The bar at Cheesecake Factory was hopping, for a Thursday night. The stools at the sprawling counter and numerous two-person tables were packed, full of wanna-be socialites out on the town, shoving down some food and a cheap drink before making the trek down the street to the brightly lit strip of nightclubs and lounges. There, they would nurse expensive drinks and stand around looking seductively bored enough to catch someone's eye. I didn't miss the meat market at all.

I watched the subtle dance of men and women- glancing and flirting and smiling and laughing- from the lobby, where I waited for Melissa to meet me for dinner. I had it all planned out, in my head. I'd arrange for a nice dinner, just the two of us. The atmosphere would be relaxed. The food would be good. The mood would be light. And then I would drop the bomb.

I spotted Melissa's war torn Ford Explorer, the rainbow sticker peeling off the back bumper, pulling into the lot and heading toward a parking space. Minutes later, she was bounding up the sidewalk, still in her crisp white blouse with her security tag clipped to the pocket, rushing through the doors toward me. I held a pager so that they could buzz me when our table was ready. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. As soon as I stood up to greet her, the buzzer went off in my hand and the hostess led us to our table.

"Sorry I'm late," she huffed, sliding into the booth across from me. She dumped her purse in the spot next to her and brushed her hair back from her face. She was flushed red, out of breath and flustered.

I waived her off and set my purse next to me. I had fidgeted and sweated so much that the leather on the handles had rubbed a little soft spot. "Relax, I wasn't waiting long."

"Great." She settled back against the booth with the enormous book that was the dinner and drinks menu, flipped through to the drinks and browsed the selection with the tip of her finger.

"So... treating me to dinner out, on a weeknight. Must be a special occasion. Or you have news. Which is it?"

My eyes shot up from my own menu, the one I wasn't really reading because I already knew what I was eating - and because I was too nervous to concentrate. I closed my menu and slid it to the edge of the table. She did the same and sat forward, clasped her hands in front her of her on the table.

I blushed and smiled and lowered my eyes to the table. I was more nervous than I thought I'd be. I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. "I can't get over on you, huh?"

"Never could. I've told you, you get this look when you need to say something. Did something happen on your trip?"

"Uhm..." I hesitated, longing for a drink, just something to wet my throat and give me some courage. I considered it for a half a second but decided against it. This would not be that big of a deal. At least, that's what I was telling myself.  "Well, sort of. Yeah."

Her eyes opened wide and she perked up. "Did you find out about the job? Did you get it?"

"Uh, I don't know... yet. The interview went really well. It was long... I met with a couple of people, took a tour of the plant. It's nice in there. I want to work there. I won't know for awhile." I stopped and nervously scratched my temple and played with the ends of my hair as I continued, plowing forward. "But uhm... something else happened. Between JC and I. We--"

Melissa's eyes opened wider, if possible and she sat forward and hissed, "Are you pregnant?"

I laughed, maybe a little too loudly, because she glared at me and glanced around. Her question was almost comical, as much as she preached about safe sex and as careful as I was with JC. Things happened-- things that were out of human control sometimes-- but I would have been completely shocked and unprepared if I turned up pregnant. At the moment, I wasn't even sure if the word "forever" existed between us. The last thing I wanted was for it to be forced there by a human being that we created when we weren't being careful enough.

 "I'm not pregnant, you twit," I said, still laughing. "Can I talk?"

"Well, spit it out. I don't have all night."

"Uhm so-" I was interrupted again by the waitress, who placed tall glasses of ice water in front of each of us and took our orders. I sucked down a gulp of water, took a deep breath and tried, again, to push the words out of my mouth. 

"Well, JC and I were talking this weekend about things going on at StarTel-you know how bad it is there, now. And these interviews and flying back and forth and missing each other a lot. We're both ready for me to be there full time, we think and uhm...."

I heard a gasp and looked up. Melissa's arms slowly slid off of the table and into her lap. Her shoulders sagged and she dropped her eyes to the wood grain of the table.

"You're leaving early," she said, in a near whisper. I'd been prepared for a sarcastic, annoyed, even angry tirade. I wasn't prepared for the deep crimson color that was developing in her face and the two lone tears that rolled down each cheek.

"I mean, I knew it was coming." Her voice wavered with the shake of an impending sob and though she did her best to maintain control, the sob was winning. "I knew you were going. I just thought...I thought I had more time with you. It's... the end of an era."

I nodded again, pressing my lips together to avoid crying with her. One of us needed to stay strong, to hold the other one up. I slid a napkin across the table to her. She just stared at it and let the tears drip into her lap.

"We haven't not lived in the same city for... well I've known you since I was 19. We've shared all these experiences together over those years-you've always been a part of my life. I never thought I'd have to live here without you."

"It was a really hard decision to make, Mel. Honest. But we knew it was coming, right? It's just...the distance doesn't make my heart grow fonder anymore. Being with him spoils me beyond belief. Being without him is like missing a part of me. I'm-we are at a point where we just want to be together. Not everything is worked out, but I'll do what I have to do. JC will help, if I need it."

"Okay," she said with a sniffle, looking at everything but me. "I mean, I'm happy for you, of course. He's great for you. I couldn't have picked a better match. I'm just..."

She shook her head and glanced out of the window at the cars on Peachtree, crawling through the early evening traffic.  "Annette is gone for weeks at a time and I don't have family here and I don't trust anyone like I trust you. I just feel like Atlanta will be so empty without you. I'm not looking forward to waking up the day after you're gone."

