“Do you have any wine here? I feel like I need wine.” Elbows on the counter, my head dropped into my hands. “Actually, forget that.” Spinning, I walked into the living room, reaching into the entertainment center behind the tuner and pulling out Chance’s bottle of Powers.
I returned to the kitchen—and to Ally’s arched eyebrow. “Don’t judge me.”
“Looking mighty guilty there, Jess.”
“I am.” I groaned and took a sip right from the bottle. “I’m feeling guilty because I think I’ve been a terrible friend to her. She’s going through something and instead of pushing her to let me in, I’ve just recoiled into my own quickly-unraveling life.”
“You mean because of Chance?” Damn her perception.
“Asshole.” Another swig of the whiskey burned down my throat. “But that’s not the only reason.” I was crumbling before my very own eyes. “I’m afraid to talk to her because I’m afraid that she resents me for her reality and I don’t want to remind her of that.”
“What do you mean?”
I stared a hole through the granite. Even all these years later, talking about it made the wound feel fresh.
“The whole endometriosis diagnosis. And the fact that I was pregnant. And the fact that somehow Chance has worked his way back into my life.”
“But you lost the baby,” she whispered softly. I could count on one hand the number of times those words had been said aloud.
The same number of times a little piece inside of me died.
“Still… I was still able to have one,” I confessed. “I will be able to have one.”
The doctors couldn’t give me a good reason for why I lost my baby. They ran every test. They took blood from every extremity. I was whole and healthy. I could have told them though, a broken heart makes for a broken body.
The stress of moving, of leaving Chance, of finding out a month into the Texas sunshine that I was pregnant… it all took a toll that couldn’t be measured.
And that was my fear. That Tammy’s silence around us was my fault. That I was just the constant reminder of someone who almost had—and still could have—everything that she could only dream of.
“Jessa,” Ally breathed my name and reached for my hand. “She would never resent you for that.” Even though her incredulous exhale emphasized how right she was, I was still terrified of hurting my best friend. “You know she would never do that. I think you’re the only one putting those thoughts out there. And why would she care about Chance?”
Water of Life.
That’s what the old Gaelic word for whiskey comes from. I’d only taken a few sips (I think) and I could feel that water seeping in and flushing out all the dark little secrets that I’d tried to turn to dust. I’d wanted a fresh start in a familiar place, but it looked like the familiarity only served to fuel my confessions.
“Ally, there’s something that I have to tell you.”
Was I crying?
“Jessa,” I felt her hands on my shoulders, “what’s wrong? I’m sorry. Did I say something…” I shook my head frantically. “I know you don’t like to talk about it—I didn’t mean—“
“It was his, Al. Chance was the father,” I blurted out.
I saw the instant it registered as the color seeped from her face.
When I’d moved back and started hanging out with Ally and Tam, we’d had one girls’ night where we got drunk and some secrets were revealed. Ally confessed about what happened with her ex-boyfriend, Dylan; Tammy spoke freely for the first time about her endometriosis and potential infertility. And I… I shared that I realized I was pregnant when I was in Texas only to, about a month later, lose the baby. Tammy already knew all of it; but she was the only one who knew that I’d gotten pregnant before I left for Texas, even though I didn’t know at the time of moving. She was also the only one who knew who the father had been.
She’d been the first person to hear the words—‘I lost the baby’—out loud.
That girls’ night, I’d left the part about Chance out. Ally was his sister—and already distraught that he had disappeared. There were too many layers that admission would have added to the conversation, layers that neither of us wanted to visit at that time.
And not the cake kind of layers, not the good kind. More like onion layers—strong, potent, and sure to make you cry.
But here we were, peeling onions.
“I don’t understand,” she finally said softly.
“The baby was Chance’s. I didn’t know when I moved and then after I did… after everything that happened… I was the last person he wanted to speak to.”
“So… you never told him? He has no idea?”
“I tried to… once. But I-I didn’t… get ahold of him.” Fact: I’d called him the second I realized. And in the next second, when some girl answered his phone with, ‘Chance is a little busy at the moment’ between moans and grunts, I realized what a mistake it had been.
Not just because he hated me, but because I’d left for a reason. If loving me was enough to entice him to give up on his dream, I was afraid what a baby would do. Instead, I took a step back, thinking I would regroup—get the shock of being pregnant and starting college under control, give him some time to cool off, and then call him again.
But then I lost her… or him.
No baby. No Chance. Just Jessa.
Ally squeezed me tightly and I came out of my memories to realize that she’d wrapped me in a hug—and that I was crying into her shoulder.
This was not what I’d planned on happening when I came over here tonight.
“I’m sorry, Ally. I should—“ Hiccup. “—have told you before.”
Just take a deep breath, Jessa.
“Everything about that time in my life was so painful. What happened between Chance and me—and the thought of telling you about it. Most days, I think it was the right thing to do. But sometimes, I-I really wonder if it was. Or if I just made everything worse.”
