Margaret Sexton - A Kind of Freedom

She called Terry during her break to tell him to meet her at City Park. She left the baby with her mama, then drove home to change. She picked over what to wear for too long before she decided on a red scarf, tight blue jeans, a black-and-white striped shirt, and tall boots. Her appetite had eased up since Terry’s return, and she liked the way her shirt lay flat all the way to her waist even when she sat down. She wavered between red and pink lipstick. She didn’t usually wear any on outings with T.C., but the red looked so good against the scarf and this was going out with her husband. How often had she spent time with an adult who wasn’t her mama lately?

They had agreed to meet at the parking lot north of Big Lake. Terry was always early, but Jackie ran on time, and just like old times, when she got out of the car he was already there in his navy-blue down jacket, his hands in the pockets of the jeans she’d given him last Christmas. She marveled at the sight of him right where he was supposed to be, where she had been expecting him, and she couldn’t imagine anything brighter, him waiting for her on the edge of the lake, beside an oak tree strung up with wind chimes ringing out a five-note scale.

“You look good,” Jackie said. She was nervous and she looked down when she reached him.

“You too.”

He didn’t move his hands from his pockets, and she wondered if he was nervous too. It felt funny being here without the baby, like a first date with someone she’d spoken to only on the phone a few times, and even though those calls had been comfortable, the new context unnerved them.

He reached out suddenly and they hugged with just one arm; when their heads collided, they laughed.

“This is nice,” he said, seeming more comfortable, looking around at the women hustling down the path with strollers, the water rippling in the breeze. “Real nice. What do you do here though?”

They laughed again.

“I normally come out with the baby,” she said. “We walk a few loops around the water.” She pointed to the lake, the ducks swimming along its shiny top. “Then find a bench and relax. We could do that now, if it’s all right with you.”

He nodded, and they started. They passed cyclists with babies behind their seats, picnickers sharing sliced oranges with their children, and Jackie felt comfortable enough to smile at them; most times she was alone at this park with T.C., flashing her wedding ring to whomever might be looking, as if it meant anything if there was no one beside her.

“My mama has the baby,” she said, “all night if we want. I was thinking after this we could go to Dooky Chase’s like old times.” She reached for his hand. “Something special, you know.

“So tell me about it,” she added before he could answer.

“About what?”

“The new job, what else?”

“Aww, it’s not much.” He was being humble, but she could tell he was proud. “Mostly sitting in a cubicle listening to people complain about their orders, but I like people, and it’s a fresh start. I needed this, you know.”

She nodded. “What about the coworkers?” she asked. “You like them?” She heard an edge of nervousness creep into her voice.

“The ones I met seem cool. I’m the only black, as usual.”

“That’s okay,” she said. She was careful about what she said next; she didn’t want to nag. “Maybe keep to yourself this time, anyway,” she added after a while. “You have so many friends; you don’t need new ones at work.”

“You got that right.” He squeezed her hand, pulled her closer. “You and T.C. are all I need,” he said. Then, “You smell good. What’s that?”

“Soap,” she smiled.

“Oh, okay, you’re getting real fancy, taking showers in the morning and whatnot.”

“Anything for you.” She winked at him.

He paused, then said, “Tell me something, if I jumped in the water, would you save me?” It was an old joke between them, started during their early nights at the Lakefront when he confessed to her that he couldn’t swim.

“Hell, no.” Jackie play-pushed him backward. “Not with my hair just permed.”

He laughed. “What, girl? Didn’t you tell me you and Sybil took swimming lessons back in the day? What’d you do with your hair back then?”

“Well, I didn’t have a man to impress back then.”

“Oh, is that right? And is there somebody now? That you’re trying to impress?” He leaned in, studying her face, gazing at it as if he’d be questioned on the details of it and couldn’t afford to forget.

She pulled him closer, shut her eyes, when she heard someone: “Look at the happy couple.”

Jackie blinked, felt her husband pull away.

The white man in front of them looked familiar but Jackie couldn’t put her finger on why.

Terry recognized him though. He pulled back from her more when he spoke. “Hey, Michael, what’s going on, man? So good to see you.”

Jackie could tell he was happy to see the man, but he was embarrassed about something too.

“Don’t pay us any mind,” Terry went on, “we’re just horsing around. Don’t get much time out without the baby,” and that sentence came out like an engine dying; all the comfort and excitement that had been building inside them since they were teenagers seemed to dissolve right there at their feet.

Michael didn’t know it though. He was all handshakes and shoulder pats. “You look so good, buddy. I’d heard you had gotten yourself together, but it’s one thing to see it in person.”

“Oh, thanks, man. Wouldn’t have been able to do it without my family, let me tell you.” Terry looked back at Jackie. He started to introduce her, but the man cut in.

“Anyway, you still keep up with Darren and Chase?”

“Nah, man, I haven’t heard from them.”

“Oh, okay, well, I’ll have to tell them I ran into you. They’re still over at the VA.”

It hit Jackie then who the man was; he wasn’t the one who had introduced Terry to the drugs, no, but a member of that same crew, and he could have been one of the ones who’d gotten high with Terry on coke those nights, then abandoned him as soon as he veered into crack. In her early research she had read about triggers, that addicts shouldn’t go places where they’d taken drugs, that they shouldn’t hang out with the people they used with, that seeing those same faces, or smelling the kitchen of the restaurant where they’d smoked in the bathroom might send them reeling back. She looked this man up and down, up and down. Maybe he was high now. Sybil had warned her people on cocaine had dilated pupils, that they wiped their noses a lot, that they couldn’t stand still. This guy seemed normal though; he was over-the-top happy but maybe he was just glad to see his old friend okay.

“Have you found anything yet?” Michael went on. “I think hiring is starting to pick up, and if you want me to put a word in—”

Terry cut him off. “No, no, buddy. Don’t worry about it. I have something now.”

“Oh? What is it?”

Terry mumbled the name of the place, and Michael’s face scrunched up in surprise.

“You’re kidding. You can do better than that, Terry. You were the smartest one out of all of us.”

“I don’t know about all of that,” Terry shrugged, but Jackie knew; everybody did; it was just a fact. She started to say something to that effect, but Terry kept talking.

“It’s a process, buddy.” His voice sounded strained all of a sudden, and Jackie cleared her throat.

“Oh, excuse me, Jackie, you remember Michael?”

She nodded.

“Of course, of course, the beautiful Jackie, and how’s the baby?” Michael asked.

“Hungry,” Jackie said, and they laughed. “He’s twenty-five pounds now, not even one year old.”