“Deacon! Mason! Caden!” Avery calls us from the stands. She points to the dugout, and we meet her there. The fence separates us, but I still see the tears. The fear in her eyes.
“Is Julie okay?”
“Yes. It’s Mr. Winchester.” She squeezes her eyes. “He is missing. An explosion on base, and it’s been nine hours. They’ve pulled some bodies, but they haven’t been identified.”
“What do we do?” Caden is torn. His loyalty is his honor, and the fact Emberlee did what she did. It’s the hardest for him to come to terms with.
“We do what we always do. We support each other. It sucks considering none of us are speaking to her, but we know it has to be done.” Mason is the voice of reason for the first time in his life.
“You have me more confused than a blind man at a silent movie, but whatevs.” Avery is too kindhearted for this group. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
“Do we need to pick her up?” I need to call my parents.
“No. Saylor took her to Eastborough. Our parents are there, and your mom said Julie is fine.” Avery starts walking to the parking lot.
“We’ll be there in five, Avery.” We won’t change. We won’t shower. We will find Coach, explain, and all come together to support the one who hasn’t been very supportive of me. I don’t know how I feel, but I know there is nowhere else I would be.
Somber.
Apprehension.
Stifling fear.
It swirls in the air, and it’s all I can sense as I step into the house that’s so familiar to me. Caden goes to Emberlee’s side as I hang back. Mason goes to the kitchen, and Avery distracts herself by going to Julie. I take it all in and wonder where it went wrong. Where did we get off track? How’d we ignore the signs that Emberlee was lost?
I see her, and I freeze. As she’s serving coffee and snacks to everyone, I feel bereft. Lost that I’m not at her side.
Everything disappears.
Everything but her.
I take her in and hold my hand against my heart to make sure it’s beating. The familiar ache is there, not from fear of the situation but from breaking. It’s still working, pushing blood to my body, and not allowing me to escape this moment. Still through all the pain she caused, I can’t look away. I can’t help but crave the object of my pain. She disintegrated me, and I want to permit her to put the pieces together. Make me whole.
“Any word?” I ask my dad when I reach his side.
“No. It’s a waiting game.”
“Deacon,” Emberlee’s strained voice beckons me. “Can we talk for a minute?” I want to deny her. I should deny her, but I can’t. I lead her to the kitchen, and as she breaks down, I hold her. I comfort her, and for a brief moment, she comforts me. The girl who was my family isn’t callous, isn’t as inhumane as she’d have us believe.
“Shhh,” I rock her in my arms and wish this situation wasn’t happening.
“I lied. I lied to everyone. I heard you in Colorado forbidding them to tell Saylor the truth.” Her words are hurried, as if she needs to rush and confess the manipulation she’s arranged. “I’ve pretended to talk to Adriane while Saylor listened.” The knot in the pit of my stomach grows. “I made her believe y’all were back together. I let her hear all the lies. I told her Julie said Mama, and it was Adriane she said it to.” Oh, God. My hands grip her shirt, and I push her back. Staring in her eyes, I see regret. I see fear. I see a girl that would never have done this to me. Yet, she did.
I swallow. “Now’s not the time. We’re here for you.” I sound like a robot. I feel mechanical. One foot in front of the other, walking from the bomb she admitted to detonating. I walk into the catalyst of my desire.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is as tiny as her body. She’s fucking sorry. That’s what I get after two damn months of silence. Oh, I did get a ‘hey’ one day. But, she’s fucking sorry.
“Not now. It doesn’t change anything.” The phone rings. The shouting in relief begins. The situation is defused, and it’s time for me to get the fuck out of here.
“Please. I was wrong.” Her pleading halts me. I pleaded with her, and she still hauled ass.
“It doesn’t fix things. You made bullshit assumptions without hearing me. You left. You didn’t call. You didn’t fucking care. I watch my daughter search for you every night when I sit down to feed her. I see her eyes searching strangers in the street to catch a glimpse of the green and gold we fell in love with. I live with regret every single day that I allowed you to force me to break a promise to her. I gave you that power, so now I’m taking it away.”
