Jenson (Wild Men Book 4)

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Jenson (Wild Men Book 4) Page 14

by Melissa Belle


  Great. I completely forgot about the mayoral dinner on Thursday. That’s the night before my meeting in Manhattan.

  “Will that be okay for you?” he asks, his eyes reading the panic clearly crossing my face.

  “Um, I guess it will have to be.” I shrug.

  Just one of those things I can’t control. Kind of like whatever crazy things I told Jenson last night.

  I hand Jenson back the leash as I stare down at this animal that’s just entered my life. I reach out to pat him again, and he gets so excited he licks my hand with that giant tongue. Kyle giggles.

  “He’s a mixed breed, they think maybe part Rat Terrier, part Chihuahua,” Jenson adds as they go to leave. “He’s a boy, about a year old. He’ll need some obedience training,” he says as the dog starts to drag him down the driveway. “But we can talk about that later!”

  I already know what I’m going to name him. Bernie, after the coffee house. Even as he’s walking away from me, tail wagging, I’m already in love with him.

  Jenson

  “Daddy, Smith said Connor and I can play catch with him during his break. Okay?” Kyle pulls at my sleeve to get my attention.

  I look up from where I’m sitting on the bench on the side of the field. I’ve got the dog leashed by my feet and my iPad next to me so I can keep working on the offensive scheme while I take in the practice going on in front of me. The dog ran around like crazy when we first got here until he exhausted himself and fell asleep on the grass.

  “If Smith says it’s okay and he has the time.” I nod at Smith, who’s making his way toward us. “How did those new plays feel out there?”

  Smith gives me the thumbs-up. “Cool. Except for the one where I have to hand off to Dwyer. I should be throwing on that one.”

  I shake my head. “You can’t throw on every down. Believe me, I fought my coaches for the same reason. But they were right. You’ll have more success passing it off on that play.”

  “Hey, I looked you up,” he says, a smirk crossing his face. “So you were pretty fucking”—he cuts off with a glance at Kyle and Connor, who are grinning up at him—“you were pretty darn good, Coach. State record for touchdown passes still stands, huh?”

  “That’s right,” I say.

  “Why didn’t you pursue it? Coach said your knee, right?”

  I point to the jagged scar that’s still visible on my knee.

  “Oh, wow. Sorry about that.” Smith winces.

  “The thing is, I feel like I was always meant to be a coach. So everything worked out the way it was supposed to.”

  “Hey, maybe one of your boys will pick up where you left off.” Smith tosses the football lightly to Connor, who catches it in both hands. “Nice catch. You ready to play a little?”

  “Ready!” Connor calls goodbye to me, and he and Kyle follow Smith onto the empty half-field behind where the second-team is practicing.

  I watch them go, and the memory of yesterday when I located Donald Waverly for the first time hits me like a gut punch. Seeing his face, and myself in it, was so strange. I’m used to looking at my sons and seeing myself in them, but looking at a man who’s a complete stranger to me in every way and seeing a physical resemblance—it was disconcerting.

  And I don’t know how to handle that.

  I’m the only coach on this side of the field, and no player is within hearing shot of me. I reach for my phone and call Colton.

  “Hey.” Colton’s greeting comes fast like he’s hurrying somewhere.

  “Colt. You busy?”

  “On my way out of the locker room. We just finished in the field, and I’m headed to the film room. What’s up?”

  “It can wait if you’re in a hurry.”

  I can practically feel him slow down his pace through the phone line.

  “Now you’ve got me worried. What’s up, J?”

  I stare across the field. My gaze travels from the players and coaches gathered on the other side, and it’s a moment before I can swallow through the tension in my throat enough to answer him.

  “I found my biological father.”

  “Shit.” Colton’s tone drops. “That’s huge.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “I’m…” I tell him the truth. “Freaked out. A lot more than I thought I would be.”

  “Have you reached out to him?”

