by Ashey, Katie
With a nod, he replied, “Anytime.”
Chapter Six: Jonathan
As the football spiraled toward me, I rushed forward, throwing my hands into the air. My fingertips skimmed over the surface before it evaded me, hitting the grass and then bouncing into the parking lot. “Fuck,” I growled as I jogged over to retrieve it.
“You’re off your game today,” Dr. Z remarked from his spot on the green.
“No shit.”
With a teasing wag of his brows, he asked, “Wanna talk about it?”
“You should know the answer to that question.”
“No, you don’t want to talk, but you will sing like a canary because you know I’m the gatekeeper when it comes to football, right?”
“Unfortunately,” I replied, as I shot the ball back to him.
“Well, let’s start with some small talk. How was your weekend?”
I snorted as a reel of my blowup with Presley and my parents played in my mind. “Let’s just say it wasn’t the best.”
Dr. Z winked. “I knew it wasn’t.”
“There you go being psychic again.”
“It’s more that I was able to read your mood.”
Sweeping my hands to my hips, I countered, “You know, when I think about it, I’m not sure how good you actually are reading me. Wouldn’t you say my entire mood is shitty since I’ve ended up benched and here with you?”
“When you left on Thursday, your demeanor was entirely different. There was a part of you that was uplifted.” He shook his head. “Today you’re completely defeated.”
“Okay fine. Maybe you do know your shit.”
“I’d say the countless awards on the wall of my office would concur that fact,” he joked.
Laughing, I said, “Now don’t get cocky.”
“Just acknowledging facts.” He held the ball up in front of him. “Are you ready to do this?”
I rubbed my hands together. “I’m always ready for football.”
“I’m talking about tackling the subject of the day your brother was killed.”
“But I really want to talk about this weekend. I had a blow up with the girl having Jake’s baby. It even got physical—well, at least on her part. I just hurled some really hurtful words at her.”
“Ah. That have anything to do with your face?”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe.”
He blew out a small breath. “While I’m sorry to hear that happened, I want to hear about what you experienced the night your brother died.”
A shudder rippled through me as smoke stung my nose. “I don’t get what that has to do with this weekend.”
Dr. Z pointed the ball at me. “This weekend’s events are merely a branch off the deep root of your issues.”
I rolled my eyes. “There you go with that psychobabble spin.”
“What can I say? It’s a gift.”
“Fine. What do you want to know about that night?”
“Everything.”
Glancing around the green, I watched as people got in and out of their cars or hustled into the medical building. “You want me to unload that heavy shit here?”
“Would you prefer my office?”
Wrinkling my nose, I replied, “Not exactly.”
“I’m sure you don’t want me to tell you that there’s nowhere you will ever find safe enough to tell the story. It’s too raw, and you’re too vulnerable.”
“Just give me the damn ball,” I demanded.
After Dr. Z threw the ball at me, I exhaled a ragged breath. I did not want to talk. But maybe having the ball in my hand would . . . center me. Maybe. But where the fuck do I start? I looked across at Ziegler, who still appeared a little smug.
“This weekend’s events are merely a branch off the deep root of your issues.” Fuck . . .
“It was Jake’s last spring break in high school. Instead of going to the beach with a bunch of buddies like he usually did, he wanted to stay home.” A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “‘Let’s make it low key, bro’,” he had said. So, I’d come home that weekend, and we’d gone up to our grandparents just to hang out together.”
“I believe you told me they lived on a farm.”
“Yeah, they own fifty acres up in Blairsville.” Tilting my head at him, I said, “I’m sure it seems kinda lame for two guys to want to spend their break out in the boonies.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all. I’m sure you had opportunities to occupy your time.” He gave me an amused look. “I can assume the freedom of being in the boonies allowed for ample opportunities to ply yourself with alcohol.”
“You would be right. Well, at least that was the case for me. Jake had given up drinking.”
“Had he previously been a big drinker?”
“Oh yeah. After the football game on Friday nights, he usually spent most of the weekend with a red solo cup glued to his hand.”
Tilting his head, Dr. Ziegler asked, “What prompted his rehabilitation?”
“A girl.”
Dr. Z chuckled. “A siren’s call, eh?”
“While he had his fair share of sirens, Maddie Parker wasn’t what you would consider a siren.” I momentarily deviated from the story of that night to tell Dr. Z the complex story of Jake, Maddie, and the engagement ring that had been left behind.
“How did you feel about Jake’s transformation?”
I blinked at him. The truth was I’d never stopped to ask myself that question. Jake was my brother whether he was drunk or sober. “I don’t know.”
Dr. Z’s brows shot up. “You didn’t have one thought when your brother did a one eighty?”
“It didn’t worry me if that’s what you mean. I was busy with classes and spring practice. I wasn’t home much, and when I was, I didn’t witness it but a few times.”
“Like that weekend?”
“Exactly.”
“Did you rag him about the change?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.” Maybe there were times he pissed me off with the saint-like attitude. Maybe I thought he was just pretending to impress Maddie. Maybe I didn’t like the idea my little brother had more depth of character than I did.