“I know. I was wrong. I want to make it up to you. I want you. I want Julie. I want us, and I want to prove it to you.”
“Your wants aren’t my concern anymore.” I walk into the garage, needing to put distance between us. My hands itch to touch her. My lips tingle to taste her. My heart opens to wanting her in it.
My mind . . . my mind won’t quit reminding me what she did. What she’s capable of. I hear the door slam, and I watch her walk to her car. Typical Saylor, leaving as usual. I join the rest of them in the living room, awaiting the return of Mr. Winchester. The explosion trapped him and a few crew members in a room, and there was no way to reach anyone. He lost a few men, but he’s unscathed.
“Deacon,” Caden calls me from the garage. “Come help me.” I hand Julie to my mom, appreciating the reprieve.
“What’s up?” He’s staring through the blinds, watching the front lawn.
“I heard everything you said to her. I watched her absorb your words. Now, you look at this and tell me is this the girl you want to give up?” He moves to the side, and I see Saylor pointing her finger at Mr. Winchester’s chest, toe to toe with a man who towers over her, giving him a piece of her mind.
“What the hell?”
“Apparently that girl is telling him where he’s gone wrong in parenting. Informing him his daughter needs him, and he needs to clue in before she’s gone . . . for good. She’s defending the girl who put her through hell. Who single-handedly broke you two up. You know why? Because that’s who she is. Think about that, Deacon.” He leaves me to watch this little firecracker in action. I can’t hear her words, but I can read her mannerisms, and as much shit as I’ve done, Mason has said . . . I’ve never seen her so worked up. I see her swipe tears. His mouth drops open. She pokes him again. He steps back. She follows. He hangs his head in shame. She continues her tirade. He holds his hands up in surrender. She doesn’t relent.
Finally, she sidesteps him and is at her car door. He stands staring at her and back to the house. His strides are quick, and as he reaches her, he hugs her. I watch as Mr. Winchester bends his large form down, wrapping Saylor in his arms. His shoulders shake, her hand soothes. He holds tight. She returns his embrace. She smiles and wipes his face while sternly pointing to his front door.
She leaves before I can get my ass in gear and stop her. I hurry to the living room wanting to pack Julie up and follow her. Instead, I witness Emberlee being loved by her father. He takes two steps in the house and seeks her out. Dropping everything in his hands, he beelines for his daughter and picks her up, holding her.
Her tears soak his shirt, her sobs pierce his eardrum, but he just holds on. Something I should have done with Saylor. The fear I had of Julie feeling the rejection of Adriane has been a reality for Saylor and she’s amazing. She’s persevered whether she knows it or not. The pain I was protecting Julie from is what Saylor experienced – and I’m culpable as much as anyone.
We didn’t get to leave as early as I wanted. I endured many apologies from Lee Lee. All of us did. I’m not sure we are ready to forgive and forget, but we are willing to let her try to redeem herself. What she did was out of line . . . unforgiveable to most. But, that wasn’t the Emberlee we grew up with. That wasn’t the Emberlee we loved. It’s up to her to find that girl and remember who she is. It is up to her to rebuild our trust. She knows it, and I see the determination in her eyes.
/> Thankfully, it’s Thursday, and I don’t have class Fridays, neither does Saylor, and it’s when I’ll find her and fix this. I’ll beg her for forgiveness and pray she grants it. My little lady needs a bath and bed, and we all need our emotions to come down from the high of this day.
You know what they say about the best-laid plans? I should have listened. In my haste to protect Julie from Saylor, I neglected to honor my promise to her. I’d told her I would protect her. I’d told her there was enough me to support them both. In the end, I failed them both.
Making decisions while bordering on emotional overload isn’t the smartest thing. So I find myself heading to the airport for an impromptu trip home to handle some business. I have one shot at this. The phone call from Mason brought me clarity.
