I flip the television on, scan channels and avoid all things baseball. I can’t do it right now. My phone dings with an email alert. My new therapy schedule and it starts tomorrow at eight am. Making my way to bed I toss and turn. I’m not tired and the urge for a pill is overwhelming. I just need to sleep and be at my best tomorrow.
I reach for the bottle and my phone pings with an incoming text.
Shortstop: Meet your new Princess. Kinsley Shey Douglas. She isn’t ready for pops yet, but she’d love to meet her Unc. Love you.
Attached is a picture of Saylor doing a duck face holding her daughter. My heart melts as I see them and notice Julie’s blond locks in the background.
I eye the bottle and flop down. My skin heats and my stomach cramps. Just half a pill with no alcohol isn’t too much. They wouldn’t have prescribed them if I wasn’t supposed to take them. I get a glass of milk and take half a pill. Sleep still doesn’t claim me but my body stops revolting and I’m able to rest. Calm my mind and body.
Eight in the morning I’m standing in the therapy room at the hospital facing the woman who will whip me back in shape. Melissa, she introduced herself as, explains the goals for each session, the larger picture for each week and what I’m expected to do at home. “Make sure you aren’t overdoing it or it will set you back.”
I nod. “By the book. I swear.”
“You set with your meds? The first couple sessions will be a bear and you’ll be in pain. I don’t want you hurting with no relief or it’ll hinder progress.”
“I’m good.” I swallow. My hands shake thinking of taking one.
We do the exercises and tests. Several make me groan and a few have me gritting my teeth. Sweat is beading on my brow but I push through. I envision pitching in the World Series with Brecklynn in my line of sight cheering for me.
“Great job, Mason. See you Monday.”
“I’ll be here.” I drop off flowers to the maternity ward for Saylor and my feet fight me wanting to go see her. I’ll respect Deacon’s wishes and earn his trust.
I pull into the driveway and Caden comes down the steps. “Where you been?”
“Therapy.”
“Better?” Do I tell him it’s my first visit?
“Too early to say.”
“You good?” His concern is touching yet it pisses me off. He acts like I’m a junkie— but I’m not. I have an injury; a reason to take the pills . . . my therapist advised I take them regularly.
“Fine, Caden.” I start heading to Brecklynn’s.
“Is that wise?”
“Fuck you, man. What do you want from me?” I holler.
“I want you to be okay. I want you to be healthy. I want my friend back, not this shell of a person. Fuck, what’s gonna happen if you can’t play again?” His eyes shut and he curses under his breath.
“I don’t fucking know, Caden. But thanks.” I stomp to their door and open it.
Avery’s sitting in the chair with Brecklynn on the floor in front of her. Her hair is pulled up— exposing her neck my lips want to kiss. Her eyes are bloodshot and as she sees me they fill with tears. “Doll.”
“No. You can’t do this.” She stands and stumbles. Avery leaves and it’s us two— a mere feet separate us but it feels as if you could fit the Grand Canyon in the void.
“Let me explain.” I start.
“I have an explanation. You’re a dick.”
“I can’t argue. Please.” She does a quick intake of air and sits. I step closer to her and she holds her hands in front of her. I halt and sit so I can face her. “I don’t remember.”
“How convenient.” She snarks.
I deserve it. “No, Brecklynn. I don’t remember. The pills, the alcohol . . . hell, I’ve lost the past six days and can’t recall much.”
Her mouth drops and she covers it with her hand. I tell her more. “I’ve been taking pills since the first time I hurt my shoulder. I wasn’t abusing them but I was taking them with alcohol and mixing. Everything was too much and I was numbing myself. The last time . . . the hospital . . . admitting I may lose baseball. It was too much. I don’t remember the club. I don’t remember the girl. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t forget. Are you still taking pills?”
“Up until yesterday I was with alcohol. Now, only as prescribed, I swear.”
“Mason, what happened? Why couldn’t you talk to me? Why wasn’t I important enough to fight for? The last week I was supposed to be learning, exploring, fulfilling a dream— instead I was heartbroken, crying, sick . . . and feeling unworthy.”
