Chapter 2: The World Begins To Tilt

“Cheque please!” 

Philip raised his hands in a slight beckoning motion to the young waitress named Mia who had taken their order to their corner table. She eagerly rushed over with a small piece of parchment with the damages done by the food. “How was everything?” 

Jo looked at Phil and him back at her. He looked at Mia and spoke in a tired voice. “Good, thank you.” 

The waitress began to take their plates filled with debris from demolished tacos and enchiladas. “Do we need anything else? Perhaps some desert?”

Again, Phil answered. “No, thank you.”

Mia nodded. “In that case, I will come back for the check.”

When she had gone, Phil turned back to Jocelyn who was now looking out of the window beside her secluded seat. “Do you want to pay or should I?”

She didn't bother to look at him, not a glance spared for anything but the pigeons pecking and the scattered remains of a once cheeseburger. “I know how you feel about this…” He trailed off. 

Ever since the day of the carnival about a week ago she has become more distant than before. She spent more time alone locked in the closet talking to someone, most likely her mother. She tended to do this when something was bothering her. Phil knew he should ask her but he was always bad about confrontation, a habit which he had picked up as soon as he was old enough for his dad to be able to find ways to be angry with him. Fear of a belt to the rear took away his fighting spirit. So he instead asked a general question in desperate hope of a specific answer.

“Hey, honey are you alright?” 

She nodded and mumbled a “Yeah.” 

Knowing he was not going to get the answer he wanted and not wishing to push the matter further he set his debit card on the unpaid bill. He stared at it for a minute before it was whisked away. 

“Do you just want to go home? I know we planned to…” 

“Yes,” Jocelyn sighed, “let's just go home.”

She stood from the creaky seat and began donning her green vest. As she reached for her beanie, a larger hand landed on hers pushing it down on the knitted brown surface. “Are you sure everything is OK? You can always talk to me, you know.” 

Without looking up she just pulled the beanie from under his soft grasp and shoved it on her head. “Yeah I just,” she gently grasped his hand in hers, “I'm tired and stressed…” 

Not to mention a little confused but I can’t tell him that, it would destroy him. 

She had kept her life so neat, much like her bed. But now Clint has introduced an entire new bedspread. One that didn’t quite fit the mattress but felt twice as soft. She looked Phil in the eyes and put on a sincere half smile. The kind that said ‘I know that you don’t believe me but I sure as hell will not let you ask anymore questions.’

“Let's go home, check on Emily. Maybe we could grab dessert on the way, does that sound good to you?” 

Cheesesteak was clearly not extremely pleased with her skirting around the question but instead of voicing it he only returned the half smile. 

“Sure, sounds good.”

It was rather odd that a small West Virginian town would have a Gelato place but such was the reality. It was a small shop residing not far from the college called Giovanni's. The shop was nothing exceptional to look at and, had you been new to town, you may have skipped over the rundown shop without a second glance. But those who look past the dilapidated exterior are greeted by a passionate Italian grandma who spoke broken English at best and her grandson who did most of the speaking for her.

The unnecessarily large bell on the door sang out its song as Phil opened it and Jo stepped in. It took her a moment, but when Nonna Giovanni finally recognized them, she gave them a quaint little smile before screaming into the back of the store. “Il nipote! si prende cura delle persone adorabili!” 

A prompt response from a much younger voice responded from behind the curtained door leading to the freezers. “Sì sì nonna dammi un secondo!” 

A tall young man with the same quaint smile walked out and, upon seeing them, his customer service smile turned into a genuine grin. The pair had been in Giovanni's numerous times in the past two years and had even been dubbed as: Familia.

“Ma familia! Ayyyy, how is my favorite couple in town?” 

Jo smiled in return. “Fantastic, Emilio! How is Nonna today?” 

He nodded softly “She is doing alright. Her memory is becoming no good. Sometimes better, sometimes worse. It is worrying me, Jo. But!” 

He clapped his hands together. “Enough of the woes for today, what can I get you amici!” 

Jo was part of the way through ordering an eye searingly yellow scoop of lemon when the cowbell strapped to the door reverberated through the store again. Normally someone else stepping into the shop would never be an issue. Had it not been for the all too recognizable stature and charm of the someone else that had rung the bell, then Jo would have finished placing her order flawlessly and taken a seat across from the counter. But as her eye caught the sight of Clint's smile she stumbled over her own tongue tied self and ordered dark chocolate. An error that should not have even been possible as the words ‘lemon’ and ‘chocolate’ sounded nothing alike and yet this was her order. Jo took a seat with her boyfriend and a second later she overheard Clint placing his order.

“I'll have what she had.” 

Phil probably said something about loving gelato or whatever but it was Clint that held her attention. Phil may not be the most attentive person in the world, at least in Jo’s eyes, but he was quick to pick up on this lack of acknowledgement and jealousy began to flood his body. 