Dr. Z eyed me for a moment before asking, “After spending the weekend at your grandparents, what happened?”
“Late that Sunday afternoon, Jake and I had gone to pack up to go home. We could barely get our shit together for Presley blowing up his phone. Finally, when she wouldn’t leave us alone, Jake asked me to give him some privacy so he could give her a call and get her off his back.”
Intense heat began crawling up my skin—the same heat that had radiated off the tractor during the explosion. Shrugging my shoulders, I tried ridding myself of the feeling, but it didn’t help.
“So, what were you doing while Jake was on the phone?” Dr. Ziegler asked.
I should’ve been taking our stuff out to the car. I should’ve had things ready to leave the minute he got off the phone.
But I didn’t.
And Jake’s dead because I didn’t.
I swallowed the rising bile in my throat. “Uh, while he was on the phone, me and some of our cousins decided to finish up the booze we’d bought. We didn’t have to go deep into the woods to drink this time since our grandparents had gone into town to eat dinner and get groceries.”
“You started drinking even though you knew you were going to be driving soon?”
Yeah, I’m an irresponsible bastard who killed his brother. “I only did it because Jake had given up drinking in the last couple of months. I knew he would be the designated driver.”
“Jake must’ve been on the phone a long time if you thought you were going to be too drunk to drive home.”
“It wasn’t so much that. It was more about how with Tech’s football program, I couldn’t afford to get caught with any alcohol level.”
“I see.”
I ran my fingers over the textured surface of the football. “I don’t know how long Jake was on the phone with Presl
ey, but it was probably an hour before he came outside with the rest of us.”
“Had you been drinking solidly that entire time?”
Shaking my head, I replied, “I’d had a few beers.”
“But you weren’t drunk.”
“No. Not yet.”
“After Jake rejoined you, what happened?”
“He looked like hell. Like his whole demeanor had completely changed since the phone call.”
“Do you know what was said?”
“Presley told him she was pregnant, and he was going to be a father.”
A low whistle came from Dr. Z’s lips. “I’d say that kinda news would have a major effect on him. Especially since he’d bought a ring to propose to the preacher’s daughter.”
“Exactly.”
“What did you say when he told you?”
“That’s just it. He didn’t tell me. I didn’t find out Presley was pregnant until after Jake was dead.”
Dr. Z furrowed his brows. “Jake had just experienced a life-altering phone call, yet he didn’t tell you about it.”
Although I’d never said anything to Noah or anyone else, I’d always wondered the same thing. “I know. I was surprised he didn’t.”
“You’re pissed he didn’t confide in you something so earth shattering.”
“Fuck. No.”
Dr. Z just raised his stupid eyebrow. Was it anger? We hadn’t been as tight since the whole Maddie thing, but had that pissed me off? No.
But why hadn’t he told me about Presley? Why hold that back? Would it have made a difference? But even as I sat here and imagined that conversation, I couldn’t see a different outcome. You wouldn’t have allowed him to hold the gun . . . But he should have told me, dammit. He was my baby brother. He. Should. Have. Told. Me.
“Fine. I’m pissed. Happy?”
“Will it make you feel better to know your feelings are warranted?”
“Not really.”
“I had to try.”
“Anyway, after he came outside, Jake floored me by grabbing a beer.”
“Did you say anything to him?”
“I asked him what he was doing since I’d planned on him being our DD. He told me he wanted to get shit-faced.”
“After his recent transformation, did you think you should argue with him about the drinking?”
I snorted. “Trust me, Doc. Even though I was older than he was, I never told Jake what to do. Once he was hell bent on something, nothing or no one was going to stop him.” As soon as the words left my lips, heat roared over my skin. You could’ve tried harder. You should have tried harder to stop him. If you had, he would still be alive.
“Jonathan?” Dr. Z asked.
“What?”
“Did you go there again?”
With a shudder, I tried shaking the feeling away. “No. I’m still fucking here,” I croaked.
The expression on Dr. Z’s face told me he knew I was bullshitting him. “Fine. You’re right. I went back to that night.”
“We’re on the right path. As long as you feel like you can continue, let’s keep going.”
“I can go on,” I choked out.
“Good. So, what happened after Jake started drinking?”
“I told him we probably should just stay the night and go into school late. I was a little weirded out by how quiet and moody he was being. Totally unlike him.”
As I neared that horrible moment in my story, my heart started accelerating. Sweat broke out along the base of my neck. “One of my cousins started passing around some pistols, and we started shooting at the cans we’d been drinking.”
When I paused to catch my breath, I surveyed Dr. Z’s surprised expression. “Yeah, I know. It was a dumb fucking thing to be doing.”
“I’m afraid I would have to concur. However, I don’t know many young men who haven’t done stupid things while inebriated. Or adults for that matter.” He motioned for me to continue speaking.
“Anyway, Jake was sitting on the tractor away from the rest of us. I don’t know who gave him a pistol or if he got one himself. He started shooting with the rest of us.” The words of the coroner echoed in my ear. A total freak accident that most likely couldn’t be replicated if you tried. “Somehow a bullet ricocheted off the fence and nicked the gas tank on the tractor.”