“Shortstop, don’t focus on his words. Focus on why he said them. He’s hurt. Which means he cares.” Yeah, I see where he’s coming from, but tell my heart and head to get on the same fucking page. Right now they’re not even reading the same book. One is a murder thriller and the other is unwritten . . . so I’m grabbing the proverbial pen and writing that bitch in marker. Happily Ever After here I come. Table for two, please. Well three, but until Julie can graduate from baby food, I don’t think she needs a reservation.
“I don’t know what to do, Mason.” I’m confused. I apologized, and I wasn’t naïve enough to think it would fix everything, but I expected it to be a start. Open the door. I’d like to blame him for being stubborn. I want the anger he feels to fuel me. I was duped by all of them, and he’s forgetting that. In the end, I know the blame is mine. He proved to me repeatedly that I was who he wanted. He pleaded for a chance, and if I’m honest with myself I had one foot out the door the entire time. My heart was fully invested, but my instinct, my gut reaction, was waiting for a chance to run.
“You get up to bat and hit a grand slam, Shortstop. You swing for the stars and hit it outta the park.”
“What?” I switch him to hands-free because traffic is picking up.
“Baseball metaphor, Saylor. Do you know anything?”
“I know somebody ruined a perfectly good asshole by putting teeth in your mouth. How many points do I get for a grand slam thingy?”
“Holy fuck woman have you watched a baseball game? Ever?”
“Nope. How many goals do you need to win?”
“I can’t. You wound me.” I laugh because I can hear the shock and exhaustion in his voice. “Tonight, come to the game. Make an ass out of yourself. Put the spotlight on yourself, and he’ll see you coming out of your comfort zone for him.” I ponder his idea, and it hits me.
“Not tonight. Give me a few days.” I launch into my diabolical plan, and I’ve made him speechless. That is a miracle in itself.
I don’t flinch as I hand over my credit card. Not a panic attack when she has to upgrade me to first class because of ‘late booking.’ I don’t bat an eye when I settle in my seat and realize I have no clothes, no plans to execute what needs to be done . . . but I do make one phone call.
“Jack, I need your help.” Explaining I explain as best I can without giving him too much information. The explanation is reserved for Deacon first, and nobody needs to know my plans before I present them to him. True to his word, Jack jumps in and helps formulate a plan.
“You sure, Saylor?” I nod. He can’t see me.
“Yes, Jack.” He has the software and computer skills I need to make this happen in warp speed time. “Call Avery. Mason is handling things back home and gave her a heads up. I sent her some specs, and you have the design technique and can cut the red tape for my other project.”
“Want me to fly your mom to join you on the first leg of your trip?”
“No, I’ll see you both this evening. I need to do this. It’s past time.”
“I agree, but you aren’t alone. Your mom and I will be here no matter what.”
“I know.” I suck in a deep breath as the flight attendant shoots me a look, reminding me to end my call. “I love you, Jack.” I hang up without hearing his response but knowing if he feels half of what I feel in my heart, he’s dancing a jig in the living room with my mom.
I wonder if I should call Olivia. So many years have passed I’m sure we’re such different people. I’ll decide after the cemetery. I have limited time, and letting go is my focus.
I give the cab driver the address and don’t feel guilty when he tells me the fare. Money is just paper. Part of this journey is realizing the hold I’ve let it have over me. It’s not security. Sure, it makes things easier, but it won’t keep me warm at night. It won’t put a smile on my face. It won’t fill my heart with love. It won’t fill my home with family.
I follow the walk to his headstone. It’s weird I still remember where he is; I guess some things never leave your memory.
“Dad, I’m sorry. For years I blamed you. I forgot the good. That wasn’t fair to you.” I pause and look around. “Are you happy? I hope you are. I miss you. Every single day. You’ve shaped me more than I think I realized. I know it wasn’t your fault, and that’s helping. I know you loved me, and I’ll always remember that.” I wipe a stray tear and sit down. “Do you remember teaching me to ride my bike? I was so bad at it, but you were there with me day after day. You must have run a hundred miles holding on to my seat because I made you promise you wouldn’t let go.” God, he never let go. Even when he wasn’t healthy and wasn’t seeing me on a regular basis, he still couldn’t let go. “Dad, it’s okay. I forgive you, and I hope you can forgive me. There’s this guy. I kind of love him. I’m scared. I’m scared it’s all going to fall apart because that’s all I know.”