“Jessa, I can’t begin to imagine everything about how you feel. I know what it’s like to lose someone, but not someone that was physically a part of me. I know that words probably can’t help, but I can’t not say anything.” She reached over to hand me a tissue, letting me wipe the mess off of my face. “I will tell you what a very strong woman told me a few months ago, sitting in front of a spread of Tarot cards: When people are hurting, they don’t think straight.”
Those had been my words to her in reference to Emmett.
“Whether that means then or now. Whether that means you or him. It is the truth.”
“I know, Al.” My watery attempt at a smile was only marginally successful. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but he’s your brother, and with what happened between us… I didn’t want you to hate me, too.”
And… the tears began to fall again.
“Oh, Jess,” she rocked me in her arms, “I could never hate you. He’s my brother and I love him, but you are my best friend and you’ve been there for me through a lot these past few months. I love you and I don’t judge you for your choices, just like you never judged me for mine.”
“Thank you.” Air escaped from my lips like it was being emptied from a dump truck. The build-up of tension in my body decreased appreciably.
“That being said, you need to talk to Tammy. And, while he may be my brother, if he’s really being an asshole—which I have no problem believing that he is—you should request that someone else see him.”
I laughed, pulling back from her arms and reaching for my La Croix instead of the whiskey. A smart move.
“I’m tempted. But one, I think it will look bad if I try to give back not only my first patient, but one who requested me.”
“I’ll go with you and vouch that currently, my brother is being a giant ass.”
Emmet was right for calling this girl ‘sunshine,’ she literally always found a way to light up any situation.
“No.” I shook my head. “But thank you.”
; “You sure? I hate seeing you like this.” She chewed on her lip. “You’re always so strong; I’ve never seen anything… anyone… be able to break you like this.”
Everyone has their Kryptonite.
“I want… I need to help him.” My voice broke as I wiped the scars of my tears from my face. Ugh. I hated when I cried. I was such an ugly crier. “You are right… about me being right. Chance is hurting and he’s not thinking straight. After everything that I’ve done—how I’ve hurt him—if I can help him in any way to realize that snowboarding can still be a part of his life and that he’s not a failure just because he fell… I owe him that. I’ve had eight years to prepare for his anger; I can survive five weeks.”
I hoped.
It may have been named as the ‘water of life,’ but that whiskey was more like a truth serum for me. Bubbling up from my heart to say that my need to help Chance was because of far more than just guilt.
She eyed me warily.
“Ally, trust me. I can handle your brother. I was the one who threw him out of his own house, remember?”
She couldn’t deny that. She’d been there the day he’d found out about her and Emmett and almost beat Emmett to a pulp. Still, her expression didn’t falter.
“If you say so. But, if you want my opinion, the only thing that you owe him is the truth about what happened. Everything else—while I would be eternally grateful if you pulled him from his rut—is not your fault nor your responsibility. Just like Tammy not being able to have a baby is not your fault either.”
“I know,” I groaned. Yet, I still felt like their pain was all my doing. And I couldn’t shake it. “Alright, I’m going to go. I guess I’ll be back tomorrow with my stuff. Tam will be thrilled.”
“Yeah, she will. If I have to hear her mention one more time about the pillows being moved or having to make room for your La Croix bottles in the fridge, I’m going to revoke my offer to help her at the daycare.”
I left the house laughing. The car ride back to Tammy’s apartment was a different story.
“Tammy?” I knocked on her door. It wasn’t that late, but she was already in her room. I could see the light shining underneath.
“Yeah?” Her voice was muffled.
“Can I come in?”
Click. The door unlocked and opened, revealing Tammy in light blue flannel pajamas. Her eyes were red and swollen.
“Oh my God, Tammy!” Grabbing her shoulders, I pushed her back until her knees hit the edge of her blue-floral duvet-covered bed. She immediately sat and I joined her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Looks like I wasn’t done crying for the night.
“I-I’m f-fine—“
“Don’t even think about lying to me, Tamsin Charlotte Lucas. This is where I draw the line. Spill.”
There was a moment of silence. She was going to try and brush me off again, I just knew it. My impending helplessness made me nauseous.
“They came and took Lila away today.”
“Wait, what?” Tammy, bless her soul, would never admit to favorites or faults, but anyone working in the daycare knew that Lila was special to her. Maybe because she felt like Lila didn’t have good parental figures at home—a nanny always brought her. Maybe because Lila called her ‘Mammy’ instead of ‘Tammy.’ She had a special bond with the three—or was it four?—year old. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. Sofia,” the nanny, “came today—before it was pick-up time—and was all flustered. She said she had to take Lila home immediately.”
“That’s it?”
“I asked what was wrong and if everything was ok but she just kept shaking her head and saying that they had to go.” Tears were falling down her face again. “I asked if she would be back tomorrow and Sofia said she wasn’t sure, but probably not.”
I hugged her close to me as she let out a sob.
“Lila started crying. She hugged me and said that she didn’t want to go. She was crying so hard, Jessa. I’ve never seen her cry like that.” Another sob ripped from her chest and sounded like it took her heart with it.
