Final Mend

by Angela Smith

  Jake shrugged as he eyed her. “No worries. No need for them anyway.”

  She smiled a brittle smile, and didn’t approach him as she dashed into the laundry room and came out wearing her jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, and a T-shirt. He halted her progress to the bedroom and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Are you in a hurry?” he asked.

  “Not particularly.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  She barely looked at him, and he could tell she was lying when she said, “Yes. Everything’s great.”

  Jake scowled and dropped his hands, stepping away. “No, it isn’t.”

  He went to the kitchen for his post-workout protein drink. Grabbed the blender, threw in his protein powder, milk, and banana, and dumped in ice. When he turned it on, the grinding drowned out the noises in his head. Winona stood aside, hopping from one foot to the other, watching him.

  If she didn’t want to tell him what was wrong, fine. And maybe that was what worked about their relationship. He didn’t push, and she didn’t press.

  • • •

  Winona didn’t want to tell him. She’d wanted to wait until after dinner. Or a swim. Or a fuck. Something to lighten his mood. But then, he’d been in a good mood when he came home. She was acting crazy, and he’d sensed it immediately. She hadn’t been able to mask her fears, her worries, her concerns, her frown.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” she asked.

  Jake’s shoulders stiffened as he finished his smoothie and set the glass down. He stood ramrod straight and glared at her with eyes the color of a fervent thunderstorm, then trudged to the couch.

  She sat beside him and clasped his hands. “Sorry, I never meant to worry you.”

  His gaze grew filmy as he continued to stare at her. He shrugged and glanced away. “Well, you did.”

  She hadn’t started this well. Not at all. But how else could she tell him his cousin’s murderer had been found?

  He’d changed since he’d spent that day with Amy. He had grown into that charismatic man she’d seen on his videos when he’d been filmed at his triathlete meets and commercials and appearances he made. Loving life, living life, and laughing at life. They’d had so much fun together, and she didn’t want that to change.

  She knew he still grieved Brandon’s death. Knew he worried relentlessly about Amy and couldn’t wait for her visit. Knew he planned to leave after Amy’s visit.

  Winona sighed and, not knowing how else to broach the subject, plunged right into it. “They arrested a suspect in Brandon’s death.”

  Unflinching, he pinned her with a hard stare. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak.

  “His name is Matthew Carter. He’s been breaking into houses in the neighborhood, and Brandon just happened to be home the day it happened.”

  Breathless, she watched as a myriad of emotions rippled across his face. He remained as still as a tree on a stagnant day, his only movement a wrinkle of his forehead as if a storm brewed across his features. Then his jaw clenched. He blinked slowly. She saw complacency, and finally something akin to acceptance.

  “Amy was in her room. She never saw or heard what happened. But when he went to her room and found her playing, he kidnapped her.”

  Her breathing slogged through the silence. His breath was voiceless, toneless, as if he’d decided to give up and stop taking in air. She realized his acceptance was only a mask of defeat, and now his face held no emotion.

  “Does he match the police sketch?” He might be able to shield his feelings from his face, but not from his raspy and desperate voice.

  “They called Amy in to see if she could identify him, but she denied she knew him. The police sketch was vague. You could match that sketch. Carter admitted to everything except killing Brandon and kidnapping Amy.”

  “He admitted to everything?”

  “He admitted to the burglaries. Not to murder.”

  “That’s because he didn’t do it.”

  • • •

  Jake couldn’t sleep. Winona had tried to comfort him with lovemaking, and he’d selfishly taken from her. Once she’d fallen asleep, he’d risen and come into the living room, where he’d flipped through the channels in search of something to watch and take his mind off the day’s events. When Brandon’s face had flashed across the screen, he stopped.

  “There has been an arrest today in last week’s murder of famed sports manager Brandon Inman. The suspect, Matthew Carter, is also under investigation for a string of robberies in Inman’s neighborhood. Inman, manager for a myriad of sports celebrities, including his triathlete cousin Jacob Inman, was found murdered in his home.”

  A picture of the suspect stalled on screen. Ash lodged in Jake’s gut when he saw the man who’d allegedly killed his cousin.

  He’d refused to check his phone for news. He’d wanted to get a good night’s sleep before deciding if he wanted to read what the news said or see any pictures they might print. But his curiosity was too strong to stop watching.

  He still wasn’t convinced this Matthew guy killed his cousin.

  Jake couldn’t put his finger on the reasons why he continued to suspect Lillian was involved. Maybe it was because he knew what type of person Lillian was and all his suspicious would come to fruition. Or maybe—God help him—he wanted it to be Lillian. She’d go to prison for the rest of her life, and he could fight for Amy and give her the life she deserved.

  He pressed rewind on the remote and paused the TV on the suspect’s picture. Studying him, he tried to see something that would reveal the truth. He looked like scum, but not much different than Jake in his drug-and-alcohol days. He was young, had probably grown up without a real home, or maybe his parents had died as Jake’s had and he had no one else to turn to. Exactly the type of guy Brandon would have tried to help when they volunteered at shelters and drug programs.