Why can’t I hold her attention like that? What is so fantastic about him anyways? He is just another, admittedly hot, dude. Maybe… Nah he has nothing on me. I don't think… 

When the tall and annoyingly handsome man sat at a nearby table Phil excused himself and, with an absent minded nod from his girlfriend, he walked to the bathroom. Before leaving he turned on the video on his phone and laid it face down on the table.

When he returned the tall man had left and Jo had moved over a chair and was blushing slightly despite her best attempts to hide it. 

“Who was that, honey?” 

She looked down at her half eaten gelato “Just someone from class…” 

“Which class?” 

“Um…creative writing…I…uh picked it up a couple days ago. Figured it might be fun.” 

It was true that she had, in fact, picked up a creative writing class this semester but the reasons behind it were very different than those put into words. Ever since she had been first taught to hold a pen she had been absolutely enamored with the idea of writing. Unfortunately this love was backed by a complete and utter void of skill. She could make the ramblings of the maddest of men look like Shakespeare. That was what her father had told her anyway. She still wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a joke but still she felt its weight in her mind. The true reason she embraced this shame was not that it would be ‘fun’ but rather that Clint mentioned that he also went to Cambry State University or CSU and was, in fact, an English major with an emphasis in creative writing. So, if it led to more time with him, then creative writing she shall do. Phil fumbled with his phone for a second before actually stopping the recording. A couple of surface level comments and they were right back eating in the same awkward silence as the restaurant, maybe even worse than before. The walk home was no different. 

When they began to crawl into their respective sleeping attire. Jo: an oversized Brandon Sanderson tee shirt and pink fuzzy socks. Phil: an old stained pair of blue boxers and a white tank top. When he felt the time was right and his courage was high enough, Phil excused himself to use the bathroom making sure to transport his phone with him. When the door was shut he held the crummy speaker up to his ear and pressed ‘play’. Immediately the speaker blared to life, scaring poor Phil into turning it all the way down. Slowly, he inched the volume up until he could hear it properly before restarting the video of the ceiling. There was a moment of silence which was broken promptly by a voice that was all too familiar: “Hey, Clint…funny seeing you here hahaha.”

So his name is Clint. 

“I know right! I just discovered this place last week and it really is the best dessert place in town. I had no idea you also came here…” 

Don't lie, Clint. You definitely knew. 

“Of course! It's nice to see you. I’m just here with my boyfriend.” 

“Oh,” The sound of a sliding chair screeched through the speaker, “I didn’t know that you…well, I should probably leave…” His voice grew more distant. 

“No, no it's ok. You can stay.” 

She wants him there. 

He grimaced but couldn’t pull his ear away. “I don't want to make your boyfriend angry-” 

“Dont worry about it, Phil doesn’t get mad anyway. Come to think of it, I have never seen him actually mad ever.” 

Mad? She has seen me mad. Like when…eh…nevermind.

The sound of a hesitant sliding chair being slid back into the table from which it came.“Ok, does he also go to college here?”

“Oh, yes. He is a business major, like me.” 

She didn’t sound thrilled about that. 

“I will be honest with you, I’m not sure if I really love him anymore.” 

I’m sorry…what? She must not mean that. She doesn’t mean that. she wasn't herself today anyway. Maybe it is that time of the month? No, that was earlier. What is going on? If she doesn’t love me then why would she still kiss me or sleep with me? 

“Woah, woah, woah I’m not sure if you want to be doing this right now.” 

Again the screech of the chair. “I really should go, see you around Jo.” 

Foot steps, the ring of the door closing. Jo began to mumble to herself. He could only make out some of the words. “Oh God…headache…Maybe…wrong?” 

Click.

See? She's just tired. She hasn’t been sleeping great even with the medication. No, no it definitely is that time of the month. I just forgot. How silly of me. I don’t think I can do anything right anymore. 

He pulled the speaker away from his ear, flushed the toilet for posterity and walked out, making sure to pet Emily on the way to the bedroom.

She closed the computer and stood from her chair in the cafe. The cafe in question had been closed for half an hour but it had turned out that Emory was not the only fan but that the whole crew was composed of fans and so they were willing to let her stay for a bit longer. Waving her gratitude, she stepped through the door and into the rain soaked street. Had it not been for her umbrella, she too would have been soaked in a matter of seconds. Taking a deep breath of storm saturated air, she began to walk in the direction of her apartment. 

Being a bestselling author does not exactly stop you from having to live in a studio and she was no exception. After fifteen minutes of splashing through the lake of New York City she arrived at the door of a tall apartment building as uninteresting as the gray concrete of the sidewalk. A short trek up the stairs and she arrived at 301. Although she often lamented this living situation, her best friend of a bygone time told her to be grateful for what we have. Not to yearn for what we do not. She found that she was grateful for the warmth. Grateful for a place to sleep and that the rain had not breached her sealed window. Grateful for her little calico cat, Elsa, that kept her company through the night and kept her from being so lonely. Taking one last look at her laptop, she set it onto the night stand beside her bed and plugged it in. Maybe that thing about Jo not sleeping well was just projection but Madison prayed that tonight she would finally get some shut eye.