  “No.” I briefly explain how I located him online. “Olivia thinks I should meet him. She would never say that to me directly because she wouldn’t want me to feel pressured in any way, but I can tell she thinks it would help me.”

  “Maybe it would help both of you.”

  I let his words sink in. “How come?”

  “Because she’s kind of lived this alongside you your whole life, right? Maybe you need to find closure there of some kind—for you and for her.”

  Christ. He’s right. “Thanks, Colt.”

  When practice ends, I call Olivia and invite her to pizza with the boys and me. Dogs are allowed at the local pizzeria, and ours is more than happy to tag along with us.

  Olivia arrives looking put-together like always with her shiny black hair up in a high ponytail, her blue eyes bright and clear. She’s dressed casually in a pink shirt that hugs her breasts, and black skinny jeans.

  The dog nearly knocks her over the moment she arrives, and she immediately kneels down and pats him. Kyle and Connor rush to hug her, and then they grab “Doggie” by the leash and make a dash for an outdoor table. Olivia and I step into line to order.

  “Is your hangover gone?” I ask her. “You look great.”

  “Right,” she says. “I’m not convinced my hangover’s even fully kicked in yet. I should never have done those shots.”

  I chuckle. “You guys wanted to do another round right before we left. I talked you out of it.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I didn’t want to surprise you in a bad way,” I say to her as we wait to pay.

  “You mean by showing up outside my front door with a pet?” She breaks into a breathtaking smile. “And you brought along your two kids so I couldn’t tell you no in front of them?”

  “That part was unplanned. My mom was supposed to watch them, but she got tied up with Dee.” I lock eyes with her. “So. Are we going to own a dog together?”

  A long beat passes as we stare at each other.

  “Yes,” she says in a tone barely above a whisper. “I’d already made up my mind. I made it up within a minute of you blindsiding me at my front door this morning.”

  “This will be fun. I promise.”

  “How am I supposed to take care of Bernie?” she says. “I don’t know what to do with a dog.”

  “Bernie.” I smile. “After the coffeehouse?”

  “Yeah. You like it?”

  “It’s perfect. I love it. And I’ll help you. We’ll take care of him together.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next few days pass quickly, and somehow Olivia and I never get time alone to talk about the other night. Olivia’s super busy preparing for her upcoming meeting in New York, and I’m up late every night after putting the boys to bed, trying to make sure I’ve got a great game plan in place for Randolph’s first game of the season. It’s the weekend after Colt and Dylan will be in town, so I want to make sure I’m prepared ahead of time.

  Together with our families, we go visit with Auntie Sue, who’s slowly improving, and Olivia and I spend time with Bernie and the boys. The four of us even take him to a dog training class together.

  But on Thursday, Meghan and Andy are taking the boys to the shore for a few days, so after practice, I meet Meghan and hug my sons goodbye.

  Saying goodbye to them like this never gets easier. It might get more comfortable, but I always feel that same ache in my chest.

  “You’ll be here when we get back from the beach, right Daddy?” Connor asks me the same question he asks every time.

  I rub his head. “I promise. I’m not g
oing anywhere. I’ll see you guys really soon.”

  I wave as they drive off, knowing they can’t see me but wanting to make sure that if they do, they’ll know I’m thinking of them.

  I’m always thinking of them. But I also have something else I need to deal with. I pull into a parking space by the town square and text Olive.

  Let’s talk after the dinner tonight. Just you and me.

  Olivia

  I’m at work, in the middle of a hundred files in preparation for my meeting in New York, when my father pops in.

  “Dad!” I say in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  My father’s come by the bank a total of twice since I’ve been working here, and he’s always called first.

  “I’m sorry for the lack of advance notice,” he apologizes as he stands awkwardly next to my desk. His gray wavy hair is in its usual haphazard state, and he’s wearing what Daphne and I teasingly call his “mayor’s outfit”—a blue tie with “Liberty Falls” written on it, and a navy suit. “I was supposed to visit Auntie Sue this afternoon, but with the dinner tonight, I just don’t have the time. Any chance you could go in my place?”

