by Laney Monday
The cooks and their helpers still had the best opportunity, though, didn’t they? Except they also had knives readily available. A knife might be a little harder to slip into a pocket or a purse, and you could accidentally stick yourself with it. But it certainly was a more sensible weapon than a meat thermometer.
I had to figure out who Dina Hermiston had been arguing with. Was it Gunter Hatton again? Was Gunter’s alibi as solid as the police thought? Maybe it was, and she’d argued with someone else after Gunter. I recalled the argument I’d overheard. Was Dina heavily invested in this election, or had she just used that as leverage against Gunter? I’d gotten the impression she cared passionately about the outcome, but she’d hinted there was more. What was it she’d said? It’s not just your campaign I’ll see ruined. She wanted Gunter Hatton ruined. Why?
And had that second argument been about the election too, even if it had been with someone else?
I pulled my gi back on and bowed onto the mat, still tying my belt. The kids were in the middle of their customary post-lunch judo quiz.
“Sensei Brenna! Tell us a story!” Jacob called out.
We liked to have the kids do something a little less active while they digested their lunches. It helped minimize puking incidents, which were by far my least favorite part of being a grown-up looking after children. Plus, the kids got to learn some judo history, terminology, and other trivia. Sometimes they wheedled me into telling a judo story.
“Please, please!” the other kids chimed in.
“Alright, alright.” I kneeled down and they sat around me, legs crossed, just like we’d taught them. “Once upon a time, in a training camp far, far, away…there was a Latvian woman with the stinkiest judo gi ever to walk the planet. I know what you’re thinking. ‘Sensei Brenna, judo gis can’t walk.’ But I’m telling you, this one could. The force of funktification was strong with that one.”
The kids burst into laughter. They laughed so loud, I didn’t hear the bells on the door chime. I didn’t know anyone was there until—
“Hi there, ladies.”
That voice! I froze at the sound. It couldn’t be. Blythe made a faint, stifled squeak of horror. I turned around. It was him. Blond and tan and trim. Wearing his Team USA coach’s polo and track pants.
A weak sound escaped Blythe’s lips. “No.”
It was barely audible, but I knew she wanted to scream it. It couldn’t be Jake. Not here. Not now. The laughter died. The kids stared from us to Jake. And I swear, The Imperial March played in my head.
10
“Sensei Brenna, who’s that?” Katie whispered.
How, exactly, could I answer that question? I might’ve said, An old friend, except he wasn’t a friend. Not anymore. “Someone I used to know,” I told Katie, “from Arizona.” I touched Blythe’s arm. “I’ll handle this.”
Blythe nodded and turned back to the kids. “Come on, everyone. Back to work. O-goshi, five times each.” As she put her hand on their backs to nudge them toward their partners and practice the judo throw, I saw her shake.
I took purposeful breaths, trying to slow down the pounding of my heart. The rage that was trying to claw its way out of the depths of me and up to the surface. I folded my arms and gave him a curt nod, and hated the fact that Jake knew my match face so well. I always felt safe behind that mask, but Jake had taught me how to put it on. He knew it was just a shield.
“Let’s talk outside, Jake.”
“What, no hello?” Jake was already at the matside, about to take off his shoes and waltz on. He actually had the nerve to look a little hurt that we weren’t welcoming him with open arms. You know, our least favorite person in the world, right in the middle of working with our day campers.
“No,” I said coldly.
He shrugged it off and followed me out the door—the back door. I didn’t want to get into it with him right in front of the studio.
Once we were standing in the parking lot behind the studio, he grinned. “Nice to see you, too, Brenna.”
I used to love that grin. Now, not so much. In fact, not at all. Let me tell you, Jake might be handsome, but he had nothing on Will Riggins’s smile.
“What are you doing here?” I said. “We’re kind of in the middle of something, in case you didn’t notice. Surprise, surprise, we have lives here, Jake.” I didn’t bother to ask why he didn’t call first. He actually had called, though he hadn’t attempted any contact in the last day or two. I hadn’t responded.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d have class during the day.”