"Oh... honey." It tore me apart to watch her cry, to listen to her bare her soul. It was rare for her to be so vulnerable and emotional. So open. So sad. My heart was breaking for her. For us.

"I called it, you know. You remember?"  That day in my backyard, after I had come back from LA and I announced my plan to move was at the forefront of my mind. ‘She says that now, but just wait.  She'll be packing up her shit and changing her address to West Hollywood, California.'  How naïve I had been, at the time. And how wise and all knowing she had been.

"I remember," I said, laughing a little. "I kind of didn't want to tell you, ‘cause I knew you'd bring that up."

"Well, I only said it because I know you love him and there was no way you'd wait. And I've seen how he looks at you-if I looked at a woman like that, I wouldn't want to wait either." She sighed and finally picked up the napkin and dabbed at her cheeks and eyes. "Wow, you got me to cry. That's amazing, hasn't happened in a long time."

I sniffled with her and swiped at my face, catching a tear before it streaked down my cheek. "And probably never will again right?"

"Damn straight." She laughed but her eyes were still sort of sad. I appreciated the brave front she was putting on. We would have a lot of time for crying. Better to pace ourselves.  "When is the big move, then? And what are you going to tell everyone, if anything?"

"Uh... well, the plan is that if I haven't got a job offer by Thanksgiving, I'll go to Orlando with him to meet his parents and drive back to LA with him."

"So soon. Damn." Melissa giggled, and then fell into full on laughter. "Wait, what? Did you say drive?"

I knew full well what she was laughing at. One summer, she and I decided a road trip would be a great idea. We each took ten days off from work and drove to New Orleans. Two strong-willed people should not be alone together for a long period of time-- we almost didn't come back as friends and we haven't been on a trip alone together since.

I cringed a little, and then laughed with her. "I know, I already told him we may not still be dating by the time we get to LA. I'm sure I'm destined to be looking at the world's biggest bale of hay or something. But... he wants to do this road trip thing. He seemed really excited about planning it."

"God help him, because you are annoying on the road."

"I know. But we went away for a weekend and had a good time, so... maybe I've changed?" I shrugged and winced, knowing that probably wasn't true. "I have a ton of shit to do, though. I can count on you for help, right?"

"Are you kidding?" She said, pointing to the approaching waiter and moving her water glass and tear soaked napkin out of the way. "You're gonna have to peel me off of you from now until you leave. I'll be around."

God, I loved that woman.

My club sandwich and fries seemed to disappear before my eyes. I hadn't eaten much in the days after my return to Atlanta. My mind was reeling and my to-do list got longer and my worries were mounting. Anxiety, not giddy happiness, was ruling my life at the moment-which was annoying JC more than he let on, but he was being understanding, at least.

"I don't even know what to do first. I guess I have a reason to put the house up for sale, now."

"Mmm!" Melissa chewed, one finger raised and waiving. She swallowed, took a sip of her water and smacked the table. "Problem already solved!"

"What are you talking about?" I shoved the last fry into my mouth and slid my plate to the edge of the table, then plucked the cheesecake menu from its holder.

"Jen just told me... last week? Two weeks ago?" She stared into the lighting fixture above the table and tapped her fingers. Counting, I guessed.

"It doesn't matter when. What did she tell you?"

"Oh.  She said that she and Brian decided to start looking for a house! Maybe to rent first and then buy later.  You know they live in a third floor walkup and they don't want to have to lug the baby up and down those stairs."

"Ohhh." I sat straight up, kind of excited. But scared to be excited. I mean, they had to agree to buy it, first. "They love my house!"

Melissa nodded. "Especially since you made JC do all that work. Who loves you, baby?" She wiggled her brows and finished off her sandwich, popping the last of it in her mouth.

"You do! Oh my God... I could sell my house without really selling my house! I should call Jen."

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone, in it's case.

"What the hell is that?" Melissa pointed, her brows scrunched together.

I glanced at the thin touch screen mobile phone that I hadn't even learned to use, yet. "Oh. Let me tell you a story." I rolled my eyes and set the phone down, leaning into the space between us.

"Picture it-Los Angeles California. Tuesday morning. I'm getting ready for my interview, and I'm looking through my work email account and out of the blue this tall, handsome, blue eyed hunk of a man-who happens to be the love of my life-asks me, ‘is that your phone or StarTel's phone? I mean, when you quit, do you have to give that back?'  And I'm thinking... you know, it's probably theirs, because I didn't pay for it and I don't really want to buy it from them. So I told him that, and I went off to my little interview."

I stopped to sip on my water, smiling at Melissa, who is paying rapt attention to my story. "So I go to my interview, which went great. I got back to the house, couldn't wait to tell him about it. He interrupts my interview story to say ‘there's a bag on the counter for you.'  So I look over and sure enough there is a bag on the counter. From the Apple store. He looks so damn proud, you know? So I try not to roll my eyes and I go over to the bag, and I open it and..."

I picked up the slim device, a smirk on my face.  "iPhone."

"He bought you a phone?"

"He bought me a phone. He bought me an iPhone! He put me on his account. Do you know how expensive iPhone plans are? I was kind of pissed!"

Melissa laughed, her head bending toward the table so her giggles echoed off of the surface. "You're such a weird girl. Why?"

