Players

by Rachel Cross

  Keila let her mom fold her into a hug and she found so much comfort in that embrace, she began to feel the tight rein she held over her thoughts and feelings give way.

  “I don’t know what it is he does to me, but from the moment I laid eyes on him, I’ve been asking myself ‘what if’? What if that guy over there and I danced, what if I let him hold me in his arms? How would that feel? Next thing I knew we were dancing and being held by him felt so amazing, it was scary.”

  “It certainly looked amazing,” Graciela chuckled softly, smoothing her daughter’s hair.

  “And then after that night I’d catch myself wondering, what if I hadn’t walked away? What if I had stayed and danced with him under the rain? And it was fun to imagine us dancing close and reveling in those feelings because I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.

  “But then I did see him again, and I got really stupid and wondered things like what if I got to know him, and what if he kissed me, and then I’d tamp it all down because I knew it would be too incredible, you know?”

  Graciela sighed, “Oh, I know.”

  “And, well, now I’m so lost, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, maybe you should allow yourself one more what if. What if you let go of your fears over what might happen and you let yourself live in the moment? You can’t control the future, hija, and you can’t control other people or their feelings, but you can control your fears, and you can control your own reactions to whatever the future brings. You are not me, Keila. And you are not your sister.”

  • • •

  Jake arrived at his aunt’s palatial, lake front residence on the North Shore in the midst of a thunderstorm, and braced himself for the trying evening ahead. Thankfully, he was first received by Melissa; a luscious blonde beauty and the discreet daughter of an old family friend. Her suggestive glances and light touches always had the ability to hold him captive with the promise of a good time after family affairs.

  Out of habit, Jake smiled back and leaned in to whisper some innuendo in her ear before realizing he had nothing to say; nothing to promise. Certain moments of his unearthly weekend with Keila invaded his thoughts and, just like that, the woman before him held no magic. This astounded him.

  Looking back, he realized he hadn’t even glanced at another woman since Keila had stepped into his campaign headquarters and back into his life. Every lustful thought from that moment on had involved Keila.

  Keila, who’d thought so little of him, she’d accused him of using her to get votes.

  Disappointed in him and determined to regain his sense of self, Jake forced himself to come up with some decadent allusion. Melissa smiled and whispered back. Satisfied, he turned away from her, for the time being anyway, and was promptly met with his mother’s disapproving glance.

  “What are you up to?” She came up to him a second later in a cloud of expensive perfume, perfectly coifed hair, and suspicion.

  “Nothing. I’m here to make nice and leave as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t do anything that has even the slightest chance of ruining your future, Jake Kelly,” his mother warned; her voice as stern as he’d never heard it.

  “My candidacy is in the crapper. Don’t worry about it.”

  “That’s not the future I’m talking about,” she said. “If I were talking about your candidacy, which I’m not, I’d tell you it was at its best when people thought you were with Keila, the fact that you had fallen for someone as real as Keila said good things about you, Jake, and it made people feel like they could get to know you.”

  Jake ran his hand through his hair and down his face, his patience hanging by a thread. “It was rumor, not fact—I haven’t fallen for anyone. People have chosen to judge me based on all the wrong issues; Keila never had anything to do with it. So please don’t mention her to me again.”

  “Fine, I won’t mention her, I’ll only say that if you want to throw it all away over a pair of tits, that’s your prerogative.”

  Stunned into silence, Jake looked around to make sure no one had heard his mother.

  “That’s right, I said tits, and I don’t care. I’ve been prim and proper my whole life and what did that get me? A whole lot of heartache and an emotionally warped son who doesn’t care if he never gives his mother grandchildren and the redemptive golden years that will come with them!” His mother stormed off after hissing and ranting at him.

  It occurred to him that this was the second time that day that someone had told him that people just wanted to get to know him. What was it they wanted to know? His whole plan was out there, transparent and in the open.