  No matter. If he had, in fact, killed Brandon, he’d wish he were dead when Jake finished pummeling his face into the ground.

  “Everything okay?”

  Jake jumped at the sound of Winona’s voice and quickly shut off the television. He didn’t want to be caught watching the news, with the screen paused on the picture of the man he was supposed to hate. The man he would hate if he didn’t still believe Lillian was involved.

  “Yes.”

  “What were you watching?”

  “TV. I couldn’t sleep. But I was just about to come back to bed.”

  “Oh?” She settled into the couch beside him.

  He rubbed a hand across his face. “Fine. I was watching the news.”

  She grabbed his foot and massaged his heels and calves. “It’s okay to watch the news. You don’t have to feel guilty for watching the news.”

  “I don’t. I just feel guilty for wanting to kill the man on the news.”

  “Matthew Carter?”

  “Yep. And I feel guilty for still not believing he did it.”

  • • •

  Jake and Winona spent the next two weeks making love like crazy, sightseeing like tourists, and sleeping late like teenagers. He helped her at the animal shelter, and Chayton understood she would be taking time off from Air Dog, indefinitely. They’d gone four-wheeling, bike riding, hang-gliding, and motorcycling.

  Neither discussed their future plans, only what activities they would do with Amy once she arrived. It was like a long vacation, one Jake hadn’t had in centuries.

  Jake remained convinced Matthew Carter did not kill his cousin, and Winona kept in contact with the police force to learn he would be held until trial.

  If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall in love with this woman. She was so good to him. Good heart. Good in bed. Non-judging. How could he think she wasn’t worthy?

  He wasn’t worthy. He may have succeeded in life, but he would always be a recovering addict. Nothing could change that, and he began to fear he was trading one addiction for another. He’d traded drugs and alcohol for his sport, but what happened if he lost
his sport?

  He continued to run, continued to bike, continued to swim, and continued to push himself past the limits a normal overachiever would push. When NBC kept calling to schedule an interview with him, he finally accepted. Better to go to them before they came to him.

  He flip-flopped between asking Winona to come with him, and traveling by himself. If Winona went with him, she could keep him preoccupied and out of trouble. God knew he didn’t need to accuse Lillian on live television. But he also felt he was getting too close to her, afraid his addictive personality might latch on too tightly to her and if their relationship ended, he’d be ruined.

  You don’t give yourself enough credit. It was like Brandon stood beside him, whispering in his ear. Urging him, like he always had, to stop beating himself up over small failures.

  He chose to go to New York without Winona, and spent the next three days on radio and television. He didn’t have enough time or energy to drink even if the temptation did strike, which it didn’t. He talked to Winona every night, falling asleep with the sound of her voice in his ear.

  His mission in life had always been to be a good influence on others, and that was what he strived to do on his interviews.

  • • •

  As Winona watched the interviews of Jake throughout the next few days, her heart broke. Jake was meant to be noticed, not live in the small town of Tanyon, Montana, and swim every day in the small pool at her condominium complex.

  Not that Tanyon didn’t offer an array of activities, including slopeside lakes they had lounged in all day, and Jeeping through deep valleys with colors mimicking a crayon box.

  The night he was on Live Prime Exclusive, Naomi came over and they popped popcorn. They curled up beside each other on Winona’s couch, and Chayton joined them later with a large bowl of ice cream and three spoons.

  “That man is sexy when he wants to be,” Chayton said, creating an uproar of laughter among the two women.

  “I knew you had a man-crush on him,” Winona accused.

  “What’s not to admire about him?” Chayton licked his spoon and dove in for more chocolate. “I mean, look at his hair.”

  “Oh, babe,” Naomi said, stroking Chayton’s hair that stretched to his neck. “You have the world’s most perfect hair.”

  He pointed his spoon at the television. “No, that man has the world’s most perfect hair.”

  They giggled again and watched as the show displayed a video of Jake carving through the water. Then it flashed to a video of football before returning to Jake.

  “So you were going to be a big football player at one time?” Greg Oatman asked Jake, shocking Winona into discovering she didn’t know much about the man she was falling for. “What happened?”

  Jake shifted in his seat but didn’t take his eye from his host. Although Greg was funny when he wanted to be, he was known for asking tough questions. Winona’s hand stalled in the popcorn bowl as she anticipated Jake’s response.

  “Oh, you know, the usual. I hurt my knee.”

  “Then you were going to be a football coach. What happened with that?”

  Jake smiled. “Oh, you know. The usual. My parents were killed in a car crash. I got addicted to drugs and alcohol.”

  The audience stilled, then laughed at his candor.

  “And it was your cousin, Brandon, who pulled you out of that, was it not?”

  Jake continued to grin and nodded, but Winona didn’t miss the shadow cross his face.

  “And what are you doing now?”

  The television converged on his features and she glimpsed his act. He stared into the camera one moment and Winona imagined the whole world, breathless and waiting for his response.

  The camera panned out. His left ankle was crossed over his right knee. He rested one hand on his ankle and the other on his knee, and shrugged. “Well, now I’m just taking it day by day.”