"Because! You know how I am about him buying shit for me. And he didn't ask me if I wanted him to buy me a phone. He didn't ask me if I wanted an iPhone. He didn't ask me if I wanted him to put me on his account. He just did it!"

"So?"

"So..." I started to laugh, so hard I couldn't finish my sentence. "So, I didn't want an iPhone! Now I have to pretend to love this piece of shit phone until I accidentally-on-purpose run over it!"

Melissa laughed harder. "That won't work. He'll just replace it. I think it's cool. Let me see."

I handed it over and she played with the screen, opening and closing applications, oohing and aaahing over everything. "It's already got a ton of stuff in it."

"Uhm, yeah he loaded it up with all sorts of shit I have to have." I rolled my eyes as she handed it back.

Melissa's expression was full of mock sympathy. "Oh, you poor thing. Your boyfriend bought you a phone, paid for the service and set it up for you and everything. You'd better dump him."

"I know, right? Fucker." I glanced at it and scrolled through the menu, looking for Jen's number. "I love that asshole," I added with a smile, and then proceeded to leave a message for Jen to call me when she had a chance.

I slid the phone back into its case-also new, and put both back into my purse. "You know... it's like fate. Or kismet. Or destiny... or whatever. So many things keep coming up and just working themselves out or falling into place, for us. I'm starting to think the Universe wants us to be together."

"That's probably a safe assumption," she said, laughing. "What else can I solve for you?"

I cringed at my next thought. "Ugh. Can you break the news to my family and quit my job for me?"

*

After dessert and some laughs and only a few more tears, I headed home with the slice of cheesecake I had ordered to go, and settled into the living room to eat it. No sooner had I kicked off my shoes and set them up onto the ottoman did the phone ring. I sighed and fumbled with it, catching the call just before it went to voicemail.

"What?!"

"Hey, grumpy." JC chuckled, a sound that magically tickled my ears and sent a shiver down my spine-from across the country. I heard music and conversations and announcements over a PA system in the background. I guessed that he was at the MTV studios, either taping or rehearsing.  "What's your problem?"

"This damn phone," I grumbled. "I don't know how to work it, yet. I was pressing the button, but it wasn't picking up the call."

"You're a smart girl. I'm sure you'll figure it out. What are you doing?"

"I'm sitting in my living room, getting ready to eat a slice of cheesecake."

"What kind?" I just barely heard him, over the noise.

"You're not getting any, so it doesn't matter." I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder and sliced into the dessert, shoving a forkful of creamy decadence into my mouth. "Mmmm, it's so good, too," I moaned, around a mouth full of cheesecake.

"My girlfriend, she is mean. How did tonight go? Did you tell her?"

"I did. It went better and worse than I thought it would." I popped another bite into my mouth, smaller this time. "She cried."

"Chew. Swallow. I can't hear you over the stuff in your mouth."

"I can't hear you over that noise behind you. We're even. I said, she cried."

"Wow. Really?"

"Mmmhmmm.  I cried, too. It was a tearfest. But then we laughed. At you. And ate, and laughed some more and cried some more. She's fine."

"Are you fine?" 

Fuck him and his intuition.

"I will be," I answered after a few quiet moments. I set down the empty container on the coffee table in front of me. I was picking up bad eating habits from JC-I didn't remember inhaling the entire piece of cheesecake.

"Aww. I wish I could be there." He paused and then added, "It'll be okay. It will."

"Mmmhmm. No big deal. Just moving away from my best friend of 15 years is all."

"Sweetie..."

"I know. I'm sorry, I know. I'm fine." I sighed and leaned back, slouching into the couch and gazing up at the ceiling. "It's fresh."

"Yeah. How will telling your parents be? Harder? Easier?"

"I have no idea. I would think it would be harder, except they took the news that I was planning to move a lot better than I thought they would. Then again, you were there and I'm convinced they were being good on your account."

"Do you want to wait? Do you want me to come out, and we can tell them together?"

I shook my head, though he couldn't see it. "No. I'm a big girl. I can do it. Just... keep the phone on."

"I will. When are you telling them?"

"At dinner on Sunday. God, I'm so nervous."

"It'll go fine. I'm sure-" JC was interrupted by a loud announcement over the speakers. He must have been standing directly in front of or underneath one, because the staticky scratch at high volume hurt my ears. "I gotta go. I'll call you, when I get home."

"Hey!" I sat up, so ready to go to bed. As soon as I hung up, I was heading upstairs.

"Honey, I gotta go. Really fast--what?"

"I love you," I said, making sure he could hear my smile. "How's that for fast?"

I could just see him stop in his tracks, smile and bob his head in that cute ‘aw shucks' way. "That's awesome for fast. I love you, too. I'll call you in a bit. This is gonna work out fine, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Go judge." 

The call ended without another word. I pushed myself up off of the couch and trudged up the stairs, yawning. I was spent, emotionally, reaching the end of my rope. I was so glad he thought everything was going to be okay. I wasn't really quite as convinced, so one of us needed to be sure. I supposed this was what he meant by ‘you just have to have faith in us'.

###

Sunday came slowly, easing it's way forward. It must have known I wanted to get it over and done with-time seemed to creep by and I found myself sitting around waiting until I could leave and drive north to my parent's house.

The drive was easy, in light afternoon traffic. Tourist season was just about over and the roads belonged to the locals again. I pulled into the driveway and took a moment to breathe and review what I was going to say.