  • • •

  Christmas Day arrived with a big, loud, happy mess of family and Mexican, Puerto Rican, and American traditions at the Diaz home. Her mom, still celebrating that Keila was back home and finding success, had both sides of the family over for dinner. Over banter, music, and food, it was hard not to get caught up in the high, festive spirit.

  Even Chris, Mia’s dad, had come. Apparently he ditched his daughter when invited, but showed up when he wasn’t expected. At the moment he was horsing and playing around with Mia as if he were father of the year. Mia’s gleeful, animated squeals made everyone smile, even Tania, who always found strength to welcome Chris and behave civilly in Mia’s presence.

  But at a certain point, when everyone had eaten and the noise and party atmosphere began to wind down, thoughts could no longer be avoided.

  Somewhere in Keila’s heart, she was feeling guilty, angry, and hurt all at once. The last couple of weeks had been brutal to Jake and, after every appearance, explanation and press release regarding his scandal; he was still down in opinion polls.

  Keila was still struggling between feeling like Jake had played her for a fool or thinking that maybe Jake was the one who was being played and misunderstood by the world, especially by her.

  After Julia’s visit, she couldn’t help and remember, on a basic level, moments that seemed to show Jake cared for her. But she was torn between the Jake in some of her memories, and the Jake who appeared in television, newspapers, and other memories; the handsome but aloof stranger.

  As Keila watched Chris saying goodbye to Mia, she caught him shooting a long, unhappy, regretful glance at Tania. It was obvious Chris loved her sister as much as he was capable of. Different people were capable of varying sums of love. It was just in Graciela and Tania’s nature to love deeply and hurt deeply. And Keila wasn’t sure she wanted to find out how deeply she could love or how deeply she could hurt.

  The next morning, however, none of what had kept Keila up most of the night seem to matter anymore.

  An early morning phone call informed her that the world was forever changed for both Cate and Jake, and all she could think of was the fact that she loved them both, no matter what type or sum of love it was, and how much she would give to ease their pain.

  Filip died in his sleep.

  The wake would be held for just one day. Keila arrived on her own, unsure of her ability to speak comfort. As soon as she saw Cate, though, she knew words weren’t necessary. A simple, heartfelt embrace and her hand were what her friend needed. They sat down, Cate spoke softly, tears falling, and Keila listened.

  Keila learned Cate had been the one to find Filip early in the morning, that it had been extremely upsetting and unsettling, but that she was concentrating on the time they’d spent together as a family the night before. She also learned that a shocked, grief-stricken Jake had been the very first visitor, but he’d soon left, afraid the media would turn up and make the day into a circus for the Nowak family.

  Keila looked toward the casket. A picture of Filip and his wife, Alana, on their wedding day, sat on one side. On the other, a picture of the last family portrait before Alana died, with children and grandchildren all surrounding the still happy couple, a reminder that so much of Filip and Alana lived on.

  It was hard to keep her thoughts from wondering to her own father’s wake and funeral. H
er father had simply been alive, then gone. Ripped away and taken too soon. There had been misery and despair and anger because it wasn’t his time. But inside all of that pain, there had been love, too. Love for a great man who would never be forgotten.

  • • •

  The day of Filip’s funeral was especially cold. Keila, along with Robbie and her family, arrived at Mt. Olive Cemetery behind the procession. Jake, who had been a pallbearer, was now standing apart from the crowd and her heart ached at how palpable his grief was. Though he was standing straight, while his mother, who, just as dignified, held on to his arm, his bearing was heavy and strained. He was wearing sunglasses, though the sky was grey and full of dark clouds, and he was too pale.

  The kids from the youth centers turned up in force, and they stood around Jake, as if forming a protective barrier.

  Filip’s family gathered around the open grave as the casket was lowered, and a few cries and muddled sobs filled the air. As anguished family members huddled around each other, Keila looked away, not wanting to bear witness to such grief or intrude on that final moment.