“At least you got to go follow your dream. I’ve been home while the team travels and plays. Drinking and popping pills.”
“Alone?” I can’t lie to her. I can’t tell her the truth. “You need to go.” She stands.
“Wait.”
“No. You don’t get to do this. I can’t trust you. My niece was born and I promised her she’d be able to look up to me . . . with you she can’t. I can’t let you drag me down.”
“I love you.”
“Not enough. Not more than your dream. Not more than pills. Not more than destroying me.” She walks from the room and her bedroom door shuts. Avery comes out.
“I’m sorry, Mason.”
“So am I.” I stand and walk home . . . defeated. I tell myself my shoulder hurts so it’s acceptable to take a pill. I tell myself my heart hurts so I take another.
Every time I wake up I tell myself the same things . . . until Monday.
I take a half dose, shower and head to class. I’m able to focus and function doing school and therapy. I finish my catch up work, homework and watch a few game films. I double up on meds and repeat . . . all week. And the next. And the next.
Until half a pill in the mornings isn’t enough. And two pills at night aren’t cutting it.
I refill the prescriptions.
I learn my tolerance.
I survive.
But I don’t thrive.
I don’t live.
Each day I leave the house holding my breath . . . praying I don’t see him. My heart constricts, my stomach rolls . . .
He thinks he’s hiding what he’s doing from his friends . . . but he isn’t. We’re all in his corner, but Emberlee is his biggest champion. She gets mad when Caden suggests confronting him. She is furious with Deacon for banning him from the kids. She and Brody fight because of his reaction to him— stemming from what happened with us.
She blames me for not listening to him. For giving up on him. But what she doesn’t get is . . . he gave up on himself. I can’t make him quit taking pills. I can’t make him care about life. I can’t make him love himself.
Avery’s torn. She wants to help him but she doesn’t know how. Nobody does.
The mere positive in this situation is according to Brody he’s showing amazing progress in therapy. He has weeks to go but all things point to a positive outcome.
Julie’s second birthday is today and everyone is drawn taut. Saylor and Deacon are arguing because as much as she understands Deacon’s decision she is afraid of alienating him.
“He has to hit rock bottom.” Deacon argues.
“Fuck off, Deacon. He needs his friends.” Emberlee seethes, with Saylor by her side.
“Can’t we just let him come today? We’re all here. Nothing will happen.” Saylor tries to reason with him.
“He’d die before he hurt our kids, I know this. It isn’t what it’s about. I’m trying to make him see what he will lose if he continues down this path. His fucking life. His entire existence. Not us. Not his family. He’s gonna kill himself.” Deacon is torn. Mason is like his brother. Tough love can suck.
“You’re being dramatic. They’re prescribed, legal pills.” Emberlee argues.
“That he’s abusing, Lee Lee. He’s driving after taking narcotics. He’s going to class. To therapy. And when that’s done he goes back to his fucking hidey hole with his little, round companions.” Caden jumps to defend Deacon.
<
br /> “If it weren’t for your wife and daughter I wouldn’t be here.” Emberlee turns. “And you. Have you talked to him? Asked if he needs help?” Her words cut me and they’re meant to.
“Embe . . .” Brody warns.
“No.” I whisper. I can’t. She can hate me. She can disagree with me. I can’t do that. He says he doesn’t remember but from my vantage point it seemed calculated that night. Maybe it was the pills. Maybe it was his fear.
Bottom line . . . it was me who witnessed it. It was me who watched someone I love, someone I trusted throw it in my face in the worst possible way. He hasn’t tried to talk to me since the morning after I returned.
“Nice, Breck. That’s love.” Her sarcasm is apparent and she leaves the room.
“You okay?” Brody asks me.
“Don’t take sides, Brody. Don’t. It’ll destroy y’all. There isn’t a right or a wrong here. Feelings aren’t rational. There isn’t rhyme or reason for it and you can’t fault her for hers just as she shouldn’t fault me for mine.”