"Well, look who it is! Terry! Serena is here!"

I planted a kiss on my mom's cheek and stepped past her into the house and my father's open arms.

"Hey sweet pea." My dad's goatee tickled my cheek as he bent to kiss it. "We haven't seen you out here in awhile. Everything okay?"

"Everything is great. Wonderful, in fact." I knew I was beaming but I couldn't help it. "I uhm... well, I came to talk to you guys about something. Can I horn in on dinner?"

"Well sure, there's always plenty to go around. I'll set you a place, come on in."

The dining room table was the same table from my childhood. Sturdy, heavy, dark walnut. If I looked hard enough, I could still find the pencil indentations from many nights of homework done there, and the rings from the mugs of cocoa and coffee from Sunday morning breakfasts and late night talks with my mom.  Now that it was up at the lake house, it was put to good use in the informal eating area off of the kitchen. 

I sat in my old spot, to the right of my dad, wistful at the memories of eating at that table every evening growing up. Dinner was always at 6pm sharp, and it was a family affair. Unless it was for school or sports, we could do nothing until after dinner. We did not watch TV or read the paper at the table-- we talked about our day and current events and activities. As adults, my brothers and I were not just siblings, but friends. In a way, being forced to discuss the invasion of Kuwait over pot roast with my younger brothers gave me a respect for them that I don't think I would have had, before.  It was a tradition I hoped to carry on with a family of my own.

My parents and I chatted and made small talk as we ate. I caught them up on happenings with StarTel, and the most recent trip to LA, including the interview. Mom and I talked about her work at the Women's Medical Center, Dad and I talked about new clients at his Accounting practice. Try as I might, I couldn't find a way to fit ‘So, I'm moving to LA in November' into the conversation. They could tell, though, that something was on my mind, so after the dinner dishes were cleared, we retired to the patio to talk.

I sat in one of the painted chairs scattered around the patio, breathing deeply, willing myself to just go for it.   

"Uhm, so I've made a pretty difficult decision. And... I came to let you guys know that I'm planning on leaving Atlanta. Well, you knew that but... uh... sooner than I planned on leaving before."

I held my breath and stared at my hands clasped in front of me and waited for the fountain of questions and arguments and ‘have you considered...' suggestions that would no doubt be coming. My parents, sitting in chairs across from me, glanced at each other and then back to me.

Mom said, "How soon is sooner?"

"Probably after Thanksgiving. Well, he wants me to come down to Orlando with him for Thanksgiving. Meet his parents and then... head out to LA."

Both seemed to rear back at the announcement of an actual date.  I picked up a wayward napkin from the table and twisted it, just for something to do with my hands.

"Well. That's... that's..." My mom sputtered and blinked and glanced at my dad. "That's pretty early."

"Well. I mean, you know..." I stopped to breathe, and relax. I closed my eyes and started again.

"Okay... I've been interviewing, flying back and forth.  It's getting expensive, especially when I know I'm moving there eventually. So, I can stay until I secure something and then move but it's so frustrating.  The limbo is awkward, and things at StarTel aren't good. I don't really have a future there." I grimaced and tried to look sad. Truth be told, I couldn't wait to kick that hellhole out of my life.

"Or I can just take the leap and go, and accept JC's help and make the best of it until I find what I'm looking for. If I do it right, I should be okay on money for awhile. Jen and Brian want to buy my house, so that makes things even easier."  I ran out of words and shrugged, gripping the napkin and holding on for dear life.

My dad eyed me over his bifocals. "And you want our blessing? Or permission?"   

"Maybe." I blushed and looked at my hands, subconsciously shredding the paper I was clutching. I dumped the strips onto the table next to me. "I guess I expect you guys to be really upset that I'm leaving without a job and something secure, and have all these arguments against it."

"Well..." my mom started, moving forward to sit on the edge of her chair. "If we refused to give our blessing, would it change your mind? Would it make you stay here in Atlanta, until we agreed with you?"

She had a point. "No. I'm way more stubborn than that."

"Exactly. You sure are," my dad agreed, nodding. "So, what can we do? What can we say? We'll have to live with it and if it's a mistake, it's yours to make. You can always come back. Yes?"

I smiled at him. At both of them. "You know I'll never admit failure. I have to make it work."

My mom sighed, squinting and smiling into the horizon. The sun was just beginning to sink and my favorite time of day - sunset at the lake-was fast approaching.

"I remember when I met your dad. We were 17. Well, I was 17. He was in his 20's. Handsome as the day is long. Strapping young man-had just started working on a construction crew." She laughed a little and gave him a sideways glance as if to ask ‘remember?' He blushed a little and tipped his head to the side-modest but not in disagreement.

"You could not keep him from me if you tried. And my parents-they tried. ‘He's too old for you!' they'd say. ‘What does he want with a 17 year old?' they'd ask. I didn't care. I loved him. I knew we were meant for each other. And I still know today." She reached across the small patio table to lay a hand on my dad's arm. He covered it with his and grinned at her.

"You remember that night, out in Vail? When I accidentally eavesdropped on your conversation with him?" I nodded, the memory a fond one.

"We talked about him a little and I could tell you were playing it safe, but I saw it, in your face. And when I met him, I saw it in his face, what I felt in my heart when I was 17 and your father was 22. You have loved him longer than you know you have. I saw it when you came back from LA the first time." She nodded.