  Afterwards, people began to press forward, to offer their final condolences to the family, but Keila couldn’t find Cate.

  Instead, she saw Jake, standing alone, his hands in his pocket, his head down, and she felt her very soul reaching out to him.

  Anxious but compelled, Keila walked over to him and stood in front of him for a moment, unsure. When he looked up, she hesitantly got up on her tiptoes and hugged him, whispering how sorry she was in his ear. Just as she was about to let him go, Jake pulled her tightly to him and hugged her back with a fierceness that made the tears she’d been holding back begin to flow. She’d been feeling as if she had no right to cry. However much she loved Filip, she felt it was the people he was closest to who had the right to suffer. But her tears now were for Jake’s loss and his pain.

  His deep voice broken and filled with concern, Jake unexpectedly remarked, “You’ve lost weight, Keila. Are you doing okay?” Jake was, at that moment, raw, and his emotions unbidden. That at such a moment he would worry about her . . .

  “I’m, um . . . No, I don’t think so,” she cleared her throat, pulling away. “Please take care of yourself, Jake,” she squeezed his hands hard, wanting to convey how worried she was about him, too.

  “You, too,” he said, softly this time, letting her go.

  Feeling heavy, Keila left to find Cate.

  • • •

  Jake hadn’t been able to watch as the casket was lowered, hadn’t wanted that to be his final memory. Instead, he’d always hold on to that last hug on Christmas Eve and his friend’s parting words. They made Jake understand that Filip was where he wanted to be, with his wife again.

  Now, as he’d looked out at everyone, he remembered how different his own father’s funeral had been. There had been two awkward sides. His mother, who had been his wife for twenty-eight years, Jake, and close friends and family on one side, sober and distant; and his new wife, sobbing uncontrollably and, well, unbelievably, obviously trying to keep attention on herself at all times, on the other side. It had been uncomfortable, to say the least.

  Filip’s family was united in both their pain and their celebration of his life. Filip and Alana, just two people, bound forever by a devoted and affectionate extended family whose existence made the world a better place.

  The sound of a few cries reached him, and Jake tried to withdraw deeper into his thoughts, to think about what his own legacy would be. He’d started down that road while speaking to Filip on Christmas Eve and hadn’t gotten far. But before he could go there, Keila was standing before him. Her touch, her words, her feelings soothed him as nothing else had and he held her as close as he possibly could, wishing she wouldn’t leave him.

  She felt thinner than the last time he’d held her, and he didn’t like thinking of her as frail. Protective instincts took over and he expressed his concern. But she withdrew from him then, and it pained him that, despite her concern, they weren’t on good terms.

  On a deeper level he couldn’t control, he knew there was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to go away with Keila again and just be. Lately, it was all he could think about. It was why he’d ultimately turned Melissa down on Christmas Eve and it was why an undercurrent of fear had been running through him as of late.

  “It’s so hard to let go,” Jake heard Shane, a boy who often played chess with Filip at the Pilsen center, say behind him.

  Jake was sure of just one thing; in order to move forward he had to let go of something. He just wasn’t sure what, but he knew he’d better figure it out. He wanted to see Filip on the other side when his own days came to an end and that meant he needed to become a better man.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” Jake said.

  “You’ll do it,” Tyrone repeated, his voice full of doubt.

  “You’ll do it?” Cate’s hand went to her heart, and for the first time in days, excitement crept into her voice.

  “He’ll do it!” A teenage girl yelled out.

  “No way, Jake!” A few of the boys shot back, disgusted.

  “It was Filip’s last piece of advice,” Jake explained.

  A long silence filled the air. It was New Year’s Eve and Tyrone, Cate, and Jake were over at the Youth Center for their annual New Year’s Eve brunch.

  They’d agreed to talk about anything but politics, but that became impossible because that morning the interior decorator had finally surfaced.

