Even the mention of that makes my chest ache. It’s true, I lost a teammate to suicide, but more importantly, he was a friend. A good friend.
“I think it’s important that we involve you since you were around when he killed himself. Anyone else who was here at the time would be good to have there, too.”
I nod, though I’m a little burned by the way she’s saying it so nonchalantly, as though losing someone to suicide is a business proposition. “His name is Jason. As for him killing himself … that phrase isn’t appropriate. In my opinion, it oversimplifies something that people aren’t seeing. The disease that caused it.”
Amber lifts her head, looking directly into my eyes. “What?”
“The player who died. He didn’t kill himself,” I use her words, “because he didn’t like the breakfast menu that day. He suffered from a disease. His name is Jason Arrends. And he’s not merely a random casualty, so I’d appreciate if you don’t talk about him as though he is.”
Okay, so maybe Amber didn’t deserve that, but I get defensive when it comes to my friends.
“He suffered from mental illness,” I continue. “And he died because of it. This is a benefit that helps bring awareness to this disease.”
Her eyes soften before she drops her gaze back to the papers in front of her. I can tell she didn’t mean anything negative, so I sort of feel like an ass. But Jason was a friend of mine, and when he died, a piece of me went with him.
When Amber doesn’t say anything, I pick up where we left off before I sidetracked us. “Other than me, Rush is the only one who was here at the time. Seguine came in shortly after.”
“Okay. Well…” Amber meets my gaze again. “Since the dinner takes place on October twenty-ninth, which is two weeks from now, it’s safe to say that’s a good place for Kingston to be seen with Ellie.”
Again, I leash my frustration. She’s using this as an opportunity. It shouldn’t burn me, but it does.
“And I assume you’ll have a date?”
Rather than go on a rampage about all the ways we could make this benefit work, I sigh.
I’m not sure if she’s fishing for information, but regardless, I’m going to bring a date. Who? I have no fucking clue. “Yes. I will.”
Another nod is all Amber offers.
“I think it’ll be good if you give a speech.”
My eyes widen and my heart starts pounding in my chest. The mere mention of getting up in front of people is enough to suffocate me.
“Mia will talk about her father, of course. Maybe you could say a few words about Jason.”
I nod. Not because I agree but because I can’t let this woman know how fucking hard this is going to be.
I’m capable, even if I’m terrified.
Noelle
I STARE AT MY SISTER, who is sitting across the bar from me. I’m surprised to see her, no lie. Although she comes in from time to time, it’s usually only on game nights. Since the first game of the season isn’t for a few more days, I’m a little curious as to what she’s after.
And I know she wants something. I can see it in the way she tries to pretend she doesn’t have a mouthful of words burning her tongue, desperate to spit them out.
I’m bored, so I ask, “What in the world are you doing here?”
“Lunch,” Julie says sweetly. “Why else would I be here?”
“To give me a hard time?” I ask, mocking my sister’s sugary tone.
“Well, that’s a given.” My sister grins. “So? Any word from the universe?”
I glance around, praying no one is within earshot. No one who knows me personally anyway. I’m lucky because Ellie won’t be coming in until later. She rambled off an excuse about having to go to the rink to talk to Spencer and Amber about this whole ruse with Kingston. I’ve been doing my best not to think about Spencer and Amber since last night. It’s crazy, I know.
“Shut up,” I mutter, pasting on a plastic smile. “What can I get you?”
“Where’s Ellie?” she asks, searching the place with her inquisitive gaze.
“She’s hanging out with her boyfriend.”
Julie’s eyes go wide. “Who? Tell me?”
I grin. I know it’s not public record yet, but I figure if I give Julie a little nibble, she’ll probably forget all about hassling me. For a little while, anyway.
“Kingston.”
With her mouth hanging open, Julie stares at me. “Mount Rushmore? Are you freaking serious?”
I nod. “The one and only.”
“Holy crap. It’s about time.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. So, I’m definitely not the only one who has noticed.
“Yep.”
“Does that mean you might need some help around here?”
Glancing around, I notice the customers who are beginning to fill the seats. We are getting busier now that the season is under way. I figure we’ll be at capacity on game night.
Julie obviously doesn’t need me to answer. “I’d be more than happy to fill in. Even if it’s temporary.”
I stare at my sister in confusion. “I thought you were helping out your friend. At her daycare.”
A heavy sigh accompanies my sister’s pained look.
Uh-oh. “Spill it, kid.” I reach down for a glass beneath the bar, watching her closely.
“It’s driving me crazy. I know I shouldn’t say that because she’s been so nice to me. To tell you the truth, I don’t mind first graders, but the two-year-olds…” Julie grabs her head with both hands. “I’m not sure I can take much more. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. I need a break, but I hate to let her down, although I know she has more help than she needs right now.”
“But I thought you were working on your degree?”
Julie drops her head into her hand. “I dropped out. It’s not what I want to do anyway.”
“What do you want to do?” I know she doesn’t want to work in food service forever, no matter what she says.
