The Comeback Route

by Jamie Bennett

  Chara and Lucy were watching us talk back and forth. “It’s not the same cider, Tatum,” Lucy explained, just as her daughter said, “I guess he is your boyfriend.”

  “What?” Nico asked her.

  She blushed. “I mean, Tatum would say that you were together, but I didn’t really believe it. But seeing you two now, I can tell that he really is your Pirro.”

  “He isn’t,” I told her. “He isn’t anything like Pirro.”

  “Tatum, he totally is!” Chara insisted. “He’s nice to you sometimes in private, like now, but in public he’s with other women and he doesn’t care about you at all.”

  “Chara, are you admitting that’s how Pirro treats you?” Lucy asked. She looked hopeful. “Now will you break up with him?”

  “Ugh!” Chara threw down her fork. “I’m so tired of you always getting on me about Pirro!” They argued more about him, about bad table manners, and about poor language until Chara left the table.

  “Please excuse my daughter,” Lucy said. She slammed another piece of chicken onto my already full plate. “Her boyfriend is an asshole but she won’t acknowledge it.”

  I slid the extra chicken over to Nico when Lucy turned to glare at her daughter’s bedroom door. “No, she admits it. But not to you, Lucy. She’s never going to do that! It’s like when I was interested in resurrection, and everyone said, ‘No! You can’t mess with stolen body parts!’ but I…” I looked at Lucy and Nico. “Maybe that’s a story for another time. My point is, if you leave her alone, she’s going to dump him. I swear it.” Lucy looked skeptical and we started talking about the bakery instead.

  Nico and I left not too much later. He was quiet as we walked to the car, his tiny yellow t-shirt still bright in the muted light of the apartment courtyard. “Did you like them?” I asked. “Did you like Lucy and Chara? So far, they’re my best friends in Miami, besides you.”

  “Tatum, you’ve known them about a week,” he said, and kept walking pretty fast.

  “Can you slow down? I’m wearing only the one good shoe,” I panted, and he did. “Thanks. I may not have worked at El Asturiano for very long, but it’s enough time to know that Lucy is awesome, and I like Chara a lot, too,” I said. “I heard today how the bakery got its name. It explains about the cider problem I had, also.”

  Nico listened as he drove back to our building but he still didn’t say very much. The apartment was totally empty of anyone but us, but they had left a mess of papers, wrappers, bottles, and cans. I started to clean things up a little. “I learned to sweep the other day. I’m pretty good now,” I said, taking a broom from the small utility closet. “Oh! I meant to tell you, I worked out in my head how all those people were having sex on the water heater in here. If one person balanced his ass on the wall above the valves, and another held on to this pipe—”

  “Tatum, don’t worry about showing me how to sweep, and come sit down and talk to me for a minute. I got some news today about the drug charges.”

  I dropped the broom and ran over so fast to where he was sitting on the couch that I tripped and fell into it.

  “Ow!”

  “What is it, did you pop your stitches?” Nico grabbed my coconut-injured hand.

  “No, my hand is fine, but I think I bruised my hip on the cushion. For our next couch, we should test drive a few first to make sure they won’t hurt us to sit on them.”

  He dropped my hand and rubbed his eyes. “When you say things like that, you make it so much harder.”

  Panic leaped up in my chest. “Oh my God, you’re already getting sent up! Ok, ok, I’ve been working on this. I just have to make a call to get Salvador’s boat ready for us—oh, no! My phone is out of minutes and we can’t use a landline and give away our accomplices!” I started to run to my bedroom to get our emergency bags but Nico grabbed my uninjured hand.

  “Tatum, I don’t want to hear another word about any boat or accomplices. No, I’m not getting sent up, because the drug charges are going to be dropped. It’s going to take some wrangling, but they’ll disappear.”