  “Of course, Dad. I always love to visit Auntie Sue.”

  He smiles at me. “You two always hit it off. Not everyone could handle Auntie Sue’s personality, but you—you and she were kindred spirits.”

  “Still are. I’ll go there after lunch.”

  “Speaking of, I thought you and I could grab a quick bite.” He holds up his cell phone. “Battery died, or I would have called.”

  “Um, I’m free for lunch, sure.” I pick up my purse. “Where do you want to go?”

  Dad suggests Burritoville down the road, so we walk there together and get into line to order. As usual, everyone in the place wants to talk to him, and it takes over twenty minutes for us to actually get our food.

  As the mayor’s daughter, I’m used to sharing my father with the town. But going out for a meal never really gives even a hint of privacy.

  But Dad clearly came armed with a purpose other than requesting an Auntie Sue visit, and he leads us to a booth in the far back, away from the other customers.

  Once we sit down, I get a hint of what this lunch is really about.

  “So how are things?” He takes a chip and dips it in the salsa bowl sitting between our plates.

  “Things are good.” I look at him suspiciously and wonder for one brief moment if he’s having some sort of father’s intuition and knows I’m in a relationship.

  But then he says, “Good. Olive, your mother told me about Will and how things didn’t work out with him.”

  “Dad, he threw up on me,” I say before biting into my burrito.

  “Right,” Dad says. “Not exactly impressive.”

  I shake my head and swallow my bite of food. “Not exactly.”

  Dad clears his throat, and I brace myself. I know what my father’s throat-clearing means. It means he’s about to launch into some sort of lecture meant to educate and guide me down the right path. Sheldon used to leave the room as soon as Dad cleared his throat; that way, he’d be long gone before Dad really got going.

  I don’t have anywhere to go other than back to the bank, and I have a nearly untouched burrito sitting in front of me, so I stay where I am but squirm uncomfortably.

  “One’s work is a wonderful thing,” Dad begins. “Loving what you do and being inspired by it. Your mother and I are thrilled you love your job, honey.”

  I furrow my brow. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Loving your home life is just as important,” he continues.

  Here it comes.

  “Mom told me you may be feeling a little lonely since your divorce. And with Sheldon getting married…”

  “Dad. I’m happy for Sheldon. Really I am. And…”

  “I know you’re happy for him,” Dad says. “That’s not what this is about.”

  “What is it about then?”

  Dad puts up his hand. “I understand this is none of my business. But Mom said Will’s a very nice man and very successful, and…”

  “Dad, I’m not going out with Will, and that’s final.”

  “That’s fine. But maybe you and I can go over your options and plan this out. Two heads are sometimes better than one, you know.”

  “You want to sit down and plan out my love life?” I say to him. “Make a list of men, cross certain ones off, and move others to the top?”

  “Now that’s an interesting idea,” Dad says.

  Despite myself, I smile weakly at my father’s well-meaning efforts. “Dad, no. That’s a terrible idea. I was kidding!”

  “Honey, I’m just worried about you.” He drags a chip through the salsa bowl while he talks. “I want you to feel what true love is like. Obviously, your previous marriage isn’t something to shoot for again. It takes longer for some people than others; I was older myself before I found real love with your mother.”

  I’m so tired of looking at his pitying eyes. “I do know what love is like. I’ve been in love. Deeply, crazily in love. Okay?”

  Dad’s bushy eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “You have?”

  I nod. “Yes. And that’s all I’m going to say about it. But don’t worry, please. I’ll be okay.”

  Dad picks up his burrito. “It’s a relief for me to hear you speak this way, Olivia,” he admits. “I was worried you’d put so much of your attention on your work that you’d left your heart behind somewhere.”

  I force a smile at how accurate he really is. I did leave my heart behind somewhere, with a man I never forgot. I’m just lucky that we’ve got a second chance.