“It’s a summer day camp.”
“Ahh. Judo babysitting, huh?”
“Actually, no. Those kids have learned a lot this summer.”
Jake held his hands up. “No offense.”
Yeah, right. Your face offends me, Jake, the teenager in me wanted to say. “Why are you here, if it isn’t to offend me and Blythe in some way?” Whether he’d meant to make a jab at us or not, I knew he looked down on what we were doing here. He looked down on anything beneath top level judo.
“Touchy, touchy.”
“No, you’re the one who’s touchy-touchy. That’s why you and Blythe aren’t married anymore, remember? Just couldn’t stop touchy-touching, could you? What’s the matter? Bored with Mitzi already? Or did you get ditched this time?” Now there was a comforting thought! I found myself hoping Mitzi had left him for a young, professional baseball player or something along those lines. Now that would drive competitive Jake crazy.
“I’m here to do a judo seminar in Seattle. One of the judo clubs there brought me in. Budokai. I’m sure you’ve been up there to visit.”
“No,” I said cooly.
Jake looked genuinely surprised. I guess he figured I’d make my own little tour of all the dojos in the Northwest, going around and showing them who was boss. That’s probably what Jake would do. But I wasn’t Jake, and I didn’t want to meet the rest of the Northwest judo community as Brenna Battle, the Olympian. I wanted to get to know them as colleagues, as just another coach trying to get a new judo team off the ground.
I cocked my head at Jake. “If you’re here for a seminar in Seattle, then what are you doing here? Last I checked we’re South of the SeaTac Airport, and Seattle is North. I think you took a wrong turn somewhere, Jake.”
I turned at the sound of the back door slamming.
“Wouldn’t be the first time he took a wrong turn.”
“Blythe!” Jake said cheerfully, ignoring the insult.
Interesting. He was used to my attitude. He’d dealt with it for almost a decade, though he hadn’t typically been the target of my animosity until recent years. But Blythe? This was new. Even through the divorce proceedings, she’d been devastated, then taken a classy but stunned approach with him. It wasn’t until the day when it was finalized that she fell apart. And that was just with me.
“The kids are on a water break,” Blythe told me. Her hands shook as she tightened her judo belt, probably just so she’d have something to do with her hands…unless she was envisioning tightening them around Jake’s neck, like I was.
The kids really shouldn’t be left alone, but I could tell this was something my sister needed to do. She had that I’m not going to take it anymore look on her face. She was done being the victim and she was finally ready to tell that to Jake, face to face.
Jake was either still in denial, or pretending not to notice her anger in hopes that she’d give up on it. He said, “I flew into Portland. I did a seminar down there first. I’m headed North now. It’s a nice drive. I’ve never seen the Northwest coast.”
I glanced at Blythe, at the hard look of hatred smoldering in her eyes. Her lips were clenched tight. I was half curious what wanted to erupt out of them, and half scared to find out.
“Well, don’t let us keep you from your sightseeing,” I said. Maybe it was best if Jake just went away before my beautiful, refined sister transformed into something really ugly right before our eyes. From Disney prin
cess to dragon queen villainess in eight seconds flat.
Jake turned away from Blythe, watching her warily out of the corner of his eye. “The thing is, Brenna. I was thinking, you know how I teach. Maybe you could come up with me and be my uke for the seminar. I’ll buy you lunch.”
Lunch? I love food, but not enough to let Jake buy me lunch. I wouldn’t even let him buy me fillet mignon or a mountain of cream-puffs, or genuine Italian lasagne. “You want me to be your dummy?” I said. No, thanks. I’d been Jake’s dummy one time too many. And I don’t mean on the mat. “You have a lot of nerve, Jake Fletcher.”
“Please, Brenna. Can’t we just put the past behind us for a day? I barely made it work in Portland without a good uke.”
