A Straw Man (The Clay Lion Series Book 3)

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A Straw Man (The Clay Lion Series Book 3) Page 8

by Amalie Jahn


  Halfway through Oregon, a buzzing sound distracted me from my progress. It took me a moment to remember that I’d set my phone on vibrate so it wouldn’t wake Victoria if it rang while she was napping. I quickly shuffled the paperwork from my lap to the floor and slid the sleeping bundle from my left arm onto the sofa in the space between my legs so I could reach my phone on the table behind me. I didn’t recognize the number on the screen but decided to answer the call anyway.

  “Hello?” I whispered into the receiver.

  “Melody?”

  I recognized Nate’s voice at once. He sounded haggard. And scared. Panic immediately set in.

  “Nate? What is it? Is something wrong?”

  Three days had passed since we’d last spoken. Our conversation included a heated exchange, ending with a series of accusations and hostile declarations. I recalled the pain in his voice as he’d said goodbye.

  Nate sighed deeply on the other end of the line, and I sat in transfixed anticipation of the reason for his call. Finally, he spoke.

  “I’m at the police station here at home.”

  My mind immediately began cataloguing the numerous explanations for why he would be at the police station. None of them were good.

  I couldn’t bring myself to respond. He was waiting for me to ask but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

  “Mel?”

  “I’m here,” I said.

  He hesitated. His silence was rife with embarrassment.

  “Whatever it is, Nate, we’ll figure it out,” I said in an attempt to coerce him into communicating what had happened.

  I could barely make out his response. “I got arrested,” he mumbled.

  I closed my eyes. Steadied my breathing. Braced myself for what I knew was coming.

  “Okay,” I replied as calmly as I could.

  “I can’t call my folks.” He took several deep breaths. “Can you come bail me out?”

  I glanced at Vicki napping peacefully between my calves. She was my responsibility. Nate was not. And yet being present for him was the very definition of love. Love meant showing up even when you didn’t want to, and in this particular instance, I really, really didn’t want to.

  But I had to.

  “I’ve got the baby so I need to call Brooke to make sure it’s okay if I bring her along,” I snapped. “Then I have to put away what I’m doing and get all her stuff packed up. It’s gonna be a while until I’ll be ready to head out so you’re gonna have to just sit tight.”

  Nate coughed several times and I could tell he was trying to hold himself together. Because that’s what he did. He held it together because he thought that’s what the world expected him to do.

  “Thanks, Mel,” he said finally.

  “Don’t thank me yet. I have a good mind to just leave you there and let you stew in your own mess for a while…”

  “Please don’t. Please come get me.” He coughed again. “I need you, Mel.”

  I glanced at the digital clock below the TV. It was just before noon which meant if I woke Vicki she would need to be fed and changed before we left. “I’ll be there in about two hours with my paycard,” I said finally.

  There was an awkward silence as Nate attempted to stifle his despondency. “Okay. I’ll see you soon,” he said at last. “I love you.”

  His final words tore through me. I struggled with the idea that somewhere, buried deep below the wretchedness of his addiction, a cinder of his love for me still burned.

  A part of me worried that it would eventually be snuffed out.

  Another part worried that it wouldn’t.

  C HAPTER FIFTEEN

  FALL SEMESTER - FIRST YEAR

  “You’re gonna have to suck it up on the alumni side with us,” Charlie teased as we pulled into the parking lot of Virginia Tech’s Lane Stadium. “And if you’re cheering for Nate too loudly, it might get ugly. I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you.”

  I was happy to have caught a ride with Brooke and Charlie to see Nate’s final game of the season against the Hokies in Blacksburg. Since they both earned their graduate degrees from Virginia Tech and were headed to the game anyway, they were happy to let me tag along, though we clearly disagreed about which team was going to win.

  The temperature was only in the mid 30’s but the sun was shining, and with enough layers I was almost warm. Since most of the alumni seats were in the shade, I was glad we’d brought a pile of blankets from home. I convinced myself that freezing was a small price to pay for the chance to be closer to where Nate would be on the visiting side of the field.

  Brooke stopped a dozen times to say hello to professors and students she knew on her way through the crowd, so by the time we finally got to our seats, it was almost time for the kickoff. Once we settled ourselves on the cold, metal bleachers, I was thrilled to discover we were close enough to the field to spot Nate in his position at Sam’s right, toward the end of the offensive line.

  Our first drive resulted in a field goal, which Tech quickly trumped with a touchdown of their own in the middle of the first quarter. The boys were down 7-3, and with the deafening Hokies crying out for defense, it seemed like I was the only person in the crowd cheering for UVA as they approached the end zone. That was until I heard Charlie shouting Nate’s name when he managed a difficult first down to put UVA within field goal range.

  It was amazing to watch Sam and Nate in action together on the field. Although two years his senior, Sam had immediately taken Nate under his wing at the start of the season. Their coach’s unconventional strategies often connected Sam and Nate to one another on the field, and the level of comradery established during play quickly found its way into the boys’ personal relationship, rendering them nearly inseparable. They ate meals together, hung out in each other’s rooms playing videogames, went to parties together, and had even been known to wash each other’s laundry. By the end of their first season together, they were more brothers than teammates and that level of trust translated seamlessly onto the field.