  I walk through the nursing home and knock on Auntie Sue’s open door before stepping inside her room.

  She’s napping, and the way the sun’s rays are coming through her window and landing on her face—she looks like an angel lying there.

  I take a seat in the empty chair next to her bed. First, I chat awkwardly about the weather. Then, I talk about the mayoral dinner tonight. But I feel like sharing my heart with someone in my family. And maybe telling somebody who can’t say anything back, especially someone I’ve always looked up to, will help.

  Holding her hand in mine, I start confessing.

  I tell her about Jenson and me. Not every detail. Just enough that she gets the idea.

  “He’s the most important person in my life,” I say. “And you’re the first person in my family that I’m telling. I guess I needed to get it off my chest.”

  Her eyes flicker open.

  For a second, we stare at each other. And then, she squeezes my hand.

  Emotion clogs my throat as I look into her wise eyes.

  “Thank you, Auntie Sue.”

  Mom insists on picking me up for Dad’s mayoral dinner, and I’m on my way out the door when my phone rings. I wave to Mom as I climb into the passenger seat. My long, black skirt gets caught up in my heeled shoe and I untangle it as I answer my phone.

  “What’s up, Sheldon?” I say. “I’m with Mom, and we’re on our way.”

  Sheldon starts talking a mile a minute, but a car drives by and honks at the same time.

  “I missed all of that. Can you start over?”

  “Cara’s driving me crazy. I try to help out as best I can, but it’s never right, and she’s at her mom’s now in tears, and I don’t even understand what I did wrong. I’m sure you can enlighten me.”

  “Let’s talk when I get there,” I say. “I’ll meet you in ten minutes.”

  As soon as Mom and I arrive at the banquet hall, I rush the hors d'oeuvres station. I’ve just filled my plate with chicken satay strips and pastry puffs filled with spiced potatoes when Sheldon rushes over to me. Between his stubble and the dark smudges underneath his eyes, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

  I gesture for him to join me at a table in the back of the hall. He and I are two of the first people here, and I’m enormously grateful for the lack of a crowd. The camera crew is still setting up b
y the stage, and a few reporters are milling around; I wave at Glenn, give a terse head nod to Calvin, and turn to Sheldon.

  “Hate that damn reporter,” Sheldon mutters as we take seats kitty-corner to each other.

  “I know,” I say. “He’s the one who spread the lie about Dad having an affair with his assistant, remember? He doctored the photographs and changed the dates. Lindsay likes women, not men; I still don’t know if Calvin’s end game was to force her to out herself or to get Dad voted out as mayor.”

  “I say he wanted both things. Like I said, hate that guy.” Sheldon grabs a puff off my plate and pops it into his mouth.

  “You look awful. So what’s the matter, big brother?”

  “My wedding…” Sheldon pauses. “Olive, I’ll be blunt with you because I can be: it’s driving me fucking nuts. I’m not kidding here. I’m going crazy.”

  I look at his bloodshot eyes. “You do seem especially tense. What’s the problem?”

  I’ve managed to eat two puffs and start in on a chicken satay before Sheldon speaks again, which is fine with me because when I’m chewing, I can’t answer him very well. I’m just in the middle of fantasizing that maybe I’ll be able to finish my entire plate of hors d'oeuvres before I have to pay attention to anything other than the food in front of me when Sheldon starts talking.

  “Cara’s family is rude and demanding and can be quite crude…”

  “I think I get the picture.” I cut him off. “They’re not helping things. But what’s really going on?”

  “Cara’s miserable over it,” he says. “I know our family’s kind of overbearing and judgmental…”

  I nod at him and purse my lips.

  “But hers is just impossible,” he says. “Everybody’s divorced, and none of the exes can be in the same room with one another. Except they have to be for this one day, right? Which presents a problem. I mean what do they expect us to do—throw two weddings so half can attend one ceremony and the rest go to the other?”

  “They’re all divorced?”

  “Some two and three times.”

 

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