then they noticed the look on my face as I stood wearily in the doorway, and they got quiet. My mum rushed over to me and hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and pulled me over to the couch and sat me down and sat down next to me.
"My baby boy....tell me everything. Let it out baby. I'm here. We're here, Ian."
And that was all I needed. That was what I came a thousand miles for. For exactly what she just said and did.
And I cried on my mum's shoulder. I cried and cried and cried.
Even my dad got up and came over and sat behind me and patted my back, and kept his hand there on my back through all my sobs and heaves and "I love her's", just to let me know he was there.

Finally after what seemed forever, my dad went and got me a drink of water, and my mum just stayed there on the couch waiting for whatever I'd do or say next.
So I started talking.
I told her about the calls, the texts, the nasty pictures, the envelope of pictures, the pictures I hadn't seen yet. I told her about Janel fainting. And the hospital. And me sneaking in to see her, and her kicking me out. I told her that Janel was hurting horribly, I could tell, but she just wouldn't let me take away her pain.
My mum was mamma bear pissed that someone would do that to us. To her son, let alone. But to me and Janel. The perfect couple. The one woman that she liked best for me, of all my other girlfriends.
She comforted me and asked questions, trying to get the story straight in her head, and trying to see if there could be anything I was missing, to convince Janel I was innocent. She racked her brain. My dad came in, gave me my water, and tried to rack his brain.
All they could come up with is that if Janel truly knew how much I loved her, she'd figure it out, without any evidence, and I just had to give her some time.
I wasn't happy with that conclusion.
Time HURT. Every second without Janel HURT me. It was physically painful. My arms ached to have her in them. My lips ached for her kiss. My nose even begged for her scent. And Mini me...I think he died. I hadn't even woken up with a fucking piss hard on this morning. I'd forgotten I'd had a dick.

"I have to tell you guys about Janel. I haven't told you yet, because I wanted you guys to love her like I love her, and without any prejudgements getting in your way." I finally said.
"Uh oh...don't tell me she's a recovered addict or something" my mum said.
"No. Nothing like that. She's fine. Don't worry. It's not bad. It's just....different." I told them quickly, not wanting them to think anything less of her...even though they'd probably never see her again, ever. Which gave a painful shudder through my spine and into my body when I thought of that fact.
My mum actually reached over for a throw blanket for me, I shuddered so hard.
So wrapped under the throw blanket, with my mum and dad surrounding me on the couch, I told the entire story of Janel. From the second I saw her in the street, until yesterday.
I told them everything about her. I was going to anyway, at some point. But now was just the first perfect opportunity. And reliving her and our story, just talking about her at all, felt good.
They were shocked at some of the stories I told them, that Janel had told me. They teared up about her long lost dog friend, who most likely kept her alive through that winter alone in the woods and cabin. Well, my dad teared up. My mum cried. That's just a sad ass story, that one. I remembered how it got me, back when she told me about it. When my mum recovered, I went on with more intricate stories. I told them about her flashbacks she occasionally gets, and about the ones she got when I was around. Which had only been two or three. I told them about the one at the party, from the smell of a certain booze. I told them what happened in her flashback. My mum did a lot of gasping in horror through all my stories.
I told them about how I couldn't touch her for the first few months. Not a single touch. And how hard it was not to hug her or hold her hand when I wanted to. I told them about under the bridge, and how brave she got one day and decided to believe me that touching a person was wonderful, and not painful. I told them about the patio when she brought me to tears, by innocently touching my face.
I told them about her room, and her music collection (my dad was impressed with her musical taste.) and how she had a connection with my voice on my albums, after she met me, but she didn't know why. How they soothed her when I was away. I told them about her friend Marcus and a little about his story. I told them about when Janel finally got brave and tried hugging me. And I told them all the red tape and crap and how she was pretty much lost in "the system" and forgotten, and she was actually very smart, and she could have been out of that place a lot quicker than she was, had there been someone to advocate it. But that it was probably me who made the difference, because of all the strides she made since I came along. I mean, it was HER who made the difference, really...I know that....but me being there was the reason for her quick strides.
I told them about her apartment, and Bonnie acting practically like her mother. I told them about buying Bonnie a new car, and Janel helping as much as I'd let her.
I told them about Janel suprising me with a kiss one day, and how I slept on the couch every night. I told my parents about my whole "let her grow up and learn to love and learn what a relationship is like before having sex" plan, and how fucking hard that was for me. And her. I told them we ended up having a great sex life, even without having actual sex. My parents are cool with stuff. I can tell them anything.
I told them about traveling with Janel, and the first time we came to the UK together, and Janel met them, and my friends. I told them a quick, undetailed story of the party with my friends. They didn't NEED to know about spin the bottle. Lol. I did mention skinny dipping. They laughed through that one.
I told them how I tried to give Janel every possible experience that she should have had all this time.
I told them about that awful party in LA, and what happened there. My mum was pissed at me for risking my hand like that. "You could have ended your career from hurting your hand like that!" she scolded me. I told them about the terrific results in the hospital, that she was still a virgin.
I told them about our second trip to England, and our wonderful day and night at my own house.
My mum was shocked. She didn't understand why I'd spend the night there, when there was no bed there, and she'd figured we'd probably "get busy" as she put it, in my room that night if we'd have come home. So now, she understood why we stayed at the empty house. Ahhhhh. "My boy's a true romantic!" she beamed with pride to my dad, who smiled and lifted his eyebrows with pride. "We've taught him well, we have!" he told my mum. "A thoughtful young lad. Always thinkin', he is."
Oh, and my mum had teary eyes when I told her how wonderful the day had been at my house, and how we watched the sun set from the barn loft, and the Italian food we ordered, and ate by candle light on the floor, and "the actual business we got down to was the best experience of my entire life".
My dad joked that I was near possibly the height of my career, and I purposely gave up sex for an entire year....I MUST be in love!"
I laughed, but then I had to stop and bite my lip and try to hold back tears that suddenly came to the surface of my eyes.
"Sorry son...carry on....you can do it." my dad encouraged, to stop my tears.

