“Mason— you didn’t lose me. You lost yourself and in order to find you . . . you had to discard me. I understand. I’m okay with it as long as you’ll be okay in the end.”
“I’ll never be okay without you.” I lean over the console and take her face in my hands. Staring in her eyes I tell her. “I love you. I will beat this. I may not pick a ball up again but if I have you I have my endgame. Your love is like winning the World Series and I want you to know, when you’re ready I’ll come for you. I’ll play the best game of my life because you are for keeps.” Kissing her lips softly I taste the salt from her tears and wish my knees bent the opposite way so I’d kick my own ass. I release her mouth and open the car door.
“Bye, Mason.” She calls.
“See you, Doll.” Walking the steps to tell my parents what I’ve done is excruciating but it doesn’t hurt as much as hearing her car drive down my street. My parents have tried to help me through this, offering to fly me to different orthopedics, hire specialized coaches . . . but I pissed it away.
I open the door and my mom comes around the corner in her apron and gasps.
“Mason, honey what’s wrong?” I look at her and see myself in her eyes. Disheveled. Unshaven. No light shining in me.
“Is Dad here?”
“Yes. He’s out back. What’s happened?”
“A lot. I need to talk to both of you. I need help.” I walk to the patio with her by my side.
My stomach protests— from the disappointment I’m going to heap on them or lack of narcotics I’m not sure which. My mouth is dry and I feel like my chest is caving in. “Dad.” He sits up in his chair and puts the papers he was reading down.
“Son. What brings you by?” His brows draw tight as he studies my demeanor.
I sit across from him and point to the chair next to him for my mom. “I have something to tell you. I messed up.”
“Who’s pregnant?” My dad questions. I understand why it would be his first question in this group. And with my past history.
“Nobody. Although that would be better than what I have to tell you.” I steel myself to deal this blow to them. “Remember when we first thought I’d pulled a muscle?” They both nod. “The team doctor gave me some medicine. I took one and it knocked me out for hours. It numbed me from thinking. The questions regarding my future. My head was quiet and I had a moment of peace.” I reach for the pitcher of water and my hands are shaking. My mom takes over and hands me the glass, which I finish in one long swallow. “I cut the dose in half after the first time but continued talking them. The night I got hurt, the doctor at the hospital gave me different medicine. I was lost.” I stop because I hate making excuses. “I’m not saying what I did was right, I’m trying to tell you in my head why I did what I did. I mixed pills with alcohol. I mixed pills with other pills. I was chasing something but I couldn’t find it so I kept going. I hurt everyone I love. I ruined Brecklynn. I lost a week of time and don’t remember some hours leading up to it. I took my last pill at two this morning and I don’t know what to do.”
My mom is crying. My dad is staring at me. Neither shows hate. Nor disappointment. Concern is evident. “Are you addicted?” My dad asks.
“I don’t know. I want to say I’m not but I think I might have an issue.”
“Are you in pain?”
“Not at the moment. Sometimes after therapy but nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’ll be back.” My dad rises and leaves the patio.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“No, Mason. We’re gonna help you, but don’t be sorry. I’m glad you came to us.” She moves to the chair next to me and takes my hands. “We all get a little lost. We all make mistakes but the biggest victory is asking for help.” She rubs her hand down my face. “We’ll get through this.”
We sit in silence waiting for my dad to return. He joins us as he hangs up the phone. “Write down the medications.” He pushes a pen and paper to me. “I talked to Josh and he needs a list of meds to see what we need to do.” Deacon’s dad is an anesthesiologist and my dad’s best friend. I write down all the pill names . . . all five of them . . . and pass it back. He takes a picture and sends it over.
“Dad.” I begin.
“We’ll get through this, Mason. I swear it.” His phone rings and he grabs it. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll get it. Thanks.”
“Does he think I’m a loser?” I question.