“Photography,” she blurts.
My eyes widen. That’s the first I’ve heard of that.
“I know, I know. It probably sounds crazy, but I’ve always wanted to do it, but I didn’t figure it would ever pay the bills, so I went the safe route.”
Safe? My sister thinks a room full of first graders is safe? Pfft.
“Please,” Julie continues. “You know I’m capable.”
So my sister wants to wait tables, huh?
Ellie and I have asked Julie to help out plenty of times before. She’s extremely reliable and really good with the customers. I know she’d be a tremendous asset, especially since Ellie is going to be away quite a bit. Even without her pretend-dating Kingston, Ellie never misses an Arrows home game, so we’ll be understaffed if I don’t fill in for her. Quite frankly, I don’t mind working, but I can’t commit to every single night. That would be insane.
“You’re right,” I tell her.
“About what?”
“Us needing help.” The hopeful expression on my sister’s face makes me smile. “One of the waitresses quit last week. We’re down one body, so … I’m willing to put you on the payroll, under one condition.”
Julie cocks her head to the side, a small grin forming. “I have to promise not to say anything else about your pretend boyfriend.”
I roll my eyes but then nod. “Exactly. If anyone finds out…”
“You don’t have to finish that statement. I’d love to fill in.”
“I can start you full time for a while. I’ll need you to hostess, wait tables, and probably bartend.” Lord knows I can’t make drinks to save my life. Ellie is the bartender, and when she’s not here, one of the waitresses usually fills in for her. It so happens, that’s the waitress who quit on me, so Julie is a godsend. The most I can do is pour beer and wine, which, thankfully is
most of what we serve.
“Anything you want,” Julie says, a slight squeal of excitement tinging her words. “Do you need to talk to Ellie?”
I shake my head as I grab a tray, loading it with the three mugs I just filled. “Nope. She loves surprises.”
Julie snorts a laugh. “Right. Kind of like her finding out she was pregnant after her twenty-first birthday in Las Vegas.”
Exactly. “But you’re not a surprise baby. She’ll be fine. I’ll tell her about it the next time I see her.”
“When do you want me to start?”
I push the tray toward her. “Right now would be great. And if Ellie asks, just tell her I called you and asked.” Not that it will really matter either way.
Julie claps her hands together. “This is great.”
“One thing…” And it’s a big one.
Her eyebrows lift in question.
“Do not mess with the hockey players.” I only say this because I know how they react to her. Julie turns heads. She’s squeaky clean and so damn innocent. I can’t stand the thought of one of them hurting her.
“I won’t, I promise.”
I don’t think she gets it. “They’re not the commitment type, Jules. They’ll fill you with promises and fulfill none of them. Keep your distance. They’re going to flirt with you. That’s a given. Just don’t let it go too far.”
“Of course not.” She looks sincere.
“Good.” I grin widely. “Now get to work. No sitting around on the job.”
My sister’s clear blue eyes sparkle, and it makes me feel good to see her so happy. It’s the little things, sometimes.
Amber
BY THE TIME I GET home, I’m exhausted. It’s been an incredibly long day, and I want nothing more than to slip into a hot bath, have a glass of wine, and relax until some of the tension eases from my muscles.
Instead, I have to call my father because he has left me two voice mails already today. I know what he wants to talk about—or rather who—and I’m not up for it. Talking about the past is mentally draining. I understand the mistakes I made. Hell, I’m making up for them every second of every day.
It was bad enough that I had to meet with Spencer today. For some godawful reason, I turned into a condescending bitch. As though I have any right to look down my nose at Spencer’s sister. What was I thinking? If I continue to insert my foot into my mouth every time I speak to the guy, I’m not sure how we’ll accomplish anything this season.
Honestly, I don’t have an agenda when it comes to him. I’m not interested in trying to win him back, or even getting on his good side. Sure, I owe him an apology, but I sense that if I try to give him that now, he’ll only get more defensive. Then again, I’m on edge myself, so maybe I should lead with that. Then, perhaps, we’ll be able to have a civil working relationship because he’ll know where I stand. It’s almost as though he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I know how that feels.
After changing into yoga pants and a sweatshirt, I return to the kitchen with the intention of making something for dinner. Before I can accomplish that, my cell phone rings. I glance at the counter where it sits, trying not to feel anxious when I see my father’s number pop up on the screen.
“Hey, Dad,” I greet cheerfully.
“Hey, honey. How was your day?”
“Great,” I say as I open the refrigerator and look for something to eat. I have what I need to make a salad, but that doesn’t sound at all appealing.
“Did you see Spencer today?”
Sighing, I resign myself to having this conversation with my father. It could be worse.
“I did.”
“And how did it go? Is he giving you a hard time?”
“No, of course not.” My father has been worried sick ever since I told him that I was taking a job with the Arrows. Although he says he’s glad to have me close to home once again, he’s not keen on the idea of me having to deal with Spencer.