I told them everything I could think of from the past year and a half.
And how someone, fucked everything up. The fucked the rest of my entire life up. They fucked up Janel's entire life. And if they ever got a call from jail, it will be because I found out who the person is that did this to us.
They understood. They weren't happy about it, and told me they'd better NOT get a call from jail, because they'll be sad, but Janel will be alone then, and this person would have truly won in the end, by keeping us both apart.

Good point.

Only my parents could make me realize that one. Hmmm. I hoped I'd be able to control myself if I ever did find the person. Shit. I had a long, slow torture death all planned out in my head. Sick, I know. But they were causing ME a long, slow torture death, so? Fuck 'em.

My mum got up to make me a dinner from the week's leftovers. And my dad tried to give me some fatherly advice. He told me to remember last time this happened to me, and he remembers it well, how devastated I was, and even though this time is much deeper and more meaningful and he can tell how much more I love Janel than my first love, and part of that is because I've grown up since then....but everything WILL be ok in the end. With, OR without Janel. He reminded me that several times. Not to give up. Because even at my darkest hour, which I felt was right about NOW, things WOULD get better sooner, or even later. But they WOULD get better in the end. So not to do anything stupid.
And he concluded with a long, strong hug, and an "I love you son."
And then I went in and started picking at the dinner my mum heated up. I didn't have an appetite, but as I picked, my body took over, and decided "FOOOOOOD!!!!!! It's been TWO DAYS!!!!" and I ended up devouring the entire plate she made. That was the ONLY thing that had felt a SLIGHT bit GOOD, in the entire past two lonnnnnng days from hell. That plate of food.
But even that couldn't make my pain go away. Not even take the edge off.
It was almost as if that food gave me more energy to be more sad!
Not good.

My mum came in to check on me, and I was standing at the sink garbage disposal, with my plate in hand, trying to scrape the scraps in, only I ended up bent down, leaning over the sink, balanced on the front of the sink edge by my elbows, plate hanging from my hand, half in the running water, head tilted down, crying again.
I couldn't fucking do this! I couldn't take this pain! And longing! Longing for Janel to be with me. And it had hit me just a second ago, just how far away I was at this very second, from Janel. And how the fuck did I get here? What if she realized I didn't cheat on her, and tried to find me? And I'm in fucking ENGLAND, and she's in fucking Philadelphia, PA, in America!?

My mum came and stood behind me, and rubbed my back as I sobbed and yelped more. What a fucking pathetic sight I must have been. I had everything in the world anyone could possibly want. I had a loving family. Great friends. More money than I could have ever imagined. Musical ability that important musical people respected and gravitated towards. I had fucking FAME. Fortune. Family. Friends. The four fucking "F's", for God's sakes!
But all I wanted, was that ONE "L".

Love.

And I just wanted love with Janel.

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