  “What?” I shrieked. “That’s wonderful!” I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Why? Did they realize that you were innocent?”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with me being innocent—in the eyes of the police and the football league, I’m still guilty. The thing is, you were right about it being strange that the raid happened exactly when three professional football players went inside. They had been watching the house for a long time but some low-level rookie got really excited when he saw us and jumped the gun on the search. They didn’t have the proper warrants or papers or whatever yet and didn’t identify themselves correctly, and the drug guy who owns the whole operation had some very smart lawyers who figured out the mistakes pretty fast. My own million-dollar team just jumped on the bandwagon.”

  “And the resisting arrest stuff? Does that get dropped also?”

  “They’re calling it assault, so not right away. But my lawyers seem to think they’ll be able to make that disappear too, without any more help from the drug lord’s attorneys.” Nico sighed. “Pretty sad that he’s going to stay out of jail because the three of us idiots happened to walk into the house that day. It’s a shame.”

  “It’s a shame about him, but I’m glad for you! Why aren’t you more excited?”

  “I still come out as the criminal who was buying drugs and assaulted a police officer. I’m glad that the charges were dropped, but I’m the bad guy getting off on a technicality. The Cottonmouths are still done with me and I don’t blame them. The whole league is gun-shy after what happened last year with Adam Mozkortuta on the Glaciers.”

  I remembered that. He’d been signed there in spite of his three DUIs and then gotten another one on his way to the Glaciers’ first home game, taking out a large part of a library when he lost control of his car while fleeing from the police as they tried to pull him over. Three kids had been slightly injured and the league seemed to change its mind on second chances for the players (or fourth chances, as with Adam Mozkortuta).

  “So you won’t be able to sign with another Confederation team before next season? Ok, then here’s an idea. What about—”

  “Hang on. There is a new idea, a new plan from Ethan and the crisis management team that may get me back in the league again. It can include you, if you want it to.”

  “Of course it will include me,” I said, a little confused. My work with him was nowhere near done. The arrest had been quite a setback.

  Now Nico put his head in his hands. “Tates, this is what you were saying to your friends at the bakery, to your boss. That we’re together. We’re living together, yes. But we’re not living together.”

  “Ok, sure,” I said. At least he had finally realized that my presence in his house wasn’t a temporary stay, and he was just going to have to get used to the rest. “What’s the plan?”

  He started to say something, then stopped. “I don’t know if I should do this. I don’t know if it’s fair to you.”

  “Nico, this is very serious.” I looked him in the eyes. “Are you going to fake your death and assume a new identity?”

  “Not in the way you’re thinking, Deborah Pearl, bug exterminator. But I do have to start over, start fresh, in a way. And they want you, Tatum. They want you to be part of it, showing up on my social media, being my, uh, stabilizing force as I get back on the field. They like the idea of a local girl, the one I left back at home, that kind of BS.”

  “Local? What do you mean? And what do you mean, getting back on the field?”

  “I’m going to play in the Confederation’s junior league, starting next week,” Nico explained.

  “The development league?” Mostly, it was for players who didn’t get drafted out of college, but it was also used for injury rehab. This would be another kind of rehab: getting Nico back into league executives’ good graces. “What team?”

  “The Junior Woodsmen.”

  I looked at h
im for a moment in silence. “In Michigan? Back where you used to play?”

  “They’re willing to take the chance on me. It would mean getting paid, some. And moving back to Michigan, yes, as soon as the court okays it.” He was looking at me, too.

  I had one big question. “Would we be taking the bus there?”

  “Uh, no. No bus.”

  Then it looked like it was goodbye to my chancs, hello to the old snow boots.

  Chapter 10

  Give up some gratitude for second chances! Aren’t we lucky to have them? But remember: you messed it up the first time, so don’t do it again.

  Three days until my book release! Have you already pre-ordered?

  Yours in hoping for positive reviews, Mysti

  “I’m going to miss you all so much! You’re like a second family to me.” I blew my nose on one of the new, logoed napkins that Lucy had ordered per my suggestion. “Do you think you’ll be able to get by without me, with the new décor and the social media? All the marketing ideas?”

