Jase

by MariaLisa deMora

  “I want to tell her one thing. I won’t badger her, I promise. Just the one thing to ease her mind, eh?” Her scowl softened, not quite into a smile, but nearly. “Just the one thing.”

  He handed over his phone, stepping back to the car and grabbing his bag out of the backseat as she found DeeDee’s number and dialed it, putting it on speaker. He smiled when she spoke, his heart quickening in his chest; even from thousands of miles away, she had that effect on him. “Hey there, you. Did you make it to your folks’ okay?”

  “Baby, you’re on speaker,” he said, and his mother smiled up at him.

  “Okay,” DeeDee said, confusion evident in her tone, and then she went quiet.

  “DeeDee, this is Jase’s mom, Jacque.” She paused and then frowned when there was no response. “I wanted you to know something. Are you listening?’

  “Yes.” He recognized this as the even tone she used with club members when she was afraid or worried about their response to something. This was her ‘I’m freaking out, but you’ll never know it’ voice.

  “I already love you,” his mom said, warmth and affection apparent in her tone, and a quickly stifled gasp come through the phone. “I already love you, because you’ve made my son happy. I don’t care if you are black, white, polka-dotted, or striped. I don’t care. You matter to Jase, so you matter to my Kenny and me. We already love you, sweetie.”

  Silence hung in the air like a weighted blanket, and then finally, DeeDee said, “You don’t know how much that means to me, Jacque.” She took a deep breath, audible over the phone. “Thank you.”

  Jase took the phone from his mother’s hand and smiled at her, mouthing the words ‘Thank you’. He shifted the call off speaker and put the phone to his ear, walking away from his mother. “Baby,” he said softly, hearing her unsteady breathing. “Talk to me, eh?”

  “Alberta boy,” she teased on an outrushing breath. “Was it your mom’s idea to call me?” She sounded much better, calmer. Her voice was evening out, but hadn’t shifted into that artificial calm he had so grown to dislike.

  ‘’Yeah, I didn’t even hardly get a hug; she looked around me a dozen ways from Sunday before she realized you weren’t in the car. Then she was all, ‘Give me your phone’. Wasn’t anything I could do, baby. I had to give it up.” He laughed at himself. “You don’t know Ma when she’s got something in her head. She’s like a terrier once she latches onto an idea.”

  “Well, I’m kinda glad she did.” She laughed lightly.

  “She had control, baby. There wasn’t anything I could do!” He paused and smiled. “Did she make it better?” Reaching into the front pocket of his pants, he fingered the small velvet box, teasing at the seam between the hinges with his calloused fingertips.

  “Much better, Jase. I should have trusted you. I should have known you’d never put me in a situation that was uncomfortable. I’m sorry.” She sighed again, and he knew her gaze was unfocused, probably directed down at the toes of her shoes. “Tell her thank you again from me, okay? Come home safe. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. See you soon, baby.” He hung up and turned to look at his mother, standing where he left her near the car. She pinned him with a sharp look and he shrugged at her. “She said to tell you thanks. You helped set her mind at ease.”

  She nodded and pursed her lips, staring at him. “Did you take the shot, Jase?”

  “Several of ‘em, Ma.” He laughed soundlessly, pulling the ring box out and showing her. “I have another shot I’m lining up, though.”

  She clapped her hands delightedly and nodded, repeating, “Take the shot.” Wrapping one palm around his upper arm, she turned him towards the house. “Now we hafta explain to your father why you’re quitting, but aren’t a quitter. Then, later,” she looked up at him, “you’re going to tell me about the patch I saw on the back of your vest, son. And then,” she took a deep breath, “you’re going to talk about Sharon. I want to know everything.”

  ***

  Back in Fort Wayne, Jase sat in the airport parking lot for a minute, his brain a muddle of thoughts and emotions. He had a good visit with his parents and believed his father had accepted his decision better than expected. Once he explained not only his reasoning, but also what he would be doing to pay back the sport that he loved, his dad was on board one-hundred percent. His mother was already a supporter of the decision, because she had nursed his injuries many times through the years, and knew that a career-ending one was always just a misstep away. This way he was going out while still healthy.

