120: Me

November 4

“It’s beautiful,” Izzie admired.

With the diamonds sparkling as her hand was turned sideways under the light of their favorite Chinese restaurant, Charlie was inclined to agree.  She’d been wearing it for two days now and still found herself staring at it and occasionally thumbing the inscription rather than doing something productive. 

Tonight was a rare Wednesday night out for the women, with Aaron saying that his wife needed a break and to schedule a playdate with Charlie.  Finding herself at a bit of a standstill with the governor’s portrait and emotionally exhausted from repeatedly making sure her sons were coping with Owen's arrest, Charlie seized the opportunity.  With Jon doing what Jon did and leaving her solo, she was grateful  for some alone time with her bestie.

“And I bet it cost a freaking fortune,” Izzie tacked on in an undertone.

Charlie took her hand back and shrugged without concern.  “I don’t know.  Maybe.” 

The only thought she’d given to the cost of her “trinket” was a passing one.  She’d asked for a rubber bracelet, not diamonds, so Jon was the one who had chosen how much to spend.   Her opinion was that he held a very lucrative job; it was up to him what he did with the fruits of his labor, and she wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. 

“Even if it did, you deserve it,” her friend conceded, offering her thanks to the server that was delivering her garlic eggplant.

Waiting until her own chicken and snow peas had been placed on the table and the server had gone, Charlie picked up the chopsticks to respond, “I can’t let myself worry about what it cost, but as to whether I deserve it or not is a different story.  You heard him sing to me at Vivi’s party.  Remember Superman?  Well that’s been the whole theme of this relationship – him rescuing me after I screwed him out of millions.”

It was becoming a recurring theme that was a lot like a blister.  No big deal at first, but the longer she went the more it bothered her.  Jon may insist that teammates and partners didn’t keep score, but there would come a point where this imbalance would become unbearably painful for Charlie, and she had to find a way to even things before it got there. 

“You know you can’t say something like that and not expect me to drag out my psychiatrist personality,” Izzie sighed with a chunk of eggplant balanced poised to pop in her mouth.  “Despite what you’ve become accustomed to, a relationship isn’t a competition.  It’s give and take.”

“Precisely my point.  It’s been all give and no take for Jon.”

“What about that mural you did for him?” the psychiatrist demanded after swallowing, while Charlie popped a snow pea into her mouth.  “The pictures you sent me…  That thing was a massive undertaking.  Did you let him pay you for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“If he allowed you to do the work without compensation, then he took.”

“That’s something I do for fun, Izzie,” she huffed in quiet exasperation.  “He’s changed my life.”

“Did you ever stop to think you’ve changed his?” came the challenge from across the table that was accompanied by the jab of a chopstick in Charlie’s direction. 

She’d thought about it quite a lot, actually.  The only things Charlie had brought to his life thus far were all unwelcome trials – except the sex.  He welcomed the sex and welcomed it regularly. 

“I’ve changed his, but not necessarily in a good way.”

Wide eyes lifted in silent supplication for what Charlie assumed was patience before Izzie took a deep breath and presented, “Let’s try this a different way, since you’re stubbornly cemented into that mental groove.  Tell me about life with Jon.  What’s the average evening/day/week with him like?”

She absently stabbed at a piece of chicken as she pondered it.  There wasn’t an average anything with Jon.  It all just depended on what his kids were doing and a thousand other things.

“Life with Jon isn’t predictable,” she finally admitted.  “He’s always on the go.  Kids, recording, writing, charity events, football games, odd performances, and God knows what else that I’m not even aware of.  There’s no guarantee I’ll see him any given day, or even that we’ll be in the same bed every night.  It just depends on how things work out.”

“He doesn’t make plans with you?”

Izzie didn’t look happy about that, and Charlie laughed at the pious pucker of her lips. “He makes plans, and he keeps the plans he makes, for the most part.  He’ll text a couple times a day, and I know I can call.  It’s not like I’m being shunned; it’s just the way his life is, and honestly…  I’ve been left to my own devices for so long that I’m not sure I could live in his coat pocket even if he wanted me to.”

“So how was it when he was gone on that tour?”

Thinking back to his month in Asia and the Middle East reminded Charlie of one very important fact that she’d almost forgotten.  “Anchors and lighthouses,” she said slowly. 

“Excuse me?”

