by Elicia Hyder
“I told you, he slept through the movie. Then he made me soup, we ate, and he went home. That was it.”
I had Bodhi on his leash, and he was trotting beside me.
“When are you going to see him again?”
“After I leave here, actually. I told him I’d drive Bodhi back to his place. Clay’s coming to pick him up at noon.”
She groaned. “That sucks. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“How’d you take the news about Clay?” she asked.
I’d told her while we geared up that he was getting remarried.
“I cried, but without any tears because I was dehydrated.”
“He’s such a douche.”
“I’m aware. I really don’t want to talk about him either.”
“Fair enough. Did you ever ask Jason to the Slammy Awards?”
I hopped over a rock on the path. “We actually discussed it, but he has to work. He did say he would have liked to go. And that he wasn’t crazy about the idea of me taking someone else.”
“Hey! That’s something,” she said, nudging my arm with her elbow pad.
“I guess. I did decide what I’m going to wear.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. A dress from college, actually. Kiara gave me some ideas, and I updated its look a bit.”
Her face soured. “I hate you sometimes, Grace.”
My mouth fell open.
“I can’t even remember the clothes I wore in college, much less fit into any of them.”
“I am having to alter it a bit. You’ll see.”
“I’m sure it will be spectacular.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ve got the team meeting on Monday night, don’t forget” she said as we rounded the corner near the Parthenon.
“Have you thought any more about the derby-committee thing?”
Monica hopped over a clump of leaves on the path. “I actually took Maisie skates shopping yesterday, so I guess I’m going to coach the juniors.”
“Seriously?”
She smiled. “Yeah. At least it will be something fun she and I can do together. I still can’t start until after the concert though. What do you think you’ll do?”
I shrugged. “I figured whatever you chose, we’d do together. But I’m trying to get out of the world of children these days. I think junior derby would be counterproductive. Maybe I’ll go do marketing with Lucy.”
“One article in a newspaper and now you’re an expert?” she teased.
“Something like that.” We turned the corner near the lake. “Did I tell you I got my tickets to your show?”
“Tickets? As in plural? Are you going to bring Jason?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about bringing Mom.”
She linked her fingers together in prayer. “Please bring the hot cop.”
“We’re not dating, Monica.”
“And we’re not skating at the park right now. What other lies shall we tell, Grace?”
A flash of something gray scampering across the road ahead caught my eye…but not before it caught Bodhi’s. He darted forward, sounding a chorus of gleeful yelps as he charged down the path. My left arm flailed as I tried to hold tight to his leash with my right hand and stay upright on my skates.
I saw the squirrel as it leapt from the path, down the hill toward the water. “Bodhi, no!”
It was too late.
He cut left, spinning my skates and pulling me sideways. I dropped the leash as I went down on all fours into the grass. I slid a couple of feet and rolled once, landing flat on my back.
I lifted my hands. A stick was jutting out of my right wrist guard, and I screamed when I pulled it out.
“Are you OK?” Monica shouted.
I ripped off the wrist guard, and blood trickled from a gash in my palm down my forearm. I swore and kicked my wheels against the cold ground. Bodhi bounded over and tried licking my face.
Pushing him away, I rolled to sit up. “No more skating with you, you big oaf.”
Monica walked over, carefully stepping sideways on her skates. “You all right?” she asked again.
“Yeah. Just impaled my hand with a stick is all.” The dog plopped down directly on my lap. “Bodhi, move.” I pushed him off me.
Monica offered her hand and then helped me up.
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing the leash off the ground.
“Think it needs stitches?” Monica asked, leaning over my hand.
I shook my head. “No. It’s just a bad scratch. I think I’m done skating for the day though.”
“Yeah, you need to get that cleaned up. There’s a lot of dirt in it. Want to skate down to the bathroom?”
The thought of an open wound inside the public-park bathroom made me queasy. “It’s about time to head out anyway. I think I’ll clean it out at Jason’s.”
“Well, I’m sure the good officer is certified in first aid.”
“I hope so.” I tugged on the leash. “Come on, Bodhi. Let’s go.”
I drove with one hand across town to Jason’s house. I’d been there once or twice before when we were still in college. The ranch-style house looked completely different now. Its old red bricks had been painted white, and dark-wood posts supported the covered front porch. Freshly painted chocolate shutters framed the front windows, and purple and yellow mums sat beside the arched double front doors.
I parked next to Jason’s squad car, then let Bodhi out of the back seat before gathering his bowl, his food, and his treats. My feet seemed to weigh a thousand pounds as I trudged up the smooth concrete handicap ramp to the entrance.
Jason pulled the door open before I even rang the bell. “Hey, Grace.”
I looked around, confused. “Are you psychic?”
He laughed and stepped out of my way. “No. Mom saw you pull in through the window in the kitchen. Come on in.” He took Bodhi’s leash before I could even ask if the dog was allowed inside. Bodhi trotted in ahead of me, and Jason bent to unhook his leash.
The inside was unrecognizable. Where I remembered small, boxy rooms was now a completely open floor plan. There was a half wall near the hallway and a support beam between the kitchen and the dining area. That was it. The furniture was sparse, and the pieces were accessible by wide pathways. “Wow. This place looks amazing,” I said as I put Bodhi’s bag down by the door.
