by Malone, Nana
“Sounds like a winner.”
“I finally got fed up, flipped him off, and screamed at him to fuck off.” Izzy wiped a hand down her face, trying to erase the memory. “I walked off the court to get my gear. When I looked up at him, people crowded around his slumped form.”
“What happened to him?”
Izzy leveled her gaze and Jessica. “He had a heart attack. By the time I made it up there, someone was doing CPR, but he didn’t regain consciousness. When I realized what had happened, I lost it.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t remember much about that time, but I’ll always have the news clips to remind me. Apparently, I threw myself on him screaming about how it was all my fault and I couldn’t believe I’d done this to him. Mom says I didn’t eat or sleep for a week. I totally lost it. There was a lot of press at the tournament. Must have been a slow news week, because every night in the sports section, they’d cover my breakdown in the news. People speculated on my mental state.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. I haven’t played since, and I hate press. When I hired Simon, he suggested the name change to protect my anonymity. Though, every now and again, during the Tennis NCAAs, someone busts out some of that archive footage.”
“Shit. I don’t know what to say.”
Izzy shook her head. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about it.” To solidify the change in subject, she scanned the piles of laundry, adding, “Have you seen my dark jeans anywhere? The ones I wanted to wear on my non-date?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t call it a non-date. He wanted to show up.” Jessica hung herself over the edge of the bed to search for the jeans. Unable to find them she shrugged. “Maybe the gnomes took them.”
“By gnomes, you mean Sabrina, who’s made herself at home by borrowing my clothes?”
Jessica nodded. “The very ones. Look at the bright side though.” She indicated Izzy’s tank top emblazoned with the text I’m a MILF. “At least your missing clothing has forced you to wear my present. It suits you.” She cackled.
Izzy gave her a wry smile as she thought of Sabrina. Unclenching her jaw, she reminded herself to take Bryce’s advice—be patient. Wait her out. Not easy, in theory or in practice.
Izzy peeked out the window, listening to Nick jabbering into his cell. “When you were a kid, were you on the phone half as much as Nick is?”
Jessica’s green-tipped, blue head bobbed up and down. “Oh, hell, yes. Girls are worse. Be glad they’re not on their way to Vegas for a drunken wedding.”
Izzy dropped the t-shirt she held and whirled to face Jessica. “Don’t play with me. I still haven’t had a chance to suss out the new girlfriend over dinner.”
Jessica shook her head in awe. “Yep, I can feel the awkwardness now. You, her, and a whole interrogation scenario. Nothing says nice to meet you like a serious mom grilling.” Her smile softened. “I think you’re a great mom for going into interrogation mode. A ton of parents don’t even bother these days. They don’t want to be too intrusive.”
“Did your parents do that?”
Jessica grinned. “Nope. Too intrusive. Besides, my friends would have scared the shit out of my mother.”
Izzy wasn’t sure if she should be grateful Nick didn’t stage a mutiny. Maybe her traditional values made her overprotective. Izzy wished she could hold onto Nick’s youth for a little while longer. “I don’t doubt it.” She couldn’t resist another glance at her son, the gangly boy-man.
Her line of vision didn’t escape Jessica’s keen gaze. “Relax. You were in love once.”
Izzy had some vague memories of being a teenager and in love.
With Jason.
Shoving the thought back under the bed, she tried not to think about Jason and Sabrina in living color on the TMZ.
She shook her head to clear the imagery. “Yeah, well, we didn’t have all the methods of communication then. I mean for heaven’s sake, AOL had rudimentary chat. Now, Nick’s got a cell phone, email, IM, text messaging, a Facebook account and a webcam I cringe to think about what he does with when I’m not home.”
Jessica perked up at the mention of text messages. “Speaking of text messaging, any more texts from the delicious Mr. Cartwright?”
“No. Not from him. A whole bunch from Simon, though. I think it’s time to have a come to Jesus with him. It just won’t work.” As she uttered the phrase out loud for the first time, she watched her friend’s face with anticipation.