I rolled my eyes, laughed and turned away, crossing one leg over the other. "Mother, you did not!"

"I did, too!" She smacked the armrest of her chair in protest. "I did. Ask your father. I saw it. I said, ‘Serena is different. Something happened. And she's going to a therapist? Why on earth, all of a sudden, is she seeing a therapist when she's been fighting it for years? Something happened, Terry.'  Why do you think we were so excited to meet him, the man who made you smile, and made you want to be a better person?"

She shrugged her shoulders and threw up her hands, letting them fall back into her lap. "We saw this coming a mile away, Serena. Doesn't make us necessarily happy to see you go without having the way paved for you, but... maybe you need to pave that path yourself."

It was all I could do to stop my mouth from falling open. It wouldn't do any good. I was speechless-no words would come out, anyway.

"Let me be honest with you, sweet pea," my dad added quietly. He removed his bifocals, folding the stems and clutching them in his large hand. His mouth was taut, drawn into a thin line across his face.  "We think it's early. We're... concerned. But we also know that arguing won't make what you want go away. We don't want to be at odds and we don't want you to leave against our blessing. We want you to be happy. You obviously love him. This is something you need to do. Go do it."

There wasn't much more I could say than, "Thank you. And JC thanks you for your trust and your support, I'm sure."

"It will always be here. And so will we. Let us know if you need anything. Anything."

My mom stood, mumbling something about dessert, but I saw her take a swipe under her eyes as she walked into the house. I looked over at my dad and the look on his face made me proud to be his daughter.   We threw ideas back and forth, made jokes and plans and then had coffee and pound cake out on the patio, the September evening air full of crickets and sounds of the lake splashing onto the shore.

*

"It was so easy, honey. So easy. It was like pods took over my parent's bodies. They hardly argued at all... I still can't believe it."

"I told you, nothing is as hard as you make it in your mind."

Yes, JC was always right. He never failed to remind me. I stuck out my tongue at the camera and JC grinned and flapped his fingers at the screen. "So lucky you're not here. You'd have lost that tongue."

I admired his smile but noticed the bags under his eyes and the few days' growth of hair on his thinning face. He'd been working nonstop on his show for the tour, the MTV show, and his writing and producing for other artists. Every time I came to town, he had to move things around so he could be available, which always set him back a few days. It was the only reason I felt guilty about going to see him.

"Mmmhmm. Big talk from across the country. So, when and where is the first tour date? Do you know yet?"

"No, I just know it's ending in LA. Sometime in March. I'd love for you to come to that."

"I would love to come to that. I so wouldn't miss that. Can I tell you how proud I am of you?"

His tired face broke into a shy smile. "Thanks honey. If I can just get something out of it, I'll be proud, too."

"Without killing yourself. You look so tired, love." I longed to reach out and caress that cheek, to pull him to me and let him rest his head on my shoulder. Since I couldn't, I reached up and touched the screen. He did the same, our fingers virtually touching for a few seconds. It was the best we could do.

"I am pretty tired. I've been pulling some all nighters. And then working all day." He stretched, twisting his neck and shoulders around. I could hear the joints popping through the tiny speakers. "I think I'm gonna knock off early, go to bed right after we talk and get a good night in. Some rest will do me good."

"Yeah, don't make yourself sick."

"Yes, mommy." He sent me a kiss over the airwaves. I smiled and sent one back.  "So, now that you broke the news to your folks, when are you telling those sumbitches at work that you're outta there?"

"Tomorrow." The shakes and flutters rose anew at the thought of walking into Gary's office, sitting down, and just telling him plainly ‘I quit.'  I was actually kind of excited to say the words, hand over my typed resignation and walk out. "They've been grooming someone to take my place, so I kind of hope they'll just tell me to clean out my desk and leave."

"We can only hope."

"Yeah. Hope for that."

 "Okay." He yawned and sank lower into the chair he was sitting in. His eyes were just barely open but I could see them, rolling around. "So I don't see you until when? When I come to get you?"

"Something like that. Unless you feel like flying out to Atlanta. Which you won't because you have work to do."

"Don't tell me what I won't do," he muttered. "You don't know. I could surprise you."

"Do it, then. Surprise me."

"Well, I can't agree to surprise you. Then it's not a surprise." He sat up, and then leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his face close to the camera and nearly filling the screen. "So, if you quit tomorrow, and they tell you ‘thanks for the memories, now get out', then you'll have free time, right?"

I nodded. "In theory."

"Well, if that's how they react I think you should celebrate by coming out."

Lord knows I wanted to jump at the chance to go see him, be with him. Part of me felt like it would be hard to leave again, though and that it would be better for me to stay in Atlanta until I was actually leaving. I had a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it.

"I kind of just want to relax at home," I said slowly, wincing and not looking into the camera. "You know... hang out with my friends, especially since it looks like I'm leaving them. Maybe start packing." I braved a glance up the screen. "Are you mad at me?"

He shook his head, slightly, his eyes closed. "Not at all. You're right. I just thought I could see you sooner. I'm wishing you the best of luck in getting let go."

"Aw thanks. I've never wished for that so hard in my life."

"I've wished for stranger things." He yawned again, his mouth opening wide. He sounded like a lion. "So, you know what I think?"

"Hmmmm?"

His eyes opened, just enough to see the screen in front of him. His lips curled into a slight smile as he stared lazily into the camera. "I think you should take your shirt off."