“Oh, please,” Blythe said. “What does every other clinician do? I’ve never seen one travel with his own uke. You just want Brenna there because she’s your claim to fame. You just want to use her like you used me!”
Blythe burst into tears and lunged at Jake. I don’t know what she was going to do, but she stopped halfway through the motion. I certainly wasn’t about to stop her. She turned sharply and hurried up the stairs to our apartment, head down, Making little trying-not-to-cry sounds. She turned the knob, but of course the door was locked. We were really careful about that. And she didn’t have her keys in her judo gi.
“I’ll get them, Bly,” I called up to her. “Don’t move,” I threatened Jake. I rushed inside, grabbed her keys out of her desk drawer.
“Sensei,” Sammi said seriously, “should we call 9-1-1?”
“No!” I said a little too sharply. The image of Will answering that call, of him and Jake—it was too much. “Everything’s under control.”
“Sensei Brenna,” my little Grace asked, “do you have to go back to Arizona?”
“No, I’m not going anywhere, Gracie. I’ll be right back.”
I ran back out, making sure to shut the door behind me. Surprisingly, Jake had only dared go as far as the first step. Blythe stood at the door to our apartment, her back to the stairs, arms crossed. She was trying to look firm, but it looked just as much like she was hugging herself.
“Blythe, catch!”
She turned and I tossed her the keys. Blythe always had great hand-eye coordination, even better than mine, and she caught them easily and let herself inside. I wanted to go in there with her so bad. To cuddle up on the couch with her and put on a sappy movie and get her a great, big bowl of ice cream. But I had to take care of those kids, and get Jake the Snake out of here. Out of our lives.
“Nice work, Jake. We’re happy here. Blythe is happy here. She moved on, and then you just had to butt into it.”
He threw up his hands. “It was just a friendly visit. I didn’t think it would be like that.”
“She loved you,” I hissed. “She really loved you.”
“Well, we can’t help who we love.”
Do you still love Mitzi? Part of me was dying to know. But I couldn’t let him know that. He might think I still cared, that I still loved him.
I said, “But we can help what we do to the people who love us, can’t we?”
“Look, I didn’t come here to fight, Brenna. I really didn’t.”
“Then you’d better leave. We have kids in there. Kids who are counting on us.”
“No problem. I can help with the kids.”
“No problem? You are a problem! And you being here, in our space, that’s an even bigger problem!”
“I feel really bad that it went down like this. Let me make it right. Let me help you out until Blythe calms down.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near those kids.”
“Okay. I’ll just go try to talk her down, then.”
“Or my sister! Don’t you dare come near my sister again.”
“Fine.”
Finally, Jake looked a little miffed. It wasn’t near as good as apologetic, but it sure beat acting like everything was okay, or that everything could be okay.
I went back inside and bolted the dojo door shut. The kids all looked up at me with wide eyes. They were sitting in a circle on the mat, with their gi tops and belts, which I always had them take off for snack time, back on. The snack table was cleared off and wiped down, and twelve pairs of slippers were lined up at the mat’s edge.
Sammi and Katie quickly got up and came to the edge of the mat. “We were playing Telephone,” Sammi said.
“Because it’s quiet and calm,” Katie added.
“Oh.” That was all I could get out, because there was a lump in my throat. How thoughtful of them to come up with Telephone, the game where they sat in a circle and whispered a phrase from one person to the other. The kids looked so concerned, and I knew in my heart it wasn’t for themselves, it was for me and Blythe. I hated Jake for coming here and causing such a commotion. I hated it that the kids had been scared, even a little bit. But that look in their eyes—especially Sammi and Katie’s…
We love you, it said. Jake had made me question everything I ever thought about love. He’d made me wonder if it was even real, and if I’d ever know real love when I saw it. But the love of these girls was real. I slipped my arms around both of them and pulled them in for a hug.