We both know that has nothing to do with how Spencer treated me years ago. The guy was good to me. As good as any high school jock whose sole focus was on his sport could be anyway. Everyone knew I was important to Spencer back then, but hockey was more important. Based on how far he’s come, it still is the most important thing to him, and I can’t say that I blame him.
“Has he acknowledged you?”
“Of course.” Although he hasn’t really. I get the sense that Spencer is dealing with me, but he’s purposely ignoring our past.
And again, I don’t blame him. I think it’s the best way for us to handle things. What we shared was back in high school. Young love and all that jazz. We were kids at the time. I know I’m certainly not the same girl I was back then, and I don’t want Spencer to think I am.
“We’ve talked and I’ll actually be working with him this season. They’ve put me in charge of the foundation, and Spencer will be the face.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? I’m not sure the two of you should be working close together. That boy wasn’t at all happy when the two of you split up.”
Of course he wasn’t, but that was due to how I’d handled it. I know that I had my reasons at the time, but since I’ve never shared those with anyone, I look like the bad guy.
And I’m okay with that.
My father takes a deep breath. “Honey, after all you’ve been through…”
“It’s okay, Dad,” I assure him. And it will be, of that I have no doubt.
In the same sense, I know my father is being overly protective because of what I’ve been through. Although I took the job in Texas because it offers me the ability to move forward in my career, there are other reasons I came home. Bigger reasons. Reasons that I absolutely don’t care to even think about right now.
“Do you need me to have a chat with him? Spencer?”
I laugh because the notion is ludicrous. “Dad!”
“What?” I hear him chuckle. “I will. You know that, right? No man is going to give my little girl a hard time.” His voice is lower when he adds, “Not ever again.”
I hate the sadness in my dad’s tone. I know he hates that he wasn’t able to help me when I needed it most. But it isn’t his fault. I didn’t ask for help. I hid what was going on between me and my ex-husband from everyone I know.
“It’s fine,” I assure him. “Spencer’s a good guy. And we’re working together, nothing more. You have nothing to worry about.”
He’s silent for a moment and I wonder what he’s thinking. I walk over to the pantry and pull out a can of soup. It’ll have to do for tonight because I’m too lazy to put something together.
“Well, if you need anything, you know we’re here.”
“I do know that. Tell Mom I love her.”
“I will. Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
Placing the phone on the counter, I get to work opening my soup, pouring it into a bowl, and popping it into the microwave. The ninety seconds have barely begun to count down when my phone rings again.
I knew I should’ve talked to my mother. She was probably waiting by my dad’s side. Grinning, I grab the phone and hit the talk button.
“I told you, I’m fine,” I say with a chuckle.
“God, it’s good to hear your voice.”
My entire body goes rigid. My heart starts slamming against my ribs. “Will.”
“How are you, baby? I miss you. I’m so glad you answered.”
I swallow past the dryness in my throat. I need to hang up the phone. I know to be more careful.
“I want to come see you, Amber. I hate that you left me.”
“I divorced you,” I clarify. “Two years ago. I didn’t leave you.”
His tone hardens. “I begged you to stay, Amber. That should’ve been enough.”
I know not to argue. It’s p
ointless with him. Will Daughtery doesn’t listen to me. He never has.
“When’s a good time, baby? We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. Look, I really have to go.”
“Don’t hang up on me, Amber.” His tone holds a hint of menace. I know it’s only going to spiral out of control from here.
In an effort to appease him, I keep my voice calm. “Let me think about it, Will. I need some time.”
I’m met with silence, but I know it won’t last long. He’s probably taking a deep breath, calming himself down. He’ll be sugary sweet to me until he morphs completely into the monster I know him to be.
“I’ve got some time off coming up, baby. I’ve already booked a flight to Texas. I want to see you.” He laughs, as though it all makes sense. “You know me. I can’t live without you. I’m going to win you back; you should know that up front. Just give me some time. I’ll prove it to you.”
Bile rises in my throat. I know what he means when he says that and it isn’t pleasant. Basically, he’s telling me I don’t have a choice.
“I really have to go.” My voice breaks as I speak, fear curling deep inside me.
“Okay, baby. I love you, Amber. I miss you so damn much. I’ll call you later.”
I stab the end button and throw the phone onto the counter. I stare at it like it’s a gruesome spider needing to be squashed. I can’t deal with Will right now. I don’t want to even think about him. I came back to Texas to get away from him and his abuse.
The microwave dings and I jump, a startled squeal echoing in the room. My heart is racing and my hands are sweating.
I wish I had someone I could call. Someone who could talk me off the ledge during moments like this.
I used to have that. Now, I have no one. And sometimes I feel the loneliness in my bones.
As it is, I’ve spent the last couple of days wondering what might’ve been, how my life might’ve been completely different if not for the decisions I made as a self-centered teenager. I can’t change the past, and I know thinking about it isn’t productive. I have moved on with my life, and I’ve got the opportunity to start over here, away from my ex and all his bullshit.
Kaufman: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 2) Page 7