I rolled my eyes. "Goodnight, JC.'

"No no no, don't go. I just haven't seen them in a long time." He bit his bottom lip and gave me puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, whatever. You saw them last night. And just a few days ago, in person. Horndog."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Like you haven't benefitted from my... horn...dog...ness." He laughed, his chuckle slow and low and seductive. He was such a fucking tease. "I think I remember a lot of moaning and yelping the last time you were here."

"Oh, no, no. I'm quiet as a church mouse, now because of that time Tyler could hear us. I still can't look him in the eye."

"Oh. Honey. I have to tell you something." JC glanced around, as if someone would be around and listening, then leaned forward and spoke in a low, secretive tone. "The other night, I happened to pass by Tyler's room and... holy shit. I thought he was gonna knock plaster off the walls. It was scary. I was thinking, either he's killing her or she's being overly dramatic." He stopped to catch his breath, laughing as he told the story. I giggled, more at him than with him and kind of in embarrassment for Tyler.

"So how long did this go on?"

"Couple hours. And it was like, once I heard them, I couldn't stop hearing them. I heard them wherever I went."

"A couple of hours? Shut the hell up."

"Honey, I'm not kidding. Finally, I left and I went to that little coffee shop down the street and went back around, I don't know, around 5 or 6 in the morning? I guess she was gone, to go get ready for work. Her car was gone. I went down there and like, pounded his door down."

"You woke him up? He obviously needed his rest. Hours, JC!"

"I just... I know sometimes we get loud, and I'm not the sex police or anything, but that was ridiculous and we're never that loud for that long. I told him if he was gonna keep dating her, they could do that at her house. Then I just walked out. He came and apologized later on." He was still laughing as he sat back in the chair again.

"Wow. Go Tyler. Go Allison. I didn't think she had a couple of hours in her."

"She had somethin' in her..."

"Oh my God, JC."  We laughed together for a minute and settled into a lull, which I filled with, "So...hours?"

"Well, it was off and on but I passed by around one, and at three I was still hearing her."  JC looked so unamused and irritated that I couldn't help but laugh. The more I laughed, the more irritated he seemed to get.

"I'm sorry; I know you're probably pissed. But that is the funniest thing I've heard in awhile."

"Well, I'm just saying, I think you can look him in the eye now." JC laughed, and then checked again to see Tyler wasn't around.

"Well. Maybe I can't. Hours? Have we ever had sex for hours?"

"You're getting hung up on the wrong thing, honey."

"Hours. Do you know how bad I want sex right now? A couple of hours would do me so good."

I recognized a spark in his eye and then a glint of something almost sad and longing. He scratched at his temple and ran his thick fingers through his short hair. "I... have to go. I have to finish up and get to sleep. Early day. Love you, talk to you tomorrow."

"Bye babe." I sent a kiss to the screen and disconnected.

Hours.  Go Tyler.

###

Unlike Sunday, Monday morning sped ahead, screaming its arrival with a bright burst of sunlight right in my eyes.

This was it. D-Day.

Updating every other person in my life, combined, was going to be easier than walking into the same office I'd been walking into for seven years, sitting in the same ratty, uncomfortable chair across from Gary, the only manager I'd ever had at StarTel, and handing over the short, two paragraph typewritten resignation letter. It was brief, to the point, terse even in its statement that my final day of work would be the 20th of November and that I hoped the plentiful notice would give them time to make a seamless transition to our clients.

I had no idea how he would take it. I didn't really care, truthfully.

My main concern was the thought that I didn't really have a plan, after November 20th. Besides, you know. Moving. To California. With no job. I'd never not had a job before. And after the house sold, I had no idea what I was supposed to do with myself. I hoped JC had plans, because... I was clueless.

But before I could float on the wings of unemployment, I had to actually become unemployed. I tried to dress normally but couldn't help snazzing myself up a little-a new blouse, a nice pair of slacks, my hair shiny and bouncy and sleek,  and the earrings JC bought me for my birthday glinting from underneath. I felt great for the first time in awhile, not really worried about the future. At least for the moment.

I had decided to wait until later in the day to request a meeting with Gary. Mornings were too rushed, with back to back meetings and conference calls. I put my all into my work that day, with a smile on my face and a friendly disposition. I felt like I was walking on air, like the sun was shining brighter and the fall air was crisper and the birds were chirping a song, just for me. By the time I walked into Gary's office, closed the door and sat in the chair across from him, I was feeling like a million bucks.

"So, what's up? You seem different, today."

Gary was dressed in his usual uniform of short sleeved button down shirt, loose slacks and beat up penny loafers. I think he'd been wearing the same shoes for the last seven years. I never wanted to see those shoes again, after November 20th. He leaned back in his chair, one ankle propped up on his knee and swiveled his chair back and forth. I don't know how he was so oblivious. It seemed obvious, to me, that I was leaving and had been preparing to leave for awhile.

"I feel different, today."

I smiled slightly and slid the single, folded piece of paper across the desk. He eyed it, his mouth turning down a little and reached toward it, sliding it off of the table and unfolding it. He read it, and then seemed to read it again. Then lifted his mud brown eyes to me and read it again.

"Wow."    

I nodded, once. "Yeah."

"Uhm...so..." He seemed at a loss for words, a feeling I completely understood. "So... the new guy?"