“Thank you. We lived in knee-deep sawdust for about a year, but it was worth it. Right, Mom?”
To my left, in the remodeled kitchen, Jason’s mother turned in her electric wheelchair. The right side of her face twisted downward, and her right arm lay withered in her lap. She smiled with the good half of her mouth. “Hello, Grace,” she said as well as she could.
Jason stood beside me, his hand on the small of my back “Grace, you remember my mom, Marybeth Bradley.”
“Of course.” I walked to the kitchen and knelt down beside her chair. “Hello, Ms. Bradley.”
She offered me her left hand and I took it with my hand that wasn’t crusted with blood. “Please, call me Marybeth. It’s nice to see you again after all these years. You’re just as lovely as always.”
I smiled, but I found it odd that she’d ever thought of me as lovely. We had never really known each other well. “It’s good to see you too. Your house is beautiful.”
“My son did it for me.” She smiled up at Jason, who was standing behind me. “He’s a good guy.”
“I think I’d have to agree.” I pushed myself up and turned toward him. I showed him my bloody palm. “Mind if I use your bathroom? I had an accident at the park.”
“Geez, Grace,” he said, gently taking my wrist. “What did you do now?”
“Bodhi and I went skating.” I grinned down at his mom. “Bodhi saw a squirrel.”
She laughed.
Jason pulled on my arm. “Come downstairs. I’ve got a first-aid kit in my baseball bag.”
I thought of Monica and smiled.
“Wow. I was not expecting this,” I said, wide eyed, as he walked to the closet.
“Yeah, it turned out really well. It’s nice to have some space that feels like my own after sharing the house for so long. Mom likes it too.” He grinned over at me from the closet. “It’s easier for me to sneak girls in now.”
“Priorities.” I laughed and ran my clean hand along the back of the leather sofa. He had an old vintage trunk for a coffee table, and a desk made out of reclaimed wood. “It’s really nice in here. Did you decorate this place yourself?”
He unzipped a large duffle bag on the floor. “Uh, no.” There was a strange pause. “Actually, a girl I dated for a few months was an interior designer.”
“Ohhh,” I said, drawing out the word. “Can I get her number?”
He laughed as he started pulling things from the bag: a binder, a notebook, a few water bottles, a helmet…
“Here we go.” He stood with a small white box in his hand. “Come to the sink.”
I followed him to the small kitchen, where he turned on the water and handed me a bottle of hand soap. “Wash.”
Bodhi plopped down by my feet, perhaps sensing the pain of the warm water burning my shredded palm. I cringed as I rubbed the cuts with soap.
Standing beside me, he looked over my shoulder. “That’s one hell of a scratch.”
“I pulled a stick out of it. It was jammed in there under my wrist guard.”
“Ouch.” He ripped a paper towel off the roll and gently dried my hands. “Have a seat at the table.”
We sat beside each other at a small bistro two-top, and with his teeth, he tore open a package of antibacterial cream. “This shouldn’t hurt at all.” Still, I braced myself as he smeared it over the gash and the smaller scrapes. Then he covered the whole area with a gauze pad and pulled out a roll of athletic tape.
Somewhere between his carefully laid strips of tape, I got lost staring at his face. He hadn’t shaved in the few days we’d spent together, and the perfect amount of chin stubble—somewhere between Adam Levine and David Beckham—covered his angular jaw line. “This looks good on you,” I said, tracing my free index finger down the side of his face.
He smiled. “Think so?”
“Yeah. I like it.”
“It’s outside of our grooming standards for work, but it’s my day off, so…” He looked up. “You’re all done.”
I wiggled my fingers. “Thank you. I hope you’re keeping tabs on how many times you’ve had to take care of me this week. I feel like I’ll never be out of debt to you.”
He wadded up the trash and dumped it in the garbage can by the wall. “I kinda like you in my debt. I plan on collecting all at once, big time.”
I laughed. “Sounds good to me. So when’s my demon ex-husband supposed to show his ugly face?”
Jason looked at his watch. “About twenty minutes.”
With a heavy sigh, I slid off my chair and into the floor beside my dog. “I guess I’d better go so we don’t get busted.” I patted my lap. “Come here, Bodhi.”
He got up and padded over, then flopped across my legs. I bent over him, wrapping my arms around his fluffy neck.
Jason leaned his elbow on the table, looking down at us. “If it helps, I told Clay I’d dog sit for him anytime.”
I nodded, turning my face toward the wall as tears prickled my eyes. “I love you, Bodhi,” I whispered.
He lifted his head under mine, then turned to lick my cheek.
With a sniff, I dried my eyes on my sleeve and pushed myself off the floor. “Thanks again, Jason.”
He got up, leaving his water on the table. “I’ll walk you out.” Halfway up the stairs, Jason’s cell phone rang. “It’s Clay.”
I stopped walking and turned around. Bodhi looked up, confused, suspended on the stairs between us.
Jason tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He listened for a moment.