“Oh, hun.” I blinked so fast one might think I was having a seizure, but I was trying keep my own tears from falling. I’d worked at the day care for a few months while studying; I knew Lila. Shy and quiet. Very caring. I couldn’t even remember if I’d seen her cry about anything, which meant for Tammy to see her in this state… it was no wonder she was devastated.
“Ok, do you think she’s in trouble? Did you try calling the number on file? I mean, I know Sofia always is with her so it’s not like someone she doesn’t know came for her.”
“I tried the number. No answer. So, I-I waited until all the kids were gone and then I called Sofia’s number. I couldn’t really understand but I’m scared to think I heard her mention something about Child Protective Services, but I just can’t be sure.” She broke into sobs again.
“Shh.” I soothed her, rubbing her arm and trying to calm her. “Hey, it’s going to be ok. Lila always seems happy and we’ve never seen any bruises or injuries or anything like that, so I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”
“I just… I wish I knew. She was so upset.”
“I know, Tam. But she’s also a child. She can’t understand what’s going on. Let’s not overthink what is happening. You were upset when you were on the phone. Maybe that’s not what Sofia said. Maybe there was just a death in the family or something that is upsetting, but not having to do with Lila, yeah?”
She sucked in a staccato breath. Silent for a moment as though she hadn’t considered my thought. I was grasping at straws, but it was a distinct possibility.
“That… that could be true, I guess.”
“It could be, hun, so let’s not get so worked up over what might be nothing.” I rubbed along her arm, letting her sit silently for a moment. The way she loved these kids like they were her own was incredible. I was good with kids, but Tam, she gave one-hundred-and-ten percent. Every. Day.
For me, I couldn’t put myself out there like she did because all I saw when I looked at them was the baby that I’d lost. It was stupid, I thought, blinking rapidly, because it had been an it—a ball of cells, nothing more. But it’s always the lost potential that hurts us the most and working there made me wonder about things that I guess I wasn’t ready to wonder about.
I didn’t even realize how it weighed on me until I was asked to interview at the out-patient center before I’d even taken my licensing exam—I couldn’t continue working at the daycare center for much longer, especially after Chance reappeared. My memories had turned me into a punching bag—and I was being hit from all sides.
“I’m sorry,” Tammy mumbled, wiping her face—and her collected mask back into place.
“Don’t worry about it. That’s what friends are for. Seriously, you have a lot going on right now Tam, it’s ok to lean on me… on someone… every once in a while.”
She nodded, but I wasn’t sure that she’d really heard me as she reached for another tissue.
“Sorry,” She let out a sad laugh. “You came in here to tell me something and I totally monopolized the conversation.”
“Stop, Tam. Seriously,” I let a little edge into my voice, “I’m always here for you.” She gave me a grateful smile and stood, walking over to the other side of the room to throw away her tissues and waiting for me to continue. “I actually come bringing good news, I think.”
“Well, that’s good because I’m not sure I can handle any more bad news right now.”
“More?” I frowned.
She shook her head, brushing me off. “So, what is it? Tell me the good news.”
“I’m moving out,” I said as my shoulders slumped with a sigh.
“What?! Where?” Her eyes went wide.
“Ally offered me her house since none of them are living in it at the moment.”
“Oh, Jess. You don’t have to go, really. It’s not a problem at all for you to stay he
re.” Guilt clouded her face and I felt horrible all over again.
“Tam, I love you, but I think Mother Theresa would be a better liar than you.”
“Jessa!”
I shrugged my shoulders and laughed. “It was a joke. Calm down. Anyway, I stopped over at Ally’s after work today because she was cleaning out some more things to take to Emmett’s and she offered me the place.” I squeezed her hand. “I think it will be a good thing. With the job and everything, I could use the space—you know, to make more of a mess—and then this way I won’t feel so stressed about finding a new place.”
“You’re sure you can’t get back into your old apartment?”
“Oh, right. Sorry, forgot to mention that part. Yeah, the mold is so bad that I got an email from my landlord saying that everyone’s leases are going to be terminated because the damage is severe and is going to take too much time to repair.” I groaned and shook my head in disbelief.
She gasped. “Oh my gosh! Are you safe? Should you go see a doctor?”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, mom, but it wasn’t in my apartment. It was on the floor below on the other side of the building, so I’m good, but I guess the whole building needs to be gutted. I’m not really sure. All I know is that I was almost homeless there for a second.”
These things only happened to me.
“You know I would never kick you out.” She sat back on the edge of the bed. “Are you getting your security deposit back?”
“Yeah. Probably not for a week or two though, but I’m ok.”
“When are you moving?”
“I’ll probably take all the stuff I have here over to the house tomorrow and then go back to my apartment at the end of the week to grab what’s left.” Even my voice strained at the prospect of moving again—my least favorite thing.
Thankfully, I’d only moved in a few months ago so I didn’t have too much stuff. Although, you’d be surprised how many candles one can accumulate in so short a period of time.
“Do you need any help tomorrow?”
“I think I’ll be good.” I smiled. “As hard as it might be for you to believe, I don’t actually have a lot of stuff here…” That got a laugh out of her.
The Winter Games Page 84