"He's not exactly new, but no, not really the new guy." I dipped my head and smiled, but not too wide. No sense in gloating-not that day, and not in his face anyway. "When I went out to Qwest, I had a great time. I liked being there. It made me want to live there. Barker asked me if I ever thought about moving west-- I hadn't ever thought about it, before then. And okay. Sort of the new guy. I'm in love with him and he lives there, so... yes but no." I laughed at my nonsensical explanation, but he seemed to get it.

"I kind of figured, but in this economy, I thought it would be awhile. I have to say, I'm really going to miss you, Serena. Is there... anything I could do to keep you on?"

"Open an LA office?"  I laughed and was relieved when he did, too. "You know, if you need a consultant, give me a call. Otherwise, I'm leaving to move to California, not just because I really hate working here."

"Okay. Alright." Gary folded the letter again and tapped it on the arm of his chair. "So...where are you working, out there? Not Qwest..."

"Not Qwest. I don't have a job yet." I caught a double take from Gary. It was ever so slight. Why, yes. I am crazy, to move to a new city and not have a job. "I have some great prospects. It'll just be easier to secure something from LA and not fly back and forth." I nodded, falling into silence, feeling like I was volunteering too much information. Gary just seemed so... shocked. Again, I wasn't sure how.

"I guess I should have seen it," he said with a sigh, leaning back again. He clasped his hands behind his head and spoke at the ceiling. "Barker called, right after Qwest ended, just... singing your praises. I took that as a sign that they wanted to do more business, maybe pass our name along. Not that he was encouraging you to move on."

"He didn't talk me into anything. Just something he said made me remember that I'm not chained to Atlanta, or to StarTel. I'm ready for the next level."

He sighed again, heavily, his eyes kind of droopy as he righted his chair. His cheeks took on a light pink glow as he stood and extended a hand. "You're gonna kick ass out there," he said, as he shook my hand. Firm, like he meant it. "I feel like we haven't treated you right, here. I hope you find a place that does."

"You can count on it. Can I count on a recommendation from you?"

"It'll glow so bright, it'll set fire to their inbox. Just send them my name."

I laughed and reached for the knob to leave but stopped when he called my name. The tone of his voice made me turn on my heel. He was standing, behind his desk, hands in his pockets, face beet red, eyes glassy.

"This company ...we are where we are, who we are, because of you. I couldn't ever replace you. Don't get me wrong, I'll try." He chuckled and swiped a finger under his nose. "But we both know there is only one you. I'm jealous of the next company that gets you."

Dammit. I was doing fine, until right then. My throat was closing up, my nose was flaring, and I felt my internal temperature rising. I had to get out of there.

"Thanks, Gary. I really...really appreciate that. Thanks, so much."  I headed for the door and slipped out before he could say anything else, bowed my head and marched to my office, walked in and closed the door before anyone could see the tears sliding down my cheek.

###

"Going? Staying? Serena?"

"What?"

"Going? Yes or no?" Melissa jiggled a large textbook at me and balanced precariously over a box.

"Uhmmmm. I don't know. Going. I guess. Yeah, going. I want all of my books." She nodded and placed it in the box among the other ‘keepers'.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help. I really should have been doing this awhile ago. I owe you my life."

If there seven circles of hell, at least five of them are packing. The other two are moving. I had a moving company coming to box up dishes, my garage and other items but some things I wanted to pack myself, like my books, my bathroom and my clothes. In the whirlwind of time between giving my notice at work (I lasted about two weeks before they told me I didn't need to keep coming in) and trying to get ready to move and travel to Orlando and then LA, my life was a series of boxes and suitcases and Subway sandwiches.

"Well, the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can relax, and just think about living with the pretty people in LA."

Bent over a box of books, Melissa's face was red and sweaty, but the bookcase was nearly empty and a neat stack of boxes lined the wall-all perfectly labeled. Another stack of boxes, intended for Goodwill, sat in the middle of the room.

I handed her a bottle of water and fell into the nearest chair, surveying the damage. There were boxes everywhere, in every room, seemingly in every corner of the house. The walls were bare, the shelves empty. Every little nuance of what made my house... mine...was secured and packed away, safely tucked into a dark box and stacked on top of another box, full of me. All that remained was the skeleton of the house, the furniture, the books, the incidentals. I planned to be out by November 15th to make room for Jen and Bryan to start moving their furniture in before their apartment lease expired at the end of the month. I would be staying with Melissa and Annette until JC flew in, and then we would be on the road to Orlando.

Following that, what might be classified as the most interesting road trip, ever.

"I just don't know how I'm gonna pull all this together. I'm so tired. Maybe I shouldn't go to LA after Thanksgiving."

Melissa frowned at me and took a swig of water. "Do not have your boyfriend on my ass. You're going, and that's that."

I pouted. "I'm getting tired of being bossed around."

"I'm not bossing you. I'm protecting you. JC will be hot, and not in the good way, if you're not going back with him. You know this. Are you scared, honey?" Melissa pushed me over on the chair and sat next to me.

"Kind of," I admitted. It felt good to say it aloud. It wouldn't change anything, I was still going, but saying it felt good.

"We've been saying this whole time that we're looking forward to there not being a countdown to when I'm going home. I'm... there. What if we fall into some really boring rhythm and he's like...'wow this so isn't what I thought it would be'?"

Melissa snorted in laughter. "What the hell are you talking about? You've been with him a year and you haven't realized that you two could watch grass grow together and he wouldn't be bored?"