  I held my breath as Sam rocketed the ball toward Reggie, one of his go-to wide receivers. The throw careened out of bounds and cheers erupted from the entire stadium. After a quick huddle, Sam handed off the ball to a running back everyone called Shoestring. I had no idea what his actual name was and I had no idea what his nickname meant, but when he was tackled inches from the goal line, it was Nate who helped him up off the ground.

  As the team set up for what would probably be the final play of the drive, I sat on my hands, not only to keep them warm but also to prevent me from jumping out of my skin. I caught a look pass between Sam and Nate and knew instinctively that Sam was giving him the ball. As the play clock ticked down and the snap was released, Nate headed across the field behind the line of scrimmage. Sam faked a pass to the opposite side of the field, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew where the ball was going. Sure enough, Sam turned in the final seconds before an impending sack and handed off the ball to Nate who ran unobstructed into the end zone for a touchdown.

  Hokie groans overpowered our cheers, but as Nate approached the sidelines, he was greeted by a procession of high fives and slaps to the rear from his teammates and coaches. I watched as he turned his face toward the stands and began scanning the spectators for signs of a familiar face. I went to every home game but had never managed to attend any away games because of the distance and lack of transportation. It was a big deal for him that I’d convinced Brooke and Charlie to bring me, and I could tell by the look in his eyes he was hoping I saw his touchdown. As his gaze grew closer to where I was sitting, I began waving my hands frantically above my head in the hopes of grabbing his attention. Happily, my enthusiasm worked, and he returned my gesture by blowing a double handed kiss in my direction.

  “He’s really something, huh?” Charlie teased, elbowing me in the ribs in a very big-brother sort of way. “Almost like he’s showing off for someone special.”

  “He is something,” I agreed, ignoring his jabs, both physica
l and playful. I wouldn’t allow Charlie’s banter to get the better of me although I knew it was good-natured. As the only male role model in my life for so many years, he took his position of authority very seriously and was mindful of the boys I’d dated during high school. He never told me who I could and couldn’t see, but he always made sure the boys knew he was around to protect me. Since Nate and I had already been together three months without a single opportunity for them to officially meet, I knew Charlie was hoping to make his presence known after the game.

  “What’s his major again?” he asked.

  “Anatomy and physiology. He wants to be a physical therapist.”

  He nodded as if he had Nate all figured out, helping himself to another nacho from the plastic container we were sharing. “Gonna try and get in with an NFL team or something if he doesn’t get drafted?”

  “No,” I replied, “I think he wants to work with the elderly. Like rehabilitative therapy.”

  He took his attention off the game long enough to raise an eyebrow in my direction.

  “Seriously?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and took a sip of my lukewarm hot chocolate. “Yeah. Seriously. His parents are really pushing for him to draft with the NFL, but he says it’s not the lifestyle he’s interested in living. He’s good though, don’t you think? I bet he’d have a shot.”

  Charlie nodded thoughtfully as our defense stopped the Hokies at their own 40 yard line. “Yeah. I bet he would. He’s had a great season. But if it’s not what he wants, no one should pressure him into it. He should make his own decisions.”

  “Like you made your own decision about using your trip to find your birth mother?” Now I was the one jabbing him in the ribs. “Look how great that almost turned out.”

  “Hey,” Brooke piped up, “he may have hit a few hurdles, but things have certainly worked out for your brother. The decisions he’s made have been his own. It’s a gift to be able to live your life on your own terms.”

  I threw my hands up in my own defense. “Hey! I’m not the one shoving football down his throat. That’s his family. I told you there’s dozens of them, between all his brothers and sisters and their husbands and wives and kids. I think they see dollar signs when they look at Nate.”

  “And you don’t?” Charlie asked.

  I had never stopped to consider what attracted me to Nate. Our relationship was in its infancy, and the allure of financial freedom hadn’t even crossed my mind. I didn’t see Nate as a meal ticket or a security blanket. I saw him as a guy who enjoyed the comradery of playing on a team with his friends and the companionship of being in a relationship with me. I hadn’t thought much further than the end of the first semester and I certainly didn’t harbor any delusions about becoming an NFL wife. I was with Nate because he made me laugh, he made time for me, and he made me feel appreciated. There was nothing more to it than that.

  “No. Honestly, if we should end up together, like really end up together, I’d rather him be happy than rich.”

  Charlie blew into his hands to warm them and leaned around me to share a conspiratorial look with Brooke. “She’s a good egg, this one.”

  “Always has been,” she replied.

  I rolled my eyes at how cheesy the two of them could be but secretly delighted in the warmth of my family’s love as we cheered the Cavaliers to a 23-17 victory. Sam and Nate connected for a second touchdown in the beginning of the fourth quarter and they ended up winning on field goals. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as we watched the team celebrate their victory from the stands above.

  We waited for what seemed like hours outside the locker rooms for the team to appear. A few straggled out in twos and threes before a massive swell of unmitigated testosterone flooded through the double doors. In the center of it all were Nate and Sam, freshly showered and giddy as two schoolboys given a free pass from detention. Nate noticed me before I could call to him and he hurried to my side, planting a kiss on my cheek.