Jessica sprang up and upended a pile of clothes. “Woohoo! Now we can get your groove back, girl.” She twirled in excited glee. “No more pompous jackass thinking he owns the joint. Bust out the single lady anthems.”
Tentative, Izzy sat down on the bed. “So, you’re happy about this?”
“Are you kidding? Nick and I have waited for this moment for months. I can’t believe you’ll finally yank the shit out of that trigger.”
“Well, given the other night, it’s pretty obvious he’s not the one I want.”
Jessica put her hands on her hips. “What other night? I sense withholding.”
“The night of the last shoot, my car died at Jason’s place. He brought me home and stayed for dinner. I showed him some early proofs, then one thing led to hot make out session.”
“What? Isabella Connors, you dirty slut. I love it. Tell me everything. Are those lips as soft as they look? His hands as big as they seem?” Her eyes widened in gleeful excitement. “Did you get to sample the goods?”
Izzy couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, lips, very soft, but knowledgeable. Yes, on the big hands, the better to cup my sizable ass with. As to any sampled goods, no.” Not for lack of want.
Jessica collapsed back on the bed, a dreamy expression on her face. “You lucky bitch. Please, please, please tell me you had on cute undies. A nice lacy pair or something?”
“Sorry to disappoint. Basic Victoria’s Secret sateen.” At Jessica’s incredulous expression, she added, “Well I didn’t get dressed in the morning thinking, ‘Today Jason Cartwright will see my undies.’ Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t seen the goods anyway.”
“Oh yes, the sexting incident.”
Izzy cringed with the embarrassment and guilt. “Never again.”
Jessica wiped away streaks of tears as she howled with laughter. “Dude, that shit would happen to you.”
Izzy picked up the hamper and made her way down the hall to the laundry room when the doorbell rang. “Nick, can you get the door?”
Nick didn’t respond, and the bell rang with a persistent chimes. She dropped the basket and trotted to the door. For several moments she stood staring at Jason as if she’d never seen him before. They had one more photo shoot, but she’d planned to be emotionally ready to deal with him. Surprise visits were unfair.
Because he didn’t say anything and stared at her, grinning like an idiot, she spoke first. “What are you doing here?”
Hands raised in a peaceful gesture, he said, “I’m here for Nick. He asked me to come around and go through some match film with him.”
Perfect. Even her own son conspired to torture her. “He’s in the back. You can go through to the kitchen.”
When he didn’t budge, she glared at him. “What?”
He shook his head and stepped into the foyer. “Nothing. I’ll head back.”
As he sauntered to the back yard, Izzy caught herself taking in the view. She knew staring at his ass constituted a desperate and depraved act, but she couldn’t help herself. “God I’ve got to get out more,” she muttered under her breath.
Before he disappeared around the corner to the kitchen, he leaned back and said, “I’ve got to say, I’d agree.”
Not until later, as she loaded the washer, did she realize she still wore her MILF top.
****
Jason let himself into the backyard still grinning about Izzy’s tank-top. Wearing short shorts with her hair in
a ponytail, looking barely legal, she didn’t seem like any MILF he’d ever seen.
He couldn’t help thinking about the way the tank had showed off an expanse of belly. The Izzy he knew had always been conservative in her dress. Maybe she’d changed.
Nick cut his conversation off. From his tone, Jason made the assumption he’d been talking to a girl. “You ready to check out some footage?”
Nick ambled over and gave him a now-typical, one-armed, man-hug. Jason knew the familiarity of the one-armed man-hug, but the foray into the world of “down” handshakes following the hug baffled him.
“Yeah. Thanks for coming by. Mom let you in?”
Pretty sure Nick meant Izzy, Jason nodded. “Yeah, she did. She seemed pretty surprised to see me though.”
Nick cringed. “Sorry. I mentioned I wanted to review some tapes with a friend. I think she assumed I meant someone from the team.” He shrugged. “Since you’re not her favorite person right now, I figured I’d let her think what she wanted.”
Jason tried to stop the quirking up of his lips. “Okay, but next time, check with her. I don’t want her to come down hard on you.”