  Except instead of issuing an honest, outright denial, she was playing coy, no doubt pumping her fifteen minutes of fame for all they were worth. Jake guessed her business probably wasn’t doing very well. “Let’s just say I got to know every room in his house very well,” was among the ridiculous statements the woman had made, when in reality she’d never gotten past the living room because he hadn’t liked her ideas for that room at all. But no matter, Jake’s opponents were lapping her whole act up, practically commending the woman for trying to protect him.

  Cate pounded her fist and grabbed Jake’s attention. “You know? I’ve been thinking a little too much lately, and I’ve realized there are very few things I know for sure. One of them is that Grandpa Filip would not want us to endlessly mope around, trying to get things done. Look at our plates, we haven’t even eaten!”

  Jake shuffled his feet under the table and managed a smile. “He’d be pretty exasperated with us.”

  “Yeah. Jake finally decides to go on She Said, She Said, and we can’t get our butts off our chairs to make the call,” Tyrone agreed.

  Tyrone and Cate looked at each other, one moment nodding their heads in agreement, the next moment scraping their chairs as they scrambled to get up and get a move on.

  “Go across the street and find that contract they emailed you a while back, I’ll make the call,” Cate instructed.

  A second later, Cate was in the hallway, Tyrone was gone, and Jake sat in the noisy room.

  He picked up the Tribune and flipped to the page with their latest poll numbers and was first surprised, and then disgusted to see his numbers had inched up. Political analysts were quoted as saying it was the “mourning factor.” The public knew Filip had been like a father to Jake, and he had now garnered their sympathy. Score a few votes for him because he’d lost somebody he loved. It just didn’t make sense to him.

  Yesterday, he was six points behind, which was still a great disadvantage in political terms, and still a difficult setback to recover from. And these numbers were before the decorator’s comments had hit the stands.

  Jake threw the paper down, and made a real effort to try and understand the voting public. They just wanted to get to know him, both his mother and Filip had said. He breathed hard, trying to get it.

  Jake got up, walked to the window, and gazed outside. The steps in front of Chicago Youth Project were empty; it was too cold for any of the kids to be outside.

  People just wanted
to get to know him, he again thought. When they’d seen him jumping from one vapid socialite to the next, they’d thought him out of touch.

  When they’d thought he was with smart, spirited Keila, they’d felt there was more substance to him, and they’d felt a connection.

  When they’d learned he’d lost someone he’d loved, they were reminded of his deep friendship with someone they could look up to as well, and they’d felt for him.

  It dawned on him that, though he still stubbornly thought the public should pay more attention to his plans than to his personal life, on a certain level they had always been right.

  Hadn’t Cate told him time and time again that most people couldn’t relate to him as a distant, aloof, socialite-toting playboy?

  They did, however, relate to the type of man who could fall for a hard-working, talented, and opinionated woman, and they could relate to a man who could forge a deep, meaningful friendship with a wise, generous elderly man.

  And wasn’t that who he really was? The guy who had fallen hard for Keila and the guy who’d loved Filip like a father?

  “Hey Jake, this says—” Tyrone pointed at the contract and began to speak, but Jake put his hand up and interrupted him.

  “Wait a second, I think I’m having one of those epiphanies all those profound people talk about,” he said. Tyrone put his hands up and laughed.

  Jake sat down on the window sill. So all along, the people of Chicago had been trying to tell him to open up, and they’d responded each time he inadvertently had. It was all too confusing. People really did just want to know him. Leading, apparently, was about more than having a great plan.

  Cate walked in then, her eyes bright and Jake finally smiled because Cate was back, just as Filip would want her to be. “They’re beyond excited to have you on, Jake, and they’re even moving things around because they want you on today! It’s their highest rated show every year because they give a bunch of stuff away to viewers. They think having you on as a guest on the last day of the year will be icing on the cake because, you know, they’ve been teasing you about coming on all year long. But they have to know now; they need to add you to the promos now. What’s it going to be?”