by R. A. Lee
A picture of the happy family that Brooke had on her nightstand appeared with the dates of Matthew’s life and death. He was a very young man who had left a young family.
Jake realized that he was only five years older than Matthew was when he died and if he left the world, he wondered who would put a video together for him.
Brooke was cradling a star-covered shoebox. She was just touching the rocks and figurines inside.
Pulling out a figurine of an ugly, hairy troll, Brooke turned it around, made its hair fluff. Holding it tightly in her grasp, she closed her eyes.
“Just looking at this, just holding it,” she said, fighting for her words, “I can tell you everything that happened when Matthew gave this to me. He was wearing jeans and a purple shirt, his hair too long, his sneakers dirty, he didn’t know they could be washed in the machine, he came over and just handed me this. We were barely dating at the time, and he came over and handed me this. Said he was out and about and saw this, that it reminded him of a trip we had taken. He’s so proud and I took it, said it was ugly, but in a nice way, and put it on my dresser.”
Opening her eyes, Brooke held up the troll, whose fur was now crushed tight against his body.
Placing it back in the box, she pulled out a rock.
Holding it tight in her hand, she told Jake about the day he gave her the rock.
“We’re on the beach,” she remembered. “It’s a beautiful blue day, one that doesn’t look like it’s going to end. He’s wearing swim trunks, and I’m in shorts and a halter-top. We’re walking along the water. He picks up a rock and hands it to me. It has silver flecks. We hold hands.”
Opening her eyes again, she sighed and put the rock back in the box.
“How did it happen?” Jake asked as he took the remote from her tight grip. Brooke conceded and Jake powered off the machine.
Melinda had already told Jake what had happened, but he wanted to hear it from Brooke.
“He was on a business trip and slipped on ice,” she whispered.
Jake understood the extent of her horror. A senseless accident. All her reality ripped away in the blink of an eye.
“I can never understand your pain,” he said, not trying to console the inconsolable.
“In movies, you know when something bad is going to happen,” she said. “In real life, it happens and time just moves on. The second hand just keeps going. Every second I wonder, is this going to be the last time I see the second hand move? Is this going to be the last time? This second, this second, this second. I keep waiting to evaporate and melt into the universe until I no longer feel anything, I’m just part of everything.”
Brooke looked over at her son.
“But I can’t,” she whispered and cleared her throat. “I still have our son. Everything that we were is in him. But I have to look into his eyes and all I see is a reflection of his father. How do I put him behind me? He’s always with me, with us.”
Brooke took a deep breath and a groan escaped.
“If I can get him to 18,” she confided. “Happy and healthy and able to be on his own, then I can melt away. But I see what that does to a person. My mother kept slipping back and now she can’t even function. I have to put our life behind me, but not our love.”
Looking up into his eyes, Brooke had a plan.
“Jake, do me a favor,” she whispered, afraid of her own words. “Take that disc and hide it. I never want to see it again. Someday you’ll give it to MJ, but I can’t go back there again.”
Nodding, Jake rose and tried to see the machine, but he could only see the blinking lights. Not wanting to turn on the lights, he reached behind the hot machine and pulled out all the plugs. Pulling the machine away from the dresser, Jake took it to his room to hide the video another time.
When he came back downstairs, Brooke had placed MJ in his bed and was closing his door. Dressed in a robe, her hair tangled and sticking in the air, Brooke glanced at Jake with eyes that looked as if they had been in a fight, and then went back to her room.
Jake went to the kitchen and his mother was still there.
“You can go home now,” he said and his mother let go of her coffee cup and stood.
Before she left, his mother held onto the door and turned back to thank him.
“I’m glad you were here,” she said gratefully and pulled the door closed.
Sitting, Jake took a deep breath and let out all the tension from his chest and deep within his gut.
What would have happened if I had come home when I was expected? he wondered.
Would Brooke have played it until he got back? Would his mother have told her to stop watching the video? What did MJ think about watching a video of a father he barely knew?
Jake went to bed that night after he plugged the player in place of his own machine and took out the disc.
Placing it in his safe hidden in the wall of his closet, along with gold bars and other investments, Jake promised himself he wouldn’t disclose the location to Brooke.
The next morning, MJ was up and cheerfully eating cereal while Brooke was standing over the sink still in her robe, and she had only patted down her mangled hair.
“Do you want to go to the park today?” he asked MJ.
“Can I, mom!” he begged as he hopped off the stool. Brooke nodded and MJ ran to his room to get dressed.
Jake sat at the island.
“Don’t spoil him, Jake,” she sighed. Turning, she faced Jake and had the same look she always did when she needed Jake to be the father figure for MJ, even though it was disdainful for her.
“See if he’s alright about the whole thing,” she said vaguely, but Jake knew what she meant. It was one of the reasons he wanted to take MJ to the park. Her son needed perspective from an impartial parent.
“Promise me you’ll do something for yourself today,” Jake said, looking at the tired woman. “Promise me you’ll go to the spa or whatever women do when they have a day to themselves. I don’t want you back before dinner,” he said, not warning her or threatening her, just urging her to step back and regroup.