“I know. I can’t help but be pissed at him and feel sorry for him. I want to wring his neck for the pain he put you through and what he’s doing to all of us . . . but I try and put myself in his position. Baseball to many is a ball and bat. To him it was oxygen and heart. I think Mason put his focus in baseball so much he didn’t have time to learn anything else. Without baseball there is no color in his life. No reason to be better.”
“I wanted to be that reason.” I whisper.
“I think you may have been. But he has neither now.”
“You can’t say that. I can’t give up who I am . . . sacrifice what I’m trying to be for him. What then? He’s able to play and he leaves me when he gets into the big leagues? Or he can’t play and I fight his addiction for him because he doesn’t want to? Because he’d rather be numb.”
“I don’t know the answer, Breck. If I did I would’ve fixed it a long time ago. I’m gonna have to ask Coach to step in or we’re gonna have to tell his parents.”
The knock at the door stops our conversation. Deacon opens it and I can hear his voice.
The strain.
The hurt.
The indecision.
“You can’t be here, Mason.”
“It’s Julie’s birthday.”
“UNCA.” Julie shouts.
“Go.” Deacon spits. “Julie, Uncle Mason is sick. You don’t want the cooties. He can come see you when he’s better.”
“Deacon,” Mason’s voice cracks. I grab my brother so I don’t drop to the ground.
“Mama, no cwy.” I look to see Saylor holding Julie with tears streaming down her face staring at her husband’s back. Emberlee grabs Darby and darts out the back door and I shove Brody to go after her. Deacon slams the door and holds his wife. His shoulder shaking and his daughter patting his back. Caden and Avery come to my side and support my weight, all dealing with the crushing blow of seeing their friend turned away . . . we all heard it. We all witnessed raw pain in its purest form.
Is this what it will take?
Can he survive something else being taken?
He didn’t have a choice with the game . . . but the choice for his life is his.
I don’t know if his mind is too hazy to make it.
Standing here, staring at my best friend’s house, hearing his daughter cry for me, knowing all my friends and the girl I love is on the other side . . . then having the door shut in my face.
Fucking sobering.
The pain I’m feeling is nothing compared to the pain I’m inflicting.
“Mason!” Emberlee comes from the side of the house.
“Hey. Get back in there.” I force a smile. I need to show her I’m okay.
“Not without you.” Her tears are the straw that breaks my proverbial back. I fall to the stoop and sob. I don’t remember the last time I cried. A stray tear here and there . . . but a cleansing of my soul, I can’t remember.
“Mace,” she holds me and cries. “They’re assholes.”
“Not all of us.” Brody is standing to the side and I should prepare myself for his fist . . . but I don’t. Because I deserve it.
“Don’t be mad at them,” I’m sniffling like a toddler. “What do I do?” I look to Brody. “I broke her trust. Your trust. All their trust. I can’t do this.”
“You’re ready.” Brody states.
“Ready for what?”
“Help. This is rock bottom. Now . . . we fix it. All of us.”
“How?”
“You admit it. You get help.” He whistles and dogs start barking in the neighborhood. The door opens and Deacon and Caden appear. “This is it, guys. He needs help. We’re gonna give it to him.”
Caden steps to me and pulls me up. “Damn it, Mace. You fucking scared me.”
“I’m still scared.”
“Don’t be. You have us.” Deacon claps my back.
“All of us.” Saylor shoves her way through with Julie by her side and Kinsley in her arms. “This little girl needs to meet you and this one,” she jerks to Julie, “is missing you.”
“My unca. Mine.” She holds her arms up and I lift her to me. Her chubby arms wrap my neck and I hold her tight. “Miss.”
“I did, Princess. So damn much.”
“Damn.”
“Yes, Julie. So damn much,” Saylor agrees. I look at her and she winks.
“What now?” Avery is wary. She rushes to my arms sharing the space with Julie.
“Mine, an Ave.” Julie chastises her.