  “You canceled your meets.”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about that.”

  “What’s there to say?”

  “Why? After all these years? The man who changed your life. Brandon, your manager. Why would you cancel something so important to you when you needed it the most?”

  Winona noticed he gripped his ankle tighter, but his smile at the camera never wavered.

  “Sometimes you come to a point in your life where you realize the important things in your life aren’t as important as you thought they were.”

  Bewilderment crossed Greg’s face, not because he was at a loss for words, but because he hadn’t expected Jake’s admission.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Jake continued. “What I do is my life. It’s very important to me. But I’ve realized there are other things worth breathing for.”

  Winona’s heartbeat surged. She knew he didn’t mean her, but she hoped the admission meant she mattered, at least for now.

  Greg asked a few more questions, and they chatted amiably back and forth. Naomi started to say something, and Chayton silenced her with a “Shh.”

  “Are you single, Jake?”

  “I’m seeing someone pretty special right now.”

  The world exploded inside Winona’s head. Special. She was special. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Shouldn’t she be there beside him? Or at least in the audience, waiting for him? If she were special and all that, he would have asked her to go with him. When he hadn’t asked, she hadn’t pressed it.

  They talked more about Brandon and his murder, and when Greg asked his next question, Winona gasped. “Do you believe Matthew Carter killed your cousin?” Jake hesitated. “I trust the cops to do their jobs. I trust the district attorney to do his job.”

  “That was no answer.”

  Jake shrugged. “I can’t be a judge and jury on live television, sir.”

  • • •

  Jake called her that night, and they had their usual petite-sized talk that didn’t venture into any deep subjects about themselves. He talked about New York, his radio and television hosts, and black limousines.

  “I never knew you wanted to be a football player,” Winona said when the conversation continued to trickle into a bottomless chasm that made them learn nothing about each other except everyday life occurrences.

  “Oh, you know, I was in college on a football scholarship. My dad was heavy into football and loved every moment of it.”

  “What about you? Did you love it?”

  “Sure. I was good at it. At that time, it was all I really knew. I had the good life and a good home and never really experienced tragedy. I’ve always been an overachiever. I wanted everything life had to offer. I had a football scholarship and might’ve become a famous football player one day if I didn’t become a doctor like my dad. But by golly, if I could do it all, I’d do it all.”

  “And you hurt your knee?”

  A breathless silence followed her question. She knew his parents had been killed, but she didn’t know the details.

  “I hurt my knee the day my parents were killed in a car crash. They were heading to my game. It was the playoffs, but they were running late because my dad had to stay at the hospital and deliver a baby. I often wonder if the time that burly football player struck me and cracked my knee happened at the same time that driver swerved into my dad’s lane and struck them.

  “My knee killed me, but not more than my conscience. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but that knowledge didn’t help my guilt. I couldn’t stop my dad from coming to my game if I’d wanted to, but I’d never experienced tragedy of that nature. Doctors gave me pain pills to kill my knee pain, and I had to rehabilitate myself as I grieved my parents. Alcohol dulled the pain, and the pills became stronger until finally, I was addicted to more than just pills. That went on for years. When Brandon managed to pull me out of my stupor, I turned to swimming. Swimming helped my knee rehabilitation, and now you’d never know I’d ever been injured.”

  A lengthy silence followed. Winona hesitated. She didn’t want to be too hasty in s
peaking, but she didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said.

  “Oh. For a minute there I thought I had put you to sleep.”

  Winona giggled and rolled her eyes. She flipped to her back and stared at the ceiling. How did Jake go from this one extreme to the other?

  “Speaking of sleep, how many viewers do you think I put to sleep tonight?”

  “Your interview was perfect. And Chayton finally admitted he has a man-crush on you.”

  “Damn, I miss that boy.”

  “Oh, he misses you, too. He was eating chocolate and giggling like a little girl. Even shushed Naomi when she tried to talk over your show.”

  “How dare she talk over my show?”

  “I bet he’s having special dreams about you tonight,” Winona teased.

  “Woman. Don’t talk about your brother that way.”

  “I can’t help it. I think Naomi and I are jealous over your relationship with each other.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “What’s to say? He’s special. I spent years searching for him, you know that. And at first, he hated me.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. He hated me, too.”

  “Well, he’s in love with you now.”

  She continued to talk. He listened, asked questions, promised her some bike riding when he returned to Tanyon. She held the phone to her ear, pressing end when she finally heard him snore. But her phone rang again and jolted her awake.

  “You hung up me.”

  “You were snoring.”

  “I don’t snore.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Winona chuckled after a few minutes when she heard him snoring again, but she didn’t hang up this time. She knew he must be tired with all the interviewing and personal questions, having to relive his life and past mistakes. She was glad he’d fallen asleep with her on the other end of the phone and not at some wild and crazy party, which she assumed he’d been invited to. She lay there with her phone on speaker and listened to him snore, imagining a future without promises until soon, she fell asleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You need to get over to Reagan’s house now.”