Boom!
Cupping my hands over my ringing ears, I called, “Jake? Jake, where are you?”
I raced over to the charred, burning remains of the tractor. With the smoke stinging my eyes, I searched the wreckage for Jake. Where are you? Jesus, he was right on the tractor. Just minutes ago. Right here. He couldn’t have disappeared into thin air.
With my arm slung over my nose and mouth, I made my way around the right side of the tractor. And that’s when I found him.
“Oh no. Fuck no!”
His mangled body was lying a few feet away.Sprinting over to him, I sank to the ground. Blood poured out of his eyes and nose while his blank eyes stared straight ahead. I grabbed him into my arms. “You stupid motherfucker. What the hell were you thinking sitting on the tractor and shooting off the gun?” I muttered against his singed hair.
My cousins formed a circle around me. Although they were screaming and weeping and calling for help, I tuned them out and continued cradling Jake to my chest.
As tears streaked down my blackened cheeks, I shuttered my eyes from the pain. “I’m so sorry, bro. You deserved better from me.”
When I reopened my eyes, Dr. Z was in front of me instead of Jake. Grabbing the hem of my T-shirt, I swiped away my tears.
“He was killed instantly, and you witnessed it all,” Dr. Z stated.
“Yeah,” I murmured.
Pure empathy poured out of his eyes. “Thank you, Jonathan.”
I furrowed my brows at him. “Why the fuck are you thanking me?”
“For sharing something very personal and painful with me. I know it wasn’t easy.”
You’re damn right it wasn’t easy. As I stood there on the green, I cradled the football—my lifeline—to my chest. I feared at any moment I would lose it along with the rest of my sanity. My chest heaved as air whooshed out of me in harsh pants.
At the feel of a hand on my shoulder, I jerked my head up to stare at Ziegler. “You’ve unearthed the root. Now we can work on the offshoots.”
Chapter Seven: Presley
Presley
In the aftermath of Jonathan’s and my blowup, Martin and Evelyn showered me with support and attention. They were so caring it made me want to cry. I had been afraid when they found me assaulting Jonathan, they might be angry. Not to mention when he stormed out of the house and went back to Tech without a goodbye. I didn’t want to be the one putting a wrench between them and their son, especially after they’d just lost Jake. But their reaction was quite the opposite. Over the next few days, they thoroughly spoiled me by making me lie around and relax while preparing my favorite dishes and desserts. I knew they were worried out of their mind that the altercation might hurt the baby.
After a couple of days, I had to gently tell them I was fine and needed to get back to the real world, which didn’t include all-day Netflix binges and afternoon naps. They reluctantly agreed just in time for my interview at Dr. Sullivan’s practice. Well, it really wasn’t so much an interview as Noah’s mom, Maggie, giving me the job and showing me around. It was mainly filing and typing, but I loved it already. They were even going to work around me when the baby came.
Thursday afternoon found me home and alone and tackling some laundry. When a knock came at the door, I couldn’t help smiling. Although it made sense for Martin to knock for privacy reasons, Evelyn insisted on doing the same thing. “Come in,” I called.
When the door creaked open, I threw a glance over my shoulder. At the sight of Jonathan in the doorway, my hands froze in folding a pair of jeans. What the hell?
I’d heard nothing from him since Saturday except snippets of hushed conversation between Martin and Evelyn.
Apparently, Jonathan had been in contact with them to apologize. There was some long email they kept referring to.
“Hi Presley.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t respond. I merely stared at him. As the words he’d hurled at me echoed in my ear, rage once again rocketed through me. At the same time, fear crept along my spine at the fact we were alone in the house—Evelyn had left for the grocery store half an hour ago.
He must’ve sensed my apprehension because he said, “Mom knows I’m here, so you don’t have to worry I’ve shown up to physically throw you out of the house.”
Although I tried not to show it, relief flooded me at his words. “Then why are you here?”
“I’d like to talk to you.” Tilting his head at me, he asked, “Can I come in?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “After what happened this weekend, I would prefer you didn’t.”
He grimaced. “That’s fair.”
“So, what is it you want, Jonathan?” I demanded.
“I wanted to apologize for how I acted on Saturday.”
My breath hitched in my chest. “You do?”
He nodded. “I’ve been such a fucking tool about you and the baby.”
“You won’t get any arguments from me.”
“I could give you tons of reasons why I was such an ass, but none of them would remotely be an excuse for the horrible things I said. I know words don’t mean much, but I hope you’ll accept them.”
Peering curiously at him, I surveyed his expression to gage his sincerity. The intense look burning in his blue eyes told me he wasn’t just shooting me a line. He truly meant what he said. At the same time, my guard was still up over his previous behavior. “Did your parents put you up to this?”
“No. I told them what I just told you. When they asked me if I planned on calling you to apologize, I told them I knew a phone call wouldn’t be enough. I needed to come home and tell you in person I was truly sorry.”
I thought back to Saturday when Noah had left to talk to Jonathan. “Was it Noah who put you up to it?”
Jonathan threw his hands up. “What is it with you thinking I’m incapable of being apologetic on my own?”