Brooke sighed and agreed.
The door flew open and MJ was there with his glove and ball already out of breath with the prospect of playing catch.
“Ready?” Jake asked the eager kid.
Nodding his head emphatically, MJ raced to the door.
“Can we have ice cream?” he asked, looking to Jake and Brooke.
Brooke nodded.
“Have fun,” she said and MJ headed outside.
Jake followed behind, and only caught a glimpse of Brooke slumping against the counter, her hands covering her face as she sobbed.
Jake hoped she took his advice.
Holding his hand, Jake walked MJ to the park and played catch, and when Jake got tired, MJ ran to the playground and played with the other kids.
The kids heard the ice cream truck before the adults, and a wave of youngsters followed the sound to the sidewalk.
“Jake,” a woman said and he recognized her from church and HOA gatherings. “It’s a surprise to see you here.”
Standing to meet MJ at the truck, Jake smiled and shook her hand.
“I have to get ice cream,” he said trailing off because it felt foreign to say “for my kid” or “my son.” The video the night before showed him just how far he was from being a father.
“How sweet,” she said following. “My Carl is over there.”
Jake nodded.
“We don’t see you or your wife at HOA meetings,” she said, but it felt more like an admonishment. No older than Brooke, the well-dressed, professional looking woman seemed so poised or pushy, Jake wasn’t sure.
“I work in the city,” he said. Handing MJ some money, Jake stood back and just made sure he was safe. Buying an iced treat way too big for the boy to finish, MJ ran off with his friends.
Jake headed back to his bench and the woman followed. He still didn’t know her name. He didn’t care either.
&n
bsp; “We’re having a fund-raiser to raise money for new playground equipment,” she said. “I am hoping you both can be there.”
The woman smiled but Jake didn’t think she wanted them to come just to raise money. Jake and his new wife were a novelty and the HOA members wanted to see what all the fuss was about. His family helped develop the area and the prodigal son, a longtime bachelor, now had a wife and kid.
Curiosity drove the invitation.
“I don’t know my schedule,” he said, watching MJ still playing and the ice cream dripping down his hands and covering his face.
Jake had not prepared to clean off the mess and he could already feel sticky ice cream on his hands.
“I’ll send you an invite,” she volunteered and said good-bye. “Hope to see you there!”
Jake sighed and waved, imitating her insincere gesture.
The mothers started gathering their children and Jake called MJ back.
“I’m hungry!” he said breathlessly, his sticky hands on Jake’s sweatpants.
“You are,” he said, trying to match his enthusiasm. Nodding his head emphatically, MJ put his sticky hand in Jake’s hand and they headed back to the house. Washing MJ’s hands and face while the kid tried everything to avoid being cleaned up, Jake realized he knew nothing about kids.
Grabbing his keys, they headed to a restaurant and Jake talked MJ into ordering actual food and not dessert.
“Your mother will give you dessert later,” he promised.
Ordering a hamburger from the pirate menu, MJ sat back. He had a hard day and it was only early afternoon.
Jake was exhausted, and he ran three miles every day.
While they ate, Jake brought up the subject of the funeral video without freaking the kid out and learned that MJ was very observant.
“I don’t like it cause it makes my mom sad,” he said between a mouthful of burger.
“Does it make you sad?” Jake asked as if talking about the weather.
Thinking carefully while chewing and chewing and chewing, MJ swallowed and took a long drink of soda that mostly made it in his mouth. Jake figured it was a good time for an auto detail, and didn’t worry about the mess the soda was going to make on his leather seats.
“I’m sad because she’s sad,” he said. “She misses my daddy, I guess.”
“Do you miss your daddy?” he asked.
Eyes darting around looking at everything, MJ wasn’t sure.
“I don’t remember him,” he said. Leaning forward, pointing to his eyes, MJ beamed. “She says I have his eyes. Do you think I have his eyes?”
Jake wasn’t a sentimental man, he didn’t cry, ever, but looking into the boy’s eager eyes he noticed they looked exactly like his dead father’s eyes. Every time Brooke looked at her son, she saw her husband. Jake understood her pain.
“They look exactly like your father’s eyes,” Jake said and his voice cracked. “Exactly.” Applauding, MJ smiled and sat back trying to look at his own eyes.
The waitress showed up and asked if they wanted dessert. As MJ sat up with pleading eyes that looked just like his father’s, Jake couldn’t keep his promise to not spoil the kid.
“Whatever he wants,” Jake said, realizing he would be a lousy father.
…
When Brooke got home, she was ready to take over. Making dinner, Brooke told Jake he had done a good job. Exhausted, Jake went to bed and didn’t wake up until he heard a knock on the door.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Come down for dinner,” Brooke said through the door. Jake looked at his clock and noted that it was after 8 p.m. He had slept for four hours.
Massaging his face, Jake changed his sweats to another pair and headed down for dinner.