“Never. He’s coming by after Julie’s party. He said to tell you he’s proud of you for asking for help.” He turns to my mom. “We need Tylenol, Imodium, bath stuff for achy muscles, and broth.” Turning his attention to me. “Josh said you may have slight withdrawal symptoms but they shouldn’t be terrible. We’re gonna keep you here until you’re through it then we’ll see what we need to do.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us son. This is what we do. We’re your parents. I’m not happy you didn’t come to us sooner and that you tried to handle it all by yourself but I’m glad you trusted us in the end.” My dad stands and pulls me up to a bear hug. “Go take a shower and get in bed. Rest will heal your body faster.”
“Actually . . . it sounds good. I’m exhausted.” I feel like I’ve been in a marathon today and I’m drained. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically.
The next days aren’t hell but they aren’t sunshine and roses. My stomach recoils at food. My body aches, sweats, and chills . . . every muscle I’ve spent years honing is revolting. Day three after another bath I feel better.
Toast stays down. My legs don’t shake while supporting my weight. I’m brighter. Clearer. “Feeling better?” My dad hasn’t left the house since I showed up.
“Much.” I smile.
“There he is.” My mom brings me a bottle of Gatorade. “I love that smile.”
“Emberlee came by while you were sleeping. Darby is gorgeous.” My dad chuckles.
“And gonna be a hell raiser.” I add.
“So Josh wants to talk to you . . . see where you stand. If we need to think about rehab or if it was a fluke.” I nod. I understand what I was doing and that shit is weaned from my system . . . I think I’ll be okay. I’ll take a professional opinion though.
“I need to talk to my therapist and coach.” No more hiding this. “Being off meds and missing a few sessions may set me back and I need to accept that and let coach know the reason.”
“I’ll be with you every step.” My dad acknowledges.
“Me, too.” My mom pipes in.
“One day, I hope I’m half the parents you guys are.”
“Not anytime soon.” And “I want to meet Brecklynn” are spoken simultaneously and I chuckle.
Josh meets with us and he agrees with me. I’ve been able to be clear headed and talk about what I did, he doesn’t think it’s an addiction issue as much as I was using it as a crutch. He said subconsciously I may have been trying to create a viable reason for not playing instead of blaming my body for betraying me — in my eyes.
“Do you care if I invite the guys over?” I ask my parents.
“That’s fine. I wanted to talk to you.” My dad grabs a beer. “Does this bother you?”
“No, Dad. Whatcha’ need?”
“Would you be willing to stay here until end of semester? It’s a few weeks.”
“I’d love it.” I miss my friends but I think this is best for me. I need to get stronger and I’ll need their support if things turn for the worse with my shoulder. Four of my support group are new parents . . . they need to focus their attention on their families.
“You can quit avoiding the yard and come sit outside with me.” Avery bounded in my room. “He’s staying at his parents until end of semester and the guys just went to visit him.”
“Brody, too?”
“Um hmm.” She smiles. “Saylor and Emberlee are coming over with the kids. We need some sunlight.” She grabs my hands and pulls me to the front yard. I feel a twinge of guilt for being upset my brother went to see him. I know
he needs support but he’s my brother . . . and why does everyone discount my broken heart? It’s selfish to dwell on that with all he’s going through but I have a right to my feelings.
“Hey.” Saylor and Emberlee emerge from the house next door. It’s sweet to see them juggling babies with Julie running in front of them.
“You see my Unca Mace?” Julie plops herself in my lap.
“No, baby. Not today.” She still seeks me when she’s looking for Mason. I thought kids were resilient . . . she seems to take his absence worse than me.
“I wanna pop.” Her lips jut and her little arms cross. She emulates her mom with that pose.
“I bet we can find one inside.” I know Mason stocked the houses with them so they were always handy . . . lollipops don’t expire.
She follows me in the house and I find one in the kitchen drawer . . . blue, her favorite. “Sank you.” She beams at me and I understand his weakness to her. I’d do anything for that smile. To bottle the feeling it gives you to light up her world . . . with a simple piece of candy. I long for those days. The innocence. The jubilance a simple gesture can bring. I wish the world could go back and remember it isn’t the grand gesture that means the most . . . it’s the little things. Kindness. Happiness. Forgiveness. I don’t want her to grow up; I don’t want real life problems jading her, changing her outlook on life.