  Sighing, he started the truck, leaning his head against the steering wheel. Coming to a decision, he pulled out of the lot and headed to the clubhouse, where he hoped he would find Slate. In Red Deer, he met with officers and members of a club with a chapter there, and he wanted to relay their well wishes to his president. He had been surprised at how quickly news of events in Fort Wayne had traveled, because after a couple beers, one of the men had expressed concern over what happened with Birdy. Seemed they knew the guy who recommended him to Mason, and had dealings with the Utah club before. Just another mystery to chuck in the bucket, he thought.

  Pulling up in the lot, he was surprised to see a large number of bikes present, and he stood beside the truck for a moment, looking around and taking stock. He knew a bunch of the bikes, but not all, which meant visitors from another chapter. Smoothing his vest, he dangled his keychain from one finger, walking into the main room with a whistle and a shout. “Hey, man, did you know there’s not a single bike on the lot?” Seeing Pinto standing behind the bar, he walked that way as some of the men got up to walk outside. Taking the seat of one of the men leaving, he leaned against the bar and said, “Wait for it…wait for it…”

  Several of them came back inside, and one yelled over, “Thanks, asshole.”

  Jase turned on the stool, grinning widely. “You’re welcome, dickhead.”

  There was a jolt as someone kicked the legs of the stool, and he turned to see Mason standing next to him. “Nice. Smooth move, fucktard.”

  Nodding at him, Jase said, “Gullible isn’t pretty to watch, I know. I got a good seat outta the deal, though.”

  Giving him a half-grin and nodding, Mason said, “Come sit in the office with me and Slate. Wanna get your take on something we got going on.”

  Accepting a beer from Pinto, he followed Mason and narrowed his eyes when the door closed behind them. Greeting Slate, he waited for Mason to sit and then followed his example, choosing a seat that put him an equal distance from the two men. In silence, he waited for one of them to speak and clarify what the issue was.

  After a couple of minutes, he couldn’t stand it any longer and blurted, “What the fuck is going on?”

  Slate and Mason both laughed, and Slate pulled out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to Mason with a quietly muttered, “Fuck me.”

  He laughed, leaning forward, and propped his elbows on knees, saying, “You bet on how long I could be quiet?”

  “How long it would take you to want to know what was up,” Mason corrected him. “I said less than five minutes; Slate thought you’d last longer.” Mason shook his head. “I know you better.” He took a drink of his beer and said, “Tell me about Red Deer.”

  Nodding, Jase related the events surrounding his visit back home. “The club there was welcoming. Thanks for that advance call; it seemed to make all the difference in the world.” Mason inclined his head and made a ‘go ahead’ motion with his hand. “They already heard about Birdy and the issues we were having. Seems they’ve had dealings with Chief out in Utah before, said he was genuinely shocked at what went down. There’s a lotta admiration for Rebels there. It was good to hear them speak so openly about their respect for our club.”

  He shifted in his seat. “The version of the Birdy outcome was pretty spot on to what happened. Does that mean we have someone who’s talking out of school, Prez?” He looked at Slate when he spoke, but Mason answered.

  “Naw, I outlined
things when I made my call. They probably were testing you to see how forthcoming I’d been. It’s all good.” He looked at Jase for a minute. “How are you doin’, Cap’n?”

  “I’m good. Was good to see the family, get them behind my ideas.” He lifted his beer for a drink, pausing when Mason spoke again.

  “You know what the fuck I’m talking about. Don’t dodge the question, motherfucker.”

  “No, really, I’m good, Mason. I was good with it when it all went down. You know…I heard you in my head that night, talking about how we protect the ones we love. I knew Birdy was threatening not only the club and my brothers, but DeeDee, too. He was there.” He pointed at Slate. “He heard him. It wasn’t something I could let back onto the street. Not and feel safe ever again.”

  Mason nodded. “You did good, Jason. You did a hard thing, but for the right reasons. You know the club has your back, and now the club knows you have theirs, too. No doubts on either side. Any man in that room,” he pointed at the door, “or this one,” he swept his hand in an arc, “would die for you.”