“Thank you, girls,” I said. “I’m glad I can count on you.” Before I could release them, a dozen pairs of bare feet pounded toward me. In seconds, I was covered with a blanket of kids. The last few tried to jump on top, and we toppled over into one big pile, laughing and shoving and rolling around. I caught a glimpse out the front windows, of Jake in his rental car driving away. I hoped that was the last I’d see of Jake for a very long time.
Of course, what had started as a hug on the mat evolved into judo, as anything on a judo mat tends to do. I eventually called a stop to the melee and split the kids into two groups by size for one of their favorite games, the circle drill. In each of the two circles, the kids grabbed the judo gi lapels of the people next to them and tried to get them to fall down, using only foot-sweeps. Anyone who let go, dropped to a knee, or fell down, was out of the circle, until only one person per circle remained standing—Champion of the Circle.
I watched the kids, having a great time just being kids, and I thought about Blythe. I quietly left the mat, picked up my phone, and texted her. But before she replied, the lock turned on the back door and she came in, keys in hand, looking just as put together as ever.
I gave her a hug. “Come and be with the kids,” I whispered. “It’ll make you feel better. They love you, Blythe.”
“I know.” She smiled. “Maybe we should get in on this.” She eyed the circle of bigger kids mischievously.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll keep order.”
There were good-natured squeals of protest against Sensei Blythe entering their contest. Of course, she came out victorious. It was so good to see the smile back on her face. Jake still affected her—deeply.
And she doesn’t even know the half of it. The thought sent a pang of anxiety through me. Some day, I had to tell her. Or did I? I shrugged off the debate I’d had with myself so many times. That I’d lost sleep over so many nights. One thing I knew for sure, now wasn’t the time. She wasn’t ready. I could worry about it later. Always later, that little voice inside me nagged. Shut up, I told it. What’s so bad about later?
11
I rapped on Will’s door. I heard Chloe scuttle across the entryway, nails clicking on the hardwood floors, barking happily.
“Come in!” Will called from the kitchen.
I let myself in and gave Chloe the attention she demanded. I found Will in the kitchen, standing in the open refrigerator door. “Ready for second dinner?” he said.
“Yes! What are we having?”
“Steak, of course.”
Will’s specialty. Okay, just about the only non-breakfast main course he knew how to make from scratch. If the two of us ever got married, we were really going to have to expand our cooking repertoire. Wait…did I just think that? Married? The thought did
give me a happy little bundle of butterflies in my heart. I wanted to be married someday, to have kids of my own. But thinking about being married to a specific person, bound to them for life—wow, that scared me like nothing else. It didn’t before. Before I discovered just how wrong I could be about a person. A person I’d known half my life.
Will shook a bulk-sized bottle of steak rub vigorously over two generous portions. “You look tired.”
“Thanks.” I took an onion from the bag on the counter. “Not as tired as you look.”
“I’m fresh as a daisy, as always.”
“Ha.”
“You know why I’m tired. But what’s going on with you?”
I began peeling the onion. Will would want it caramelized. Well, I wanted it caramelized, anyway. I could already taste the browned butter. “Blythe’s ex showed up today,” I said.
“Oh. He came all the way from Arizona? How was that?” Will said cautiously.
I’d never told Will about Jake. Not even about Blythe and Jake. All he knew was that he was her ex-husband and my former coach, and that she’d divorced him shortly before coming here. Looking at Will, realizing he didn’t even know for sure whether Blythe seeing Jake today was a good thing or a bad thing, I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of the messy pile of my baggage Will was completely in the dark about. How much of who Blythe and I were was tied to Jake and everything that had gone along with him for the last decade? Could a person really know either one of us, without knowing that?
“Brenna?” he prompted.
“It was a little…”
“Awkward?”
“It was awful. Blythe was really moving on, but…”
“But she invited him out here?”
I laughed dryly. “No way. He just dropped by. A very Jake thing to do. But I didn’t think it would happen as long as we were a couple of states away. Maybe we should’ve moved to Maine. Or Instanbul.”