Charlie’s eyes lifted from her friend’s dwindling pile of eggplant and rice to her face.  “He actually asked me for something during that trip.  Said he needed me to be his anchor to the real world while he was working.  Lilah says Dorothea was his lighthouse, but he specifically asked me to be his anchor.  Do you think there’s significance in that?”

With dark eyebrows knit, Izzie shook her head.  “I don’t even understand that.”

Ducking her chin with a silent grin, Charlie supposed that shouldn’t be surprising, so she lifted her head and explained, “In a weak moment, I asked Lilah if Dorothea was Jon’s anchor when they were married.  She said she considered Dorothea more of a lighthouse, showing him the way home when it was time.  An anchor, she said, kept him grounded no matter where he was.”

The corners of her friend’s mouth turned down as her eyebrows lifted.  “Huh.  That’s a pretty good analogy.”

“It seemed profound to me at the time,” Charlie agreed with a laugh.  “Do you think he was conscious of the word he chose?”

“I’d be highly surprised.  Men just don’t operate that way, at least not on a conscious level.  Maybe his subconscious knew the difference, or… Just because Lilah considered Dorothea to be a lighthouse, doesn’t mean Jon did.  He may just be trading anchors in his mind.”

“Mm.”  That thought was disappointing, even as she acknowledged that it was more realistic than her version. 

“Seafaring terminology aside, it sounds like he wants some sense of normalcy in a hectic life.  What do you think he considers normalcy?  For that matter, what do you consider normalcy?”

That was a good question.  Normal had so many different meanings that there wasn’t a legitimate guideline for it in this day and age.  Anything went, so how did she know what he considered normal?  Or even what she considered normal?

“Well…  If we’re going with the Ozzie and Harriet version of normal, which is what I grew up with, then normal is a husband earning a living while a wife raises the children and makes a home.  Dinner on the table every night and all that.”

“I’m not validating that definition, but Jon isn’t that much older than you, and from the press snippets I’ve seen, he grew up in a similar environment.  His dad was a hairdresser, but the familial structure was the same.  I also know that you haven’t lived that since you left home.”

“I’ve had to work my ass off since I left home.  I didn’t consider cooking and cleaning my responsibilities since I was the one going to work every day.  Soon, though, I won’t have a traditional job.”  Through narrowed eyes, she regarded her friend with contemplation and thought as she silently chomped her chicken.  “Do you think he wants Ozzie and Harriet?  Or shades of it?”

Izzie lifted slight shoulders.  “I don’t know what he wants, but it isn’t unreasonable to believe that a man raised in that kind of environment takes some comfort in it.”

A traditional mid-twentieth century woman Charlie was not.  She’d worked her whole life for starters, and she had new aspirations now.  Jon had given her those aspirations. 

“Charlie, there’s a chance you’re making something out of nothing,” her friend gently suggested.  “But if it’s that important to you, ask Jon what matters.  What he feels will even out the relationship.”

Laying her chopsticks on the plate still filled with food, she pushed it away with the slow shake of her head.  “That’s not the kind of thing you ask Jon.  It irritates him.”

“Irritates him?”

“Mm.”  She leaned forward onto the table, clasping her hands together as she recalled their “coming out” at Matt’s birthday party.  “He considers us partners and has from the day he decided we were in a relationship.  Whenever I try and bring up this subject, I get clichés about teammates not keeping score with one another.  I can’t think of a single thing that he’s asked for himself in the time we’ve been together.”

 Again the chopsticks swung through the air and pointed directly at Charlie.  “I understand you’re in love with the man, so maybe you’re blind to his flaws, but I find it hard to believe he’s never asked for anything.  He’s a fucking rock star.  They’re notorious for being demanding divas.”

Three months ago, she would’ve said the same thing, but he wasn’t what she’d ever imagined a celebrity would be.  He had dignity, character, morals and a heart that was bigger than he wanted anyone to know.  Taking care of his family was the most important thing and he did it the best way he knew how – by working his ass off seven days out of ten and then loving his kids with everything he had left for the remaining three.

“Not Jon.  I’ve just been mentally combing through the last months, and there’s only one thing I can remember him saying that he wanted for himself.”

“Okay.  So what’s that?”

There was a touch of wonder, a sprinkle of shame, and heaping scoop of love in Charlie’s voice when she told her best friend, “Me.”