“Can we share today?” Avery asks her.
“Jus minute.” I laugh at her territorial behavior— she comes by it naturally.
“I need to talk to my parents.” I decree. I’m scared of disappointing them but I need them.
“Want me to drive you?” Caden asks.
“I’m clean today but yeah if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll drive him,” Brecklynn steps through the crew. My eyes drink her in. I didn’t think she could be more beautiful but she is. I want to take her in my arms. I wish I could make the last six weeks disappear. I hope she’ll forgive me . . . one day.
“Are you sure?” Brody is by her side.
“Positive.” Her eyes don’t leave mine and despite what I’ve done . . . who’ve I allowed myself to be, I still see love there.
I hug my friends and thank them. I follow her to the car and as she starts it she turns the radio off. “Your parents are on the same street as Emberlee’s?”
“Yes. Thank you for doing this.” I itch to tangle my fingers in her hair. Hold her. Kiss her. Worship her.
“No problem.” She doesn’t say anything else as she maneuvers her car in the right direction.
“Why?” I utter . . . afraid of her answer.
“I needed some time with you. I don’t know the exact answer of why . . . but a sense of closure for me. I’m proud of you for doing this.”
“There’s nothing to be proud of. I’ve screwed up so many ways . . . it’s time.”
“Are you doing this for you? Because you know there’s a problem?”
“Yes. And no. I have to do something. This isn’t living. This isn’t representative of who I am. But also my friends. They know me . . . they know this isn’t me. But those little girls— they don’t understand. From the time Julie was born, all I wanted was to be her hero. And damn it, I am. I don’t want to fuck that up or lose the opportunity with Darby and Kinsley.”
I watch her swallow. “And baseball?”
“Fuck, Doll.” It’s a slip of the tongue. “I don’t know. I keep telling myself I’ve resigned myself to accepting I’ll never play again but I felt like I lost everything else that mattered, I didn’t want God to take that, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I understand it was my doing; but I lost you. I felt my friends turn their backs. I didn’t have anything in my mind. I know it wasn’t the truth and honestly . . . I don’t feel like I’m addicted to pills but I use t
hem as a coping mechanism.”
“It’s the same thing, Mason. You need a different coping mechanism.”
“It should’ve been you.” I blurt.
“I wanted to be more. I wanted to be the priority — not the replacement.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know how to explain it. I guess I felt like if you lost me that would be the worst thing— not baseball. Instead I feel you sacrificed me for your true dream.”
“I wish I could make you believe that isn’t true.”
“I wish you could, too, because this feeling sucks. Questioning if I was supportive enough. If I loved you the way you needed. If I caused you to use when I went to Saipan . . . or if you were just using it as an excuse to brush me off and pick up your past life.”
Knife. In. Heart. “Breck . . . never. None of those things. I’m the one who failed you. I’m the one who did it all.”
“Maybe.” She lets her tears fall, which prompts mine.
“No maybe, baby.” I inhale. “I want you to know when I have my shit together I’m coming for you.”
“I won’t be here, Mason. There isn’t a part of me that’s available.”
“Your heart is mine like mine is yours. A mistake can’t change that. A pill can’t sever that. A break can’t undo all we were.”
“Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Be happy. If it’s baseball . . . don’t be afraid and don’t hold back. If it’s another girl . . . give her everything. Accept what you can’t change and in this chaotic, messy world . . . be you. Blaze a path that will make those little girls happy and proud. Create a new beginning for them . . . but most important for you. In life it’s messy but accept it and move forward. Don’t place pressure upon yourself to meet goals you set years ago . . . make new ones. If one door closes, open another. If one dream ends, close your eyes and find a new one. You’re Mason-fucking-Adler . . . you got this.” Her voice is shaky as she pulls into my parent’s driveway and I don’t leave the intimacy her car has given us.
“I promise. I swear to all of it, but most important— I vow to make you trust me. Love me. I will get you back Brecklynn Rose Collier.”
Karma (Endgame Series Book 3) Page 18