  Lucy nodded. “We’ll be fine. You know, you were only working here for two weeks.”

  “Seriously?” I looked around El Asturiano. “It feels like I’ve been here forever!”

  “We had a bet going on how long you were going to last,” Chara told me. I had seen money changing hands among the other bakery employees before my going-away party had started. “My mom said three weeks but I took the under.” She pulled a wad of cash from her pocket. “It was a good call, but I wish you weren’t going to move, Tatum. I’ll miss you, too.” She also took a napkin—made from recycled fibers—and wiped under her eyes. Since she had officially ditched the idiot Pirro, she was wearing less makeup than when I had met her. Also, Lucy said she was running after school to get herself back in shape so she would be able to try for the high school soccer team for her senior season, so I felt that my life coaching was leaving Chara in a better place.

  “You can come visit me in Michigan, once we settle in,” I told her. “I hope you will.”

  “Tatum, can I talk to you for a moment?” Lucy gestured toward the kitchen, and I followed her away from everyone enjoying their sidra and into the back. “I wanted to discuss something important,” she said.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m already on antivenom,” I assured her.

  “What? What are you talking about?” Lucy asked me, confused.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all, never mind. What’s up?”

  She shook her head. “I wanted to make sure you’re really ok to move to Michigan with Nico. Chara has been filling me in on your relationship, or what you seem to think is your relationship.”

  “Aunt Lucy—can I call you that?”

  “I guess,” she said, looking confused again.

  “I know, I’m absolutely sure, that everything is going to work out perfectly with Nico. I have one hundred percent confidence in it, because despite how he acted for a while, he’s not a dumb guy. Pretty soon he’ll come to terms with it all.”

  “With it all, meaning, with you as his girlfriend?”

  “Oh, I’m not stopping at girlfriend. Nico and I are going to get married, and if possible, our first child will be a boy named Bastian, after the lifeguard who saved me two days ago in the pool when I went for a celebration swim after I got the stitches out of my hand. I’m not going in the pool again,” I promised.

  “See, when you say things like that, that’s what makes me worried.” She paused, crinkling her forehead. “I’m not sure how to phrase this tactfully so I’m just going to spit it out. You sound off the rails nuts, Tatum. Like, you sound totally crazy when you talk about Nico.”

  I laughed. “Do I? That’s what he says sometimes, too!”

  Lucy put her hand to her worried forehead. “But your family is in Michigan, right? They live where you’ll be moving back to, and they can keep an eye on you.”

  “My friend Daisy is there, yes, and her new husband. And my dad is still there, I guess, but I haven’t talked to him at all since I left. It’s just hard when someone lets you down,” I explained.

  “I’m sure he’ll forgive you if you feel you’ve let him down. Give him a chance!” she urged.

  “No, it’s…it’s ok, yeah.” I didn’t want Lucy to worry about me. “Don’t spend another moment thinking about me and Nico. I realize it might sound strange, but it’s going to work out. I made a mistake before when I let him get away from me and it isn’t happening again. He won’t get away this time. Never, I won’t let him escape.” I paused and she stared at me. “Ok, now I hear it too! I do sound nuts!” I laughed, and Lucy cracked a very tiny, wavering smile. “By the way, did Chara tell you about the job offer?”

  “She said that Nico is letting her run his social media, yes, and paying her for it. I’m worried about that, as well.”

  “It won’t get in the way of her schoolwork, I promise,” I said solemnly.

  “It’s just, a teenager? Managing a public figure’s, uh, persona?” Lucy sounded very skeptical.

  “She swore that she’s just going to choose from the pictures and clips or whatever we send her and write good tags and captions. She’s not going to read the nasty comments or engage at all with the mean people who follow him. Chara’s so clever with what she says about her own stuff.”

  “She is?” Lucy asked me, and I nodded.

  “Nico follows her on everything, and I will too, once I upgrade my phone.” I hopped off the counter where Lucy didn’t like me to sit anyway and hugged her. “Chara is going to be great. At everything! And especially at doing this for Nico. And I’m going to be great, and if you don’t mind, can I keep calling you to talk about ideas for El Asturiano? Or maybe just to talk?”