  He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Mason forged ahead. “You played hockey all your fucking life. Played in a bunch of different countries, on a bunch of different teams. All those people you played with on all those teams, how many are you still in touch with?”

  “Two,” Jase said without hesitation. “Daniel and Lee.”

  “When you played on those teams, did you give fifty percent effort or a hundred fifty every game?”

  “Hundred fifty…or more.” Jase tilted his head. “Where are you going with this, Mason?”

  “Would you die for me? If needed, would you step up and save me at the cost of your own life?”

  “Yes, Mason. You know I would, man.” Sweat prickled on his back. This line of questioning was making him nervous.

  “Is the club worthy of your respect? You were honored in Red Deer that they thought favorably about the club. Are you honored to be a member?”

  He drew in a shaking breath. “Mason, yes. I am…it is. All my fucking life, I needed this. To find it now, when the club needed me…when I needed the club, that’s fate at work. I’m honored. I’m proud, and I’m a fucking Rebel.”

  “Goddamn right you are,” Mason said, leaning forward. “And because you are, you keep the club first. You protect the club against any threats, even from within. Because it’s what we do.” He reached out and slapped Jase’s chest hard with the back of his hand. “Because we’re fucking brothers…family, and we protect family. Don’t let what happened with Birdy fester, man. It was needful. Un-fucking-comfortable and hard as fuck, but needful, because it protected your club, your brothers, your woman. Your family. You got me?”

  Jase nodded, sinking backwards into the chair. “I got you, Prez.”

  Supporting you

  “Good, good.” He called across the ice to where the gaggle of eight-year-old kids was slowly skating towards the goal, “Looking good.” Bright laughter braided with a deeper, booming humor came from the stands behind him, and he glanced back to find Tyler sitting there with Bingo. One of the kids on the ice was one of his little brothers, Kane, and Jase grinned at the pair before turning back to the children.

  His gaze swept across the untrained and awkward kids, automatically categorizing them into ranks, cataloging a few who looked to have raw skill, or at least the enthusiasm to take chances. Kane fell into that latter group, and he broke away from the pack as Jase watched. The boy fell to his knees and bounced up, stick swinging wildly as he chased the puck. Two other boys and a girl followed him, the rest of the kids looking on in surprise.

  Jase called, “Stay on the puck, guys. Keep your stick blades flat and on the ice, the puck isn’t up by your shoulders; it’s by your toes. Good, Kane, that’s really good. Now, turn and follow the puck.” He looked up at the banner strung across the end of the rink in pride, Patterson-Spencer Hockey Foundation. When he talked to Anita Patterson about his idea to create a memorial for her father, she was touched and thrilled. He knew he wouldn’t be the man he was today without Coach, and as he described it to DeeDee, it was a chance to pay the efforts of his mentor forward in a meaningful way.

  He waved across ice for Lee to take over, waiting for his acknowledgment before he turned to walk up the stands. He had offered Lee the foundation manager’s position once he knew his dream would become a reality, and his friend had gladly accepted. It was a way to both put his degree to use and keep hockey in his life, just like Jase had wanted…needed for himself. Taking the wide strides required to move from seat to seat up into the stands, he walked up to where Bingo and Tyler were sitting.

  Turning to settle beside Tyler, he leaned back, propping his elbows on the bench behind them. “Didja come early to watch Kane? He’s gonna be a monster; look at that swish. Falls down, he bounces right back up. Natural player. I noticed he favors left. We’ll have to work on making him skate both directions; can’t favor the dominant side.” He was rambling, because he had been shocked when he got a good look at Bingo. Every time he saw him, the man looked worse than before.

  “Brother,” Bingo interrupted, and Jase went silent with a sucked in breath. He still wasn’t used to the greeting from the Rebel members, but it gave him a thrill of pleasure every time he heard it spoken. Bingo continued talking, and at his words, Jase drew in another breath, but this one in dismay. “I’m sick. Kids need a place to crash for a few days while I get checked out. Think you and DeeDee could help out?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation. He knew all nine of the kids, had five of them signed up for skate classes. Tyler was the oldest, and there was a span between the kids, because the youngest was about four. Even though he knew he would be bringing home a huge distraction and disruption to their household, he also knew he didn’t even have to check with DeeDee for her opinion. Bingo had been her husband’s best friend, practically family in that right alone, and she would do anything for him. “When do you have to go in?”