Nick nodded in agreement. “Okay, can do. Though, Mom’s never come down hard on me, unless I screw up pretty bad.”
Jason followed as Nick led him into the house. “That’s good. I doubt you’d ever screw up that bad. My mother loved to get on my case.”
“You were a screw up?”
Jason thought back to his childhood and grinned. Then, remembering his teenaged audience, he curbed the grin. “I got into a little trouble.”
When they settled in the family room, Jason was surprised at how comfortable he felt with Nick.
Jason paused one of the tapes to point out Nick’s opponent. “You see what happened right here? He’s getting ready to come into the net.”
Nick leaned in. “Yeah, it’s where he always gets me. I always misjudge and end up putting a ball into his racket I can’t chase down.”
Jason nodded. “Yeah. You want to be careful. Lucky for you he has a tell.” Jason went to the screen to identify the opponent’s footwork. “Notice the weight change?” Waiting for Nick to nod, he went on. “He does it every time he comes into the net. Like a bad habit.”
Comprehension lit Nick’s features. “No shit. Oh yeah.” Then looking at Jason he grimaced. “Sorry.”
Jason almost laughed out loud. Figuring humor wouldn’t go over well, he said, “You should hear my language on the practice court.”
At Nick’s smile, Jason went on. “I suggest, against this guy, to go in with that strong forehand of yours. When he comes in, put the ball in the corner. He won’t catch on.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “I’ll be able to get him every time. Beating him has been real hard before. Now I have a chance.”
Jason smiled. Pride welling in his heart. “You always had a chance. You didn’t understand till now.” He shrugged and added, “Might only work for a little while though. His coach will coach him out of the habit eventually. For now, it’ll take care of your problem of giving up those crucial first games to him.”
Nick nodded. “I can do that. The coach for Emmetsville doesn’t seem to care about anything as long as they win. He’s tough to beat.”
“I’m sure you can. You’ll need to stay focused.”
Nick popped in another tape and brought sodas for the both of them. When he settled back down, he pierced Jason with a worried stare. “Can I ask you something?”
Jason’s nerves skipped and jumped to life. He didn’t like the seriousness in Nick’s voice. “Sure.” His mind raced for a kid appropriate answer to a slew of possible questions.
“You used to date my mother.”
It was a statement, and not a question, so Jason waited for the rest.
“Was she always like this?”
Jason let out a breath. Again, he couldn’t decipher if Nick meant Izzy, or Sabrina. “Was she always like what?”
Nick shrugged. “All about herself, I guess.” Shrugging again, he shook his head. “I dunno. Not interested in anyone else.”
Sabrina. Jason breathed a sigh of relief, but he struggled with what to say. He opened his mouth, but Nick interrupted.
“You don’t have to be super nice about her like Mom is. I know she tries for my sake.” He quirked his head in a nonchalant teenager’s way. “She doesn’t want to ever say anything bad about her, ‘cause she wants me to have a relationship with her, or something.”
Jason wondered if Nick was really thirteen. He already possessed more wisdom than he should at his age. “Izzy’s number one concern is you. She wants you to be happy.”
“Yeah I know.”
Understanding he should address the question about Sabrina, Jason took a deep breath. “Your mother—” Changing his mind, he started again. “Sabrina is lost. Always has been. She’s always been searching for love and acceptance in all the wrong places.”
Nick didn’t face Jason but gave Jason a sidelong glance as he swiped his hair out of his face.
Jason continued, “Because she’s always been hurting inside, she can’t relate and identify well.”
Jason frowned. How could he dissect someone he hadn’t seen in years? “She wants someone to love her in the exact way she needs, and when things don’t happen how she wants, she searches for love somewhere else. When she does find love, she doesn’t know what to do, so she runs.”
Nick pondered for a minute. “Why does she treat my mom the way she does?”
A prickle of sweat rolled down Jason’s back. He hadn’t realized reviewing some tapes would turn into an inquisition. “Uh, well—”
Nick gave him a look that said he knew Jason was trying to find a graceful lie. “You don’t have to make up an answer.”