As I take my chair, Lee Lee plops Darby in my arms and Saylor hands Kinsley to Avery. “Keep an eye on Julie, we have to go get their stuff.” Saylor and Emberlee rush across the yard and return with a small store.
“Uh, guys we’re next door. I don’t think you needed to carry it all here.” I think I’m smart stating the obvious.
“You’re funny.” Lee Lee rolls her eyes. “They blow out their diaper — you carrying a shit covered body across two yards and after changing them you have to change yourself. They get hungry . . . they’re loud. Fussy — toys at our fingertips. And if you want to hold them the entire time go for it, otherwise,” she puts together some contraption that looks like you need a degree for it, “I’ll put her in this.” That’s a lot of work.
“I bow to you. Keeping tiny humans alive is no joke.” We share a laugh and settle the babies in their sleeping gadget and Julie with bubbles and toys— we sit back and sigh.
“What’s everyone doing for summer?” Saylor asks.
“It’s so weird. We used to plan our summer trip after Christmas break but college seems to have us going different directions. I think the phrase ‘best time of your lives’ is code for ‘changes are upon us.’” Avery mentions.
“I’m working. Full time this summer. I decided to beg off summer session.” I tell them.
“I’m taking art classes at the community center.” Avery beams.
“I’m raising tiny humans and taking advantage of grandparents.” Saylor admits with no shame.
“I’m enjoying my last summer before I’m a member of the working class.” Lee Lee beams.
I turn to her, giddy. “You did it?”
“Yes.” She fist bumps the air. “I’ll graduate in May and my mom hooked me up with some event planning. I’ll do freelance until we see how it works with Darby.”
“I’m so proud of you!” Avery claps her hands.
“Oh, God. I’m jealous. I have two years and have to figure which summer I can catch up.” Saylor wasn’t as lucky. Deacon’s baseball, her schedule, Julie, and pregnancy took its toll and she cut down to part time this semester.
“You’re the most determined girl I know. It’ll happen.” Emberlee encourages her. “But I know, next week after graduation I’ll be begging my mom to keep this one overnight and,” she turns to me, “you might want to cover your ears. I’m checking into a hotel room and celebrating my six-week hiatus. I’m getting laid, ladies.”
I choke on my vomit. “You don’t have to check into a hotel, dipshit. I’m her aunt. I’ll keep her.” I turn to Saylor. “Same offer when you’re cleared to knock boots.”
“I have three weeks.” She glowers at Emberlee. “You’re braggadocios.” We all crack up and take in all we have to accomplish in life topped with all we’ve done.
“I talked to Mace.” Saylor announces. “He’s doing good. Happy.” It’s what I wanted but hearing it saddens me. I miss him. “His parents found a specialized pitching camp for him in Texas and after that he’s going to a training camp in Florida.”
Texas has a great boot camp for pitchers. It’s known throughout the country. I know he’ll be in good hands but I’m scared for him. “Will he be ready?”
“Coach and therapists think so. His parents arranged for a therapist to travel with him to gauge his progress and help if he gets in a bind.” I nod at her assessment.
“They asked Brody.” Lee Lee shares. “He’s waiting to talk to you.” Her eyes find me. “And he won’t commit to the whole summer because of Darby, but the money is good.” I swallow trying to formulate my answer. “And he’s changed his major. He wants to be an athletic trainer.”
If I pitch a fit and my brother doesn’t go it hinders his goals. If I swallow my pride and wish him well I have this hole inside me. It’s taunting me. Everyone else can move forward— why can’t you? Maybe because these people didn’t love him the same way I did. Or I do. “He doesn’t need to talk to me. He’s a grown ass man.” It portrays a bit harsher than I mean.
“Please,” eye roll. “He doesn’t want to upset you.” She seems irritated.
“And that bothers you?” I stand, my voice raising.
“A bit. I get he hurt you. I get he fucked up.” Saylor interrupts her.