In the kitchen, Brooke had set two places. She had already fed MJ and put him to bed. Placing a plate in front of him, she asked what he wanted to drink.
When Jake asked for a soda, Brooke laughed.
“I think we need something stronger,” she said. When she pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, Jake was both pleased and alarmed.
Jake really did need a drink, but did Brooke? Was this a new thing for her or was she a secret alcoholic?
Sensing his panic, Brooke sat down and admonished him with her eyes.
“I’m not taking up drinking,” she said. “It was a gift from some HOA lady who stopped by to give me an invitation and welcome gift.”
“Probably the same woman who invited me at the park,” Jake confided.
Jake opened the bottle and let it breathe before pouring two glasses.
“She just wants to get details on us,” Brooke observed. “We’re not part of their group and they’re curious.”
Jake wasn’t sure if that meant Brooke was suggesting they go to the fund-raiser.
“What did you say,” he asked.
“I said we’d think about it, but that you have a busy schedule,” she shrugged and tasted the wine. “It’s alright.”
Jake tolerated it, but it was only average.
Staring at Jake, Brooke waited for him to talk about his day with her son.
“Have I completely messed up my son with my issues?” she finally asked. Jake finished his meal and wiped his face. Taking a drink of the tolerable wine, he put the glass down and considered his words. Brooke waited patiently.
“Your son is sad that you are sad,” Jake said simply. Brooke’s mouth quivered and a tear dropped suddenly from nowhere.
Lowering her head, she caught her breath and sighed.
Looking back at Jake she smiled through gritted teeth.
“I guess I better get happy,” she choked out and closed her eyes in pain.
“There are support groups and counseling…” he tried to suggest, but she shook her head.
“I went to those,” she said. “Hearing that assessment, it puts it all in perspective.”
“You can’t just get happy,” he insisted.
Brooke opened her eyes and sighed again.
“I can get closer,” she said and took their plates away. “By the way, did you see my toes?” she asked, wiggling them through her slippers.
Cute red toes peeked from beneath the cotton slippers and Jake smiled.
“Very cute,” he said.
“We might have to go to that HOA meeting fund-raiser thing,” she said, scraping the plates.
Jake had no desire to go, but he knew it might be beneficial to keep the busy bodies away from their home.
“You’ll have to laugh and be charming,” he joked and Brooke growled.
“I think I have one night in me,” she said. “I’ll need new shoes,” she joked.
Anything she wanted.
“You RSVP,” he said, getting up to leave. “Be prepared for a million questions and catty looks.”
Brooke didn’t respond and he realized she had other things on her mind. As he was leaving, she finally heard him.
“Sounds good,” she said.
Chapter 11
Sitting in the living room dressed in a light beige suit, Jake waited for Brooke.
In the kitchen, she was giving instructions to her son for being good for his grandmother.
Soon, she was ready and he stood.
Looking nice but not overdressed, Brooke was ready.
“I had no desire to be compared to Jenny,” she said as they headed to the car.
Jake was puzzled.
“The last time I was at a party the women all noted that I wasn’t Jenny,” she explained. “That implied she was the opposite of me. Glamorous, sophisticated.”
Jake didn’t respond. They were right, but she wasn’t Jenny because she wasn’t Jenny. She was Brooke. Jake couldn’t compare the two women in his life because he was in love with one of them.
The parking lot of the banquet hall was almost full, but Jake found a spot. As he helped Brooke out of the car, HOA members walked by and greeted them. Brooke squeezed his hand.
Leading her to the event, he noticed fu
rtive glances and outright pointing.
The lady from the park, ‘Jan’ according to her nametag, was thrilled that they showed up. She personally escorted them to their table near the front of the room where a lectern was set up. A dance floor was set up between the lectern and the tables. A few older couples were slow dancing to soft music that came from speakers around the room.
Auction items were on the perimeter of the room. Thanking her, Brooke decided to look at the items. Jake headed to the bar.
“Jake,” a man Jake knew from his daily runs said and they shook hands.
Ordering a glass of wine, Jake stood off to the side to talk.
“I see you brought your wife,” he said, pointing to Brooke. “All the women have been talking about meeting her. Wondering how she got you to settle down. Been trying to get you guys since Christmas.”
Jake glared at the man.
“Just preparing you,” he said, drinking his beer.
“Thank you,” Jake said. Brooke hadn’t been paranoid.
The music faded and Jan announced dinner would be served then they would have an auction. Jake heard people pointing and whispering at him.
Sitting, Brooke joined him smiling, ready to sell their happy relationship to all the members.
“See anything you like,” he asked, leaning into her. The older woman next to him seemed interested in having a conversation.
“I would like to bid on a few things if that’s alright,” she said and Jake nodded. “I’ll tell you which ones and you can control the bidding.”
Agreeing, Jake had to acknowledge the woman next to him.
“Jake? Jake Parker?” she asked. Jake recognized his mother’s friend from church.
“Hello,” he said, not remembering her name.
“We saw you at church for Christmas,” she said. “Is this your lovely wife?”
Brooke squeezed his hand.