Damn. He didn’t want to lie to the kid. “Because your mom lets her.” Truth was the truth. Izzy had always let Sabrina steamroll her.
“Oh. Okay. Do you have a thing with my mom?”
Jason choked on his coke, the sweet liquid running down his chin. He swiped at it and laughed. “God, you’re gonna make a great lawyer one day. What’s with the twenty questions?”
Nick smiled. “It’d be okay.” He indicated his head in the direction of the bedrooms. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to take her out or something.”
Wow. Jason hadn’t been so nervous since asking out Mary Lou Sims in the sixth grade. A small part of him was touched at the gesture of Nick’s blessing, but he didn’t want the kid’s hopes up. “Your mom is great, but it’s, uhm…”
“Complicated?” Nick offered.
Jason nodded. “Yeah complicated.” Good save.
Nick shook his head. “That’s what adults always say. Then they tell kids to be honest about what we’re feeling and stuff.”
Nothing slipped past this kid.
Jason needed to get back on solid ground, so he changed the subject back to tennis. “What’s your plan? Are you going out on the Juniors round this year?”
The noncommittal teen shrug made another appearance. “I dunno.”
Relishing the idea of not having the spotlight on him, Jason prodded, “What’s not to know?”
“Mom says I don’t have to go if I don’t want to.” He took a deep breath. “Coach seems to think everything’s all final and set. Keeps talking to me as if we’re heading out on the road together.”
Jason nodded encouragement to keep going. “You don’t think you’re ready?”
Nick took a sip of soda. “I guess I’m ready, but I guess I feel like I have to. What would you do?”
He thought about it as he took another sip. “What is it about Juniors you’re not into?”
Nick glanced toward the bedrooms again. “I’m not sure I want to play tennis forever. I think I need to think through some stuff. Get a chance to do the school thing and friends thing.”
He had a point. So many of the kids who went to the Juniors circuit ended up chasing the dream, unsure of what to do when th
ey discovered not everyone could be the next Sampras. “Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”
Nick furrowed his brow. “I also don’t want to end up like Mom.”
Jason stopped mid-sip of his soda, put his drink down, and leaned in further toward Nick. “What do you mean?”
“She used to love the game. She lived for tennis. At least that’s what grandma says. I guess she lost it after her dad died, and she hasn’t played again.” He looked confused. “She’ll hardly pick up a racket to play with me.”
What had happened to her? “Maybe she’s just more focused on other stuff now and has lost the urge to play?”
“I dunno. Sometimes she acts like she wants to, but then she doesn’t.” He shrugged. “Like she’s scared.”
They reviewed another tape before Jason had to leave. He hadn’t enjoyed that kind of companionship in ages. Somehow, he’d found a friend in a thirteen-year-old.
Before he left, he gave Nick some advice. “It’s important you commit yourself to the things you do. It’s even more important you speak up about the things you don’t want to do. Be honest, and let whatever happens happen. At least you’ll be honest with yourself.”
Nick nodded in understanding. “Thanks, Jason.” Then catching himself, he amended. “I mean, Mr. Cartwright.”
“How about you call me Jason when your mom isn’t around.”
Nick nodded and gave him a sheepish smile in return. He lifted his baseball hat to shift hair out of his eyes. The sunlight hit his face, and Jason could see all of Sabrina in the set of his eyes and the outline of his nose. He could also see something else. A faint purplish bruise under one of his eyes. His gaze honed in on it, sharpening.
Nick flushed. “It’s no big deal.”
Cold ice settled in Jason’s stomach, wrapped around the organ and squeezed. He kept his voice even. “What the hell happened?”
Nick squirmed. “Nuthin.”
Jason rocked back on his heels. “Sure doesn’t look like nothing. Someone do that to you?”
Panic flashed in Nick’s eyes. “No.”
“Did some asshole at school do that?” If some idiot hit the kid, he’d make a special trip out there to let them take a crack at someone their own size. Though given Nick’s height, it didn’t seem likely that some teenaged boy would have the stones to step to him. “C’mon, Nick. I could do this all day. You need to tell me.”