“Language. Julie, come inside and I’ll put a movie in for you and get you a snack.” She disappears inside with Julie and returns a few minutes later with Emberlee and I still in a stand-off.
“Oh, do tell. You realize you froze Brody from your life for something far less? You had him like a trained dog jumping through hoops because he put you first. Mason kisses a fucking whore in front of me, pops pills to avoid discussing his problems with me . . . and I’m supposed to snap my fingers and get over it?”
“Yes. Exactly. Brody’s was a choice and it isn’t your business because we worked things out, obviously.” I’m gonna slap the attitude outta her. “Imagine how he felt. He’s been on that field since he was four years old. He postponed majors for his friend and education. It was ripped from him and you go gallivanting around an island. Think about that. If you couldn’t take pictures anymore how would you feel?”
She crossed a fucking line. “Fuck you, Emberlee.” I storm to my car and grab my bag. “I didn’t go gallivanting around an island. I went to work. A job that was planned for months.” I pull my camera, flashes, and attachments from their prospective spots. “You’re right about something. It would break my heart if I couldn’t take pictures. But you don’t seem to understand . . . this,” I hold up my camera, “is as important to me as the glove is to your precious Mason. But the difference is I don’t value it above those I love.” For emphasis I throw it to the sidewalk. “I wouldn’t hurt those I love because I couldn’t capture the images that bring me peace.” A flash careens to the asphalt. “I wouldn’t fucking kiss another guy because I was so lost!”
Another flash.
A miniature tripod.
Some other piece of equipment I grab.
Another flash.
It all shatters to the ground. Like my heart did that night. Like it keeps doing every time someone faults me. Or questions me. I didn’t turn to pills but that doesn’t mean I’m not going through just as much as he . . . maybe more because they’re all so fucking quick to jump to his defense.
“So if my picture taking offends you so much you can fuck right off.” I scrub my face with my hands and storm into the house to my bedroom. I shut the door and lock it before I collapse on my bed allowing my pillow to muffle my screams.
The Girl’s
“This is why we can’t have nice things.” Avery stares at the shard
s spread across the driveway.
We shouldn’t laugh . . . but we do.
“You were outta line, Lee Lee.” Saylor defends Brecklynn.
“How? I told the truth.”
“No you didn’t. You told your truth. What you’ve chosen to believe.”
“Come on, Avery. It’s Mason.” Lee Lee is blind when it comes to him. We all are.
“You’re right. It’s Mason and I think that’s what makes it so hard. Reliable. Clown. Fun loving. Savior. He’s all those things . . . but he’s human.” Avery pins her glare to her best friend. “I’m mad at him. I’m mad at myself. Mason is our go to guy. The fixer. So he needs help and we can’t save him . . . because he doesn’t want to be saved. Imagine if that was Brody.” She turns to Saylor. “Or Deacon.” She shakes her head. “We love him but they were in love. There’s a difference and imagine you weren’t able to pull the one you love through something like this. He turned his back and chose pills over her. That’s a hard pill to swallow. So as much as I forgive him, I understand her.”
“Pretty insightful.” Emberlee won’t let her protectiveness go to see the truth.
“Lee Lee,” Saylor’s tone warns. “Stop. I feel like you. I berated Deacon. I fought with him days after we had our first child but we’ve been blinded by our feelings and what Mason is going through, that none of us have stopped and thought how Brecklynn is doing. Remember when you thought Brody discounted your feelings . . . knowingly or not— Mason did more that.”
“So one mistake and she’s allowed to turn her back? That isn’t what we do.” She’s still fighting for him.
“She didn’t turn her back. She listened to his explanation but that’s all they were. Excuses. She took him to his parents — do you know what that did to her? She couldn’t breathe when she got home. The night she witnessed him with that baseball bitch . . . my fucking heart broke for her. Her pain was contagious and I ached as I held her tight, stopping her from splintering in pieces. She didn’t discard him but she has to protect herself. I think we’re all guilty of that.” Avery raises her eyebrows at Lee Lee. It wasn’t so long ago Emberlee was content to destroy others for her well-being.
Karma (Endgame Series Book 3) Page 19