"No, but..." I huffed a breath in frustration and sat up. "Okay, when you're dating, isn't the sex and the relationship much different than when you were living together? Don't you feel like when you're just visiting that you have to get in all you can, because you have to go ‘so long' without any? So then, once you're there with each other all the time, don't you lose some of that urgency?"

She pondered my question for a few seconds, then looked back to me and shrugged. "I guess. But it was also much better when we moved in together, because we didn't feel like we were stockpiling or making up for lost time, being greedy with each other. It seemed to me that we had much more foreplay and did more making love than having sex."

She paused, thought some more, opened her mouth to say something and closed it. I elbowed her, my eyebrows scrunched in curiosity.  

"Well...you don't... don't you feel like you guys take your time more when there isn't a rush to go somewhere? Like when he came and stayed for a couple weeks. Or when you were there for a week? Or three months? Didn't your sexual relationship with Robert change over time?"

I snorted. "No. Robert always seemed to be trying to climb inside me. He was all about getting off, and once he was satisfied, that was it. That's what I thought sex was until I met JC. I've never met someone so... it's like, I could tell by the way he kissed me, the way he touched me, the way he said my fucking name..." I whimpered and sighed and melted into the furniture, the memory of that evening overtaking me.

"I knew he was different. It was sensual and not animal. And... I know it sounds cliché, of course he's had a lot of experience, so he knows what he's doing. But I had built it up so much in my mind, you know? Over the years, with fantasies and dreams about him. And then to actually meet him in person and spend so much time with him, and he was just so sweet to me. Shit, by the time we got down to actually having sex, it was like... like he touched me, and I came."

I blushed as Melissa shot out a loud belly laugh. "Laugh if you will but that orgasm was one hundred times better than any orgasm Robert ever gave me." I laughed with her until we both ran out of breath, slouched side by side in the large, overstuffed chair, surrounded by boxes and the dust of uprooting a life.

"Anyway... I guess it is different when we know we'll see each other the next day and the day after that but it's still awesome. I guess I'm worried about nothing."

"Exactly.  Stress is worrying about things you can't change. Just take it one day at a time, and wake up every day determined to make that day a good one. You guys have something really good. I know you know that. You've got him. Stop worrying about losing him. It's annoying. And get your ass up, you have clothes to pack."

"Like I said, I'm tired of people bossing me around." She got up and turned to glare at me. I returned her glare, standing up and stretching my limbs, tight from all the activity the last few days. In the distance I heard the familiar chime of JC's ringtone on the cell phone.  "Saved by the bell. That's my man."

Over the next few days, I watched my house grow empty, room by room, floor by floor. Each piece of furniture had been wrapped and padded and loaded onto a moving truck and footsteps and voices started to echo. The last item to be loaded was the couch. As it was lifted off the ground and carried out, I saw an envelope flutter inside through the mail slot.  I walked over and picked it up and then realized it was a card. The return address was JC's P.O. Box in LA.

I broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out a plain card with a fuzzy colored pencil drawing of lilies on the front, autographed with JC's signature in the corner.  I opened the card and in neat handwriting was a message:

Serena,

I'm hoping that this card makes you smile. I wish I could be there to see it. I just wanted to send you something, hoping this would be the last piece of mail you get at this house. 

Awhile ago, I was kind of scared about something and in my fear, I said I wouldn't mind it, but that it was way, way, far off in the future. I know you know what I mean. I guess I wanted to say that maybe it's not as way, way far off as it was before. And I was kind of hoping that you meant it, when you said you'd love to join me, whenever that time comes. I'm not asking soon or anything but... you know me. I like to be prepared. :)

I hope I am worthy of being trusted with your heart. I know it's pretty fragile and I haven't done a real good job taking care of it. I'll do better, I promise. You already have mine, and you're taking care of it really well. I love you. I will always love you.

Looking forward to a new beginning for us.

JC

I sniffed and looked around, finding myself oddly alone. The house had been crawling with people for days, but at that very moment, I was by myself. I stepped out onto the back patio and took a deep breath, overcome with emotion.

"Serena we're just about done, the couch was the last thing to..." Melissa stopped as soon as she saw my face. "Oh no. What? What's wrong? Did JC call? Tell me!"

Silent, I handed her the card. She opened it and read it and looked up again, her eyes wet. "When did he send this?"

"I just got it. In the mail, just now." 

She shook her head and handed it back to me, swiping at her cheek. "I can't believe how much you worry about your relationship with him. Why can't you see how very special you must be to him?"

"You know, Mel...I'm standing here, and I'm looking at my empty house and my packed suitcases and I'm freaking out. I look calm, but I could lose it, at any second." I turned around to face her, unmasking the fear on my face and in my eyes, removing the brave front and the steady hand to reveal the absolute terror and the shakes that had been plaguing me.

"It's so much change. All at once. I'm so worried about this not working out and I keep feeling like I have to protect myself, because what if, what if, what if. And on the other side of the country, he... he so doesn't seem worried. He's so sure that this is gonna work. It's like he's known and planned and orchestrated all of this to happen, this exact way. I wish he could send me some of that confidence he has."

She rubbed my back and stood with me on the patio, barren of the usual furniture and decoration. "I don't mean to rush you but the movers want you to walk through and make sure they got everything. Come on, JoJo Dancer. Your life is calling."

###