  She hugged me back, hard. “I hope you do. Because even though I knew you wouldn’t be my longest-lasting employee, you certainly did make an impression, and I’m going to miss you, too.”

  It wasn’t exactly Mary Poppins, riding off on the wind or whatever, but I did have a little bit of a Hollywood exit as a shiny black car drove me away and I waved to everyone out of the window. “¡Adiós! ¡Hasta luego! Goodbye!” I called, until I couldn’t see the sunlight glinting off the glass of the bakery windows anymore. I was going to miss that place a lot, but I was going to return one day.

  I said goodbye to Bastián and Del at the building, too, and to everyone else I had met in my brief life in Miami. I packed away all my gear into my suitcase as best I could but things seemed to have expanded, probably from the Florida humidity. My exterminator suit and matching hood just wouldn’t fit, so I put them in the closet for the next tenant to use, very regretfully.

  “Are you going to be sorry to leave this apartment?” I asked Nico as we took one last look around the next morning.

  “Not at all,” he said briefly. “I hated this place. It always felt about as warm and cozy as a meat locker. But I am sorry to leave Miami, because as angry as I was to come down here, I think I could have…” He trailed off. “I was lucky to get this chance and I pissed it away, but maybe I’ll get another one someday.”

  “You know what they say about second chances,” I said, and he waited. “‘Remember that you messed up the first time, so don’t do it again.’ That’s what my inspirational email told me this morning.”

  “Thank you, yes, that’s very inspiring.” He shook his head. “Let’s get back to Michigan. I’m ready to freeze my balls off again.”

  “I can help you keep them—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” Nico told me and grinned, and we closed the door on Miami.

  A few hours later (five-some hours later) we were circling above Traverse City and Nico looked a lot less optimistic than he had when we left the apartment in Florida. It hadn’t been the easiest trip, with people whispering, pointing, staring, and generally treating him like he was a diseased specimen in a petri dish.

  I had stuck to him like glue, and anybody who gave us a look, I just shot a large, sweet smile right back, my eyes as big and innoce
nt as I could make them. They could all suck on that. Nico kept his sunglasses on and didn’t say a whole lot, except when one kid asked for his autograph as the boy’s mother frowned in our direction. Nico was happy to talk to him because he always liked talking to kids, but after a moment, the mom pulled the little boy away and Nico went back to silence.

  Usually, I really liked airports and flights, because I met so many people and learned so many things, like once I sat next to a woman on a flight to Indonesia and she gave me some great tips about safecracking that had pretty much changed my life. Just lately I had learned that Indonesia didn’t have an extradition treaty with the United States, and suddenly, that woman’s trip made more sense to me.

  Anyway, today I was happy to see the ground approaching as the plane descended and for this particular set of flights to be over, because it had been hard to witness the prevailing attitude toward Nico. Salvador the cabdriver had told me what people were feeling in Miami, but seeing it first-hand as we traveled made me realize how much work we had to do.

  I looked at the snowy ground below us. When I had left Michigan on the bus, I had been sure that I would never be back. And now, I was feeling a sense of homecoming that surprised me a lot, and made me feel very happy. I leaned up and kissed Nico on the cheek, under the rim of his sunglasses.

  “What’s up?” he asked me. “You ok?”

  “I’m glad to be home. Are you?” I kissed him again, because he really was very kissable. After the second one, he stopped looking so stressed and smiled at me. His arm went around my shoulders, too. Once we had seen how things were going in the airport, the disapproval and the anger, Nico had rested a hand on my shoulder and had either left it there or held my hand for most of the trip. His arm felt even nicer.

  “I am glad to be back, in a way. I spent a lot of good years here. It’s going to be strange being on the B-team. Or C, or D-team, I guess.” He looked out the window too, but he didn’t appear to be seeing anything.