  “How’s my favorite cheerleader? Did you enjoy the game?”

  “I did. You were amazing.”

  “Nah. I was just in the right place at the right time.” He adjusted his duffle on his shoulder and noticed my family standing behind me. He leaned forward and extended his hand to Charlie. “Hey. I’m Nate. You must be Melody’s brother, Charlie. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Nate. Melody’s told us a lot about you.” He released his hand from Nate’s grip and took a step back to keep from having to crane his neck in order to see him fully. “That was one heck of a show you boys put on out there today. Great way to end the season.”

  “It always feels good to win,” Nate agreed.

  Brooke slid past me and took a step in his direction. “This is my sister-in-law, Brooke,” I said, by way of introduction as Nate overpowered her with a hug she clearly wasn’t expecting.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said from beneath the folds of his jacket.

  “You too! It’s nice to finally put faces to all the stories Melody’s told me about you all.”

  Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and drew his breath in sharply. “I can only imagine what she’s told you,” he chuckled. “There certainly is a lot to tell!”

  Our laughter was followed by uncomfortable silence, and I stared at the ground, not knowing what to say as I kicked the gravel drive with my boots. Most of the team had already boarded the bus headed back to school, and it was time for us to leave as well.

  But the truth was, I didn’t want him to go back.

  I wanted him to come home with me.

  I tucked my hair behind my ears and peered up at him. His eyes were the same color as the sky, but full of ever so much more promise. The promise of who we were together being far more amazing than who we were apart.

  I couldn’t stop myself. Words spilled out of my mouth before I took the time to think them through.

  “Do you have plans, you know, back at school, for the rest of the weekend?” I asked, unsure of what he would say or if I truly wanted to hear his response. Maybe there would be parties. Maybe there would be wild nights at the bars in town.

  Maybe there would be other girls.

  He shook his head. “No. Not really. Nothing I couldn’t be talked out of.” The corner of his mouth puckered into a dimple. “Why?”

  I avoided making eye contact with Charlie as I continued to blather on. “It’s just that we have a ton of turkey and stuffing and green bean casserole at home and if you didn’t have anything else going on at school, I thought you might be interested in coming to our house for the rest of the weekend.” I paused to catch my breath. “But you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I added.

  I followed Nate’s gaze to Brooke, who had wiggled her way inside the liner of Charlie’s coat while he was still wearing it. She shivered against him as the last slivers of pale November sun disappeared below the horizon. I got the sense that he was looking to her for approval.

  “Mom won’t care,” Charlie said at last. “There’s plenty of space. He’s welcome to crash in my room.”

  I turned to face him and he reached out to take my hand.

  “Yeah. Sure. I’d love to come.” He held up his duffle. “But I only have one change of clothes and no toothbrush, so maybe we could stop to pick one up somewhere along the way?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  FALL SEMESTER - FIRST YEAR

  After a microwaved dinner of Thanksgiving leftovers and a recap of the game for my mom, Charlie and Brooke said their goodbyes and headed to their house for the night. I led Nate up the stairs to Charlie’s old room, carrying a small bag of toiletries from the corner drugstore as he followed behind, lugging his heavy duffle. I switched on the overhead light as we entered the room.

  “This place is amazing,” he said, as he set down his things to properly assess the expanse of Charlie’s bedroom. “You didn’t tell me you live in a mansion.”

  I felt heat rising to my cheeks. �
��It’s not a mansion, really.”

  He plopped down heavily onto Charlie’s king bed and sprung himself up and down on the mattress several times, testing its durability. “This room is about the size of the first floor of my entire house. And ten of us lived there. I can’t imagine what it would have been like having this much room to spread out.” He ran his hand over Charlie’s thick comforter. “And think about your mom… when you’re at school, she has the whole house to herself. Must be kinda lonely.”

  I reflected upon just how empty our house had always felt and how easy it had been as a child to lose myself in its many nooks and crannies. I remembered escaping from the world for hours at a time, alone with my books, without fear of having to engage in any sort of family routines. How different our childhoods must have been.

  I took a tentative step in his direction from where I stopped short in the center of the room, and he immediately pulled me on to the bed beside him. He stretched out so that when he rested on his elbow, he could look directly at me, face to face.

  “Tell me what it was like.”

  “Tell you what what was like?”

  “What it was like, growing up here?”

  There was so little to tell and so much to explain. I didn’t know quite where to begin or what he actually wanted to know. I considered the house itself and how all the square footage and interior designers in the world couldn’t make a house feel like a home. In truth, I didn’t know why my mom hadn’t sold it and downsized years ago, but I supposed she had her reasons. Perhaps there were memories she couldn’t stand to part from.

  “It was okay,” I said finally.

  “Okay? Are you joking?”

  “No. I mean, you’re right. The house is amazing. It’s beautiful and well-maintained and I never had to worry about not having my own space. I guess I always just kind of had too much space.” I glanced around Charlie’s room at his old trophies and books and posters of European castles and soccer teams on the walls. “But space without love to fill it up is just space,” I said finally.

 

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