I pick some grass and let my mind wander to all the memories I share with my dad. “It’s not all I know. I know what it was like to be a family, and I know you wouldn’t have left if you didn’t have to. I don’t think Deacon would leave me. He’s chosen me over and over. Each time I pushed him away he allowed me throw my tantrum and waited with open arms to ease my fear. I need to show him I’ll fight for him like you did me. I know you fought your demons those weekends you kept me. It may not have been ideal, but it was all you could offer, so thank you.” I kiss my fingertips and rest them over his name. “You keep teaching me things…even in death.”
Emotions overtake me as I leave the cemetery.
~ family (noun)
a group of people who are related to each other, such as a mother, a father, and their children.
One thing that definition doesn’t stipulate is blood. Family comes in many shapes and forms. DNA doesn’t define the parameters of family, love does. The revelation makes my decision for me. I won’t see Olivia this visit. I don’t blame her. I don’t blame myself. Time and circumstances determined our fate, and at this time, I have more pressing issues to attend to. My priorities have shifted, my goals are on the backburner, and it’s time for my dreams to take flight.
After another flight across the country, I stumble into my mom’s arms at baggage claim. “Mom, I have no luggage.” I need a shower, and I wish I’d thought through jet setting with no clothes. Or toiletries.
“I have some stuff for you at home.” She is studying my face, noting the toll today has taken on me.
“I’m fine. Just tired. I promise you I’m better than I’ve been in awhile.” She squeezes me close as we walk from the terminal into Jack’s waiting SUV.
“All set.” He winks at me.
“You’re the best.” I smile at him.
“And you’re a gift. Thank you.” I share a private moment, knowing he’s reeling from my earlier declaration of love. I watch my mom relax in her seat, smiling in contentment. Full circle. We’ve all come full circle, and tomorrow I hope to tie a knot so tight in the last bond that there will be no escaping it.
Some things should be done in private, in my opinion but according to my friends, this isn’t one of them. The guys had to be at the field early, and that leaves me squirming under scrutiny. Avery, Emberlee, Deacon’s parents .
. . they’re all staring at me while I’m wiping my sweaty palms down my jeans. Julie, she was happy to see me and hasn’t started asking my plans and intentions. Maybe, because she can’t string together complete sentences. I walked in, and her face beamed. Her arms outstretched for me to take her from Sara. Within a few minutes, she was wiggling to get down. “She doesn’t like to be confined.” I laugh at the observation at the same time I’m watching her use the couch for leverage as she stands and grabs for my hand.
“You think you’re a big girl. You better not walk unless your daddy is here.” I chuckle at her and wipe the drool with my finger. “Here goes nothing,” I say to the rest of my crowd.
The shirts turned out perfectly, but the butterflies are rumbling in my stomach. I pull Julie’s over her head and smile. I picked a yellow shirt with black writing for her. A Wichita State University emblem on the front that matches her daddy’s jersey with his number and ‘Mini-Douglas’ on the back. Mine is the opposite in colors, same design, but with ‘Shortstop’ on the back; double meaning. His position and my nickname. I’m tying myself to him, entwining us with simplicity.
I pick up my poster boards, pat my pocket to make sure that folded sheet of paper is secure, and release a breath. “Saylor, you sure you want to do this?” Josh looks at me with compassion. “I know my son isn’t too bright in love, but I do know he loves you. I can’t tell you he’ll come around tonight, but he’ll regret it if he loses you.” I smile.
“Josh, this is my grand slam. My end zone kick.”
“Saylor, you realize there is neither an end zone nor any kicking in baseball.” Sara tries and fails to hold her laughter.
Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) Page 16