  “Tonight. I didn’t know until a little bit ago,” he said apologetically.

  “No matter. We got you, brother,” Jase answered, reaching out to ruffle Tyler’s hair. The boy’s face was set in somber lines, and he looked afraid. It was no wonder, because after losing his mother to cancer and dealing with his own illness, having his uncle get sick would be frightening. “Tyler, go see if Dugger needs some help. I think those kids are about to kick his ass.”

  Cutting him a grateful look, Tyler stood and made his way down the stands. Stepping onto the ice in his tennis shoes, he slipped a little, but then flatfooted it across the rink to where Lee was standing against the boards. Jase didn’t say anything, figuring if Bingo wanted a chance to talk, he at least had created the opportunity.

  The man cleared his throat, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Lung, before you ask. Doc thinks he caught it early. They’re going to do a biopsy in the morning. I’ll be out in a day unless something goes wrong. If it’s what the doc expects, they’ll cut out the one part, and I’ll be back to normal in a few weeks.” He shifted on the hard seat. “Thanks for this, man. The kids all like DeeDee, and most of them tolerate you pretty well.”

  Jase grinned over at him. “It’ll be a hardship for her, I’m sure,” he joked, and Bingo smiled back at him, both knowing she would love the hell out of having a full house of kids.

  Leaning back on his elbows, matching Jase’s pose, Bingo said, “Did she ever tell you she and Winger wanted a bunch of kids? The man wouldn’t shut up about it for years until everyone realized they couldn’t stay pregnant. Then you could tell he still wanted them, but quit talking about it to save her feelings.” He shook his head. “I loved my sister, but it always chapped my ass that a poor excuse for a mother like her could keep popping out babies, but DeeDee—” He trailed off, clearing his throat again.

  “She’ll enjoy having kids in the house,” Jase said. “I’ll give her a call in a minute and we’ll get everything sorted before you get there. I can
bring Kane with me, but do you need some help packing up and transporting the rest of the little monsters?”

  “Naw, Tyler and Megan, the two oldest, are a big help. We’ll bring clothes and toys and shit, so they can amuse themselves as much as possible. Shouldn’t be but a couple of days.” Bingo stood, not looking at Jase as he spoke. “Not asking you to keep this to yourself anymore, brother. I gotta be man enough to admit when I need help, or I’m not a good example for the boy. I can’t do this one alone.”

  He stepped carefully down the seats, the leather of his cut creaking with the movement. Reaching the mats that surrounded the boards, he motioned towards Tyler, and when the boy reached him, slung an arm around his shoulders as they walked out, lifting his hand in a two-fingered wave at Lee.

  Jase dug into his pocket and brought out his phone. Taking a deep breath, he called DeeDee and filled her in on the fundamental logistics of the coming evening. He touched on what to expect over the next couple of days, promising he would explain everything once he got home with Kane. Then he dialed a number from memory, smiling at Mason’s gruff response.

  “Mason, need to bring you in the loop on something,” he began, his calmness stemming from a sure confidence that the club would be there to support Bingo and the kids.

  Houseguests

  “Baby, can you get the door?” Jase called from the kitchen, where he was in the middle of packing four school lunches. Hearing what he assumed was an affirmative response, he continued to focus on the baggies of raw vegetables and chips he was tucking into the chill and non-chill areas of the insulated lunch bags the kids liked.

  Bingo’s biopsy had gone well, and the results showed about what the doctors had expected. He had come to stay with them after that procedure, and when his surgery had been scheduled within a week, it only made sense for the kids to stay, so they had been installed with him and DeeDee since then. Still in the hospital, Bingo was on the recovery side of the operation, but still weak and grouchy. The plan was for him to be released within a couple of days, and Jase hoped he would be coming back to their house for a while.