I crossed my fingers and closed my eyes, silently praying. Please say you’re not coming. Please say you’re not coming. Please say you’re not coming.
Another thought occurred to me and my eyes popped opened. Maybe Clay was dead and someone was using his phone to ask Jason to keep Bodhi forever.
Jason brow rumpled. “Yeah. Of course that’s fine. How far out are you?” As he listened, his eyes widened. “OK. See you in a second.” He ended the call. “We have a problem.”
“A second?”
“Yeah. Give me your keys. I’ll put your car in my garage.”
I pulled my keychain from my pocket and he snatched it from my hand. “There’s a door to the garage beside my room. Go in there and hit the garage door button for me.”
“OK.”
He squeezed past me and took the stairs up two at a time.
“Be right back, Mom! And if anyone asks, you haven’t seen Grace!” Jason called as I went back to the basement. Bodhi followed me.
In the corner across from his kitchen were two doors, one on each wall. I opened the first and froze when I saw his bedroom.
A king-sized, wood-panel bed was centered on the wall, unmade, like we could have just been tangled up in the charcoal comforter. A huge gun safe was beside the dresser. And a full bookcase was beyond the bed.
I may have had a hot flash.
I slammed the door and tried the other. Bingo. Jason’s truck was parked inside. There were two illuminated buttons on the wall. I pressed the top one. The door behind his truck began to raise. “Crap.” I closed that door, and hit the other button. That time, the second bay door slowly slid up.
Jason was already in my car with the whistling engine running. I really needed to get that fixed. As soon as he pulled it into the garage, I closed the door. When Jason got out, he ducked down to look out the closing bay door. “I think he just pulled in.”
“That was close.”
“Yeah.” He jogged around the car and came in the door where I was waiting. “What’s wrong with your car? It’s making a noise.”
“I dunno. A hole in something or other. Do you think he saw my car?”
“No. Wait down here until he’s gone. I’ll try to get rid of him quickly.” He slapped the side of his leg as he walked through the room. “Come on, Bodhi.”
Jason started up the stairs, but Bodhi sat down by my feet.
“Go. He’ll take off running when he hears the doorbell,” I said.
Jason nodded and went on up.
But then the doorbell rang, and Bodhi just looked up at me. I put my hands on my hips. “You know it’s him, don’t you?”
His head flopped to the side.
“Go on,” I whispered. “You’re going to get all of us into trouble.”
I heard the door open upstairs, followed by muffled voices. Grabbing Bodhi’s collar, I pulled him up the stairs behind me.
“We’ve had a good weekend,” Jason was saying when I reached near the top.
“Is this his stuff?” Clay asked.
“Yeah, let me get that. Bodhi!”
I tried pushing the dog up the last couple of steps. He wouldn’t budge. There was a crinkling of paper before Jason called out again. “You want a treat, boy?”
At that, Bodhi took off running. I tried to not take it personally.
“Hey, what are those?” It was Clay’s voice.
“Dog treats,” Jason answered.
The paper crinkled again. “Those are from Milo’s.”
“Shit,” I whispered.
“You went to Milo’s, over by Grace’s apartment?” Clay asked.
“Yeah! Sure. Dogs love that place!”
Good lord. I rolled my eyes. Jason couldn’t lie to save
his life.
There was silence, and I didn’t need to be at the front door to know that it was tense.
“Did you see Grace?”
“Just for a minute.” That lie was only slightly more convincing. “She really misses him, Clay.”
“How would you know she’s missing him?”
There was a pause. “We talk sometimes.”
More silence.
My heartbeat seemed to echo off the stairwell walls.
“Jason.” Clay’s voice was tight. He was trying to control his temper. “Are you seeing my wife?”
“Your wife?” I mouthed, screaming in my head.
“I think you mean your ex-wife,” Jason said. “And no. I’m not. At least, not like that.”
Jason’s answer was a swift kick to the gut.
I listened hard, but there was only more silence. I could imagine Clay’s eyes narrowing with skepticism.
Finally, Jason spoke again. “You’re like a brother to me. I wouldn’t do that.”
I nearly rolled down the stairs.
“I’m sorry, man,” Clay said. “Grace just makes me crazy.”
“I make you crazy?” I whispered.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jason told him.
“Did you hear the news?” Clay asked.
“No. What?” Jason lied.
“I’m getting married again.” Clay didn’t sound happy about it, which made me feel only slightly better.
“Didn’t you just get divorced?” Jason asked.
“Yeah, but you know…the baby will be here in a few months. Ginny thought it’d be best to go ahead and get the wedding out of the way. Hey, you wanna be my best man?”
Jason laughed nervously.
“I’m just kidding. We’ll probably do something small. Maybe elope. I hear Bora Bora is nice.”
My hands clenched into fists. “You son of a…”
“I hope you’re happy, Clay. You and Ginny certainly deserve each other,” Jason said.
“Thanks, man.”
I rolled my eyes. He couldn’t even tell anymore when his best friend was slamming him.
“How about a drink sometime this week so we can catch up?” Clay asked.
“Sure. Just let me know when,” Jason answered. “Here’s the dog’s stuff. Seriously, I’ll keep him anytime.”