Chapter 21
The basketball’s steady staccato is oddly soothing. I relax into the folding chair Reese brought out from her kitchen, taking a sip from the bottle of beer in my hand.
She still lives eight trailers down from mine, in the same place she grew up. I wonder if it bothers her the way it bothers me. There’s nothing wrong with living here, but staying here seems like a failure. There’s no sense of accomplishment earned from moving nowhere.
Reese’s son, Knox, takes another shot. He makes it. In the half hour I’ve been here, I’ve only seen the kid miss a couple, which is a pretty insane shooting percentage.
I glance at Reese sitting beside me. “You might have a future NBA star here.”
She smiles and shakes her head, her expression proud as she watches her six-year-old play. “He prefers football actually.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. He just prefers playing basketball solo. I have a weak arm, according to him.”
I laugh before taking another sip. “I don’t.”
“I remember, Mr. Modest.”
“Next time, I’ll bring a ball. We can toss it around some.”
“He would love that,” Reese replies.
We haven’t touched on the topic of Knox’s father, and I don’t bring it up now. If she wants to tell me, she will.
But Tuck was right; her kid does resemble Phoenix.
It’s dusk, the final streaks of sunset fading from the sky. Mosquitoes will be out soon.
“So, South Carolina was good?” I ask.
“Yeah. It was great to see my folks. My dad’s hip has been bothering him, so it’s hard for them to get up here to visit. Knox got to go to the beach, and my mom and I did some shopping in Charleston.”
“Shopping? You sure have changed,” I tease.
“Shut up. I still prefer shorts and sweatpants, but the occasional dress hasn’t killed me.”
I smile. “Glad you had a good trip.”
“I’m glad the timing didn’t mean I missed you. I-I wasn’t expecting you to stick around town. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy you have. Just …”
I pick at the wet label on the beer. “I wasn’t expecting to stick around either. Things … changed.”
She waits, letting me decide what else to share. Saying this hasn’t gotten any easier.
“My mom’s sick. Doctors are giving her about a year. I can’t take off now, not after missing the past seven years. I want to help her out however I can. Need to … say goodbye.”
Arguably the one thing I’m worst at. Just ask Elle Clarke.
It takes Reese a minute to speak. She knows my mom better than most people. “Shit, Ry. I’m so sorry. That’s just—damn.”
“Yeah.” I tear more paper. “What the fuck can you do, you know? It’s just … it is what it is.”
“Cormac knows?”
I nod. “And Tuck.”
Knox jogs over to us.
“Nice hoops, buddy,” I say.
He nods. “Thanks. Can I have a Popsicle, Mom?”
“That’s fine,” Reese replies.
Knox races toward the trailer.
“Only one!” she calls after him.
“You did way worse shit than taking two desserts,” I remind her.
“Don’t you dare give Knox any ideas,” she tells me. “He needs positive male role models, not troublemakers.”
“Well, I might be fresh out of prison, but according to my parole officer I’m a model ex-con. Had a meeting with him earlier.”
“Must feel strange to be out,” Reese comments.
I nod. “Yeah, it is.”
I haven’t really discussed my time in prison with anyone since my release. Everyone—including me—wants to pretend it never happened. But I hear it in my sleep, the buzz of doors and the clang of metal bars. Wake up drenched in sweat, the claustrophobia of being contained in one space stifling.
Tucker’s too cheerful to share that shit with. My mom has plenty to worry about. Cormac is a kid who should be busy enjoying his summer.
“Were you anyone’s bitch?”
I glance over at Reese. I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s never encountered a boundary she couldn’t bulldoze.
“Seriously?”
Her lips curve around the bottle of beer. “I won’t tell anyone.”
I shake my head. “No. I lucked out, honestly. My cellmate was one of the nicest guys I’d ever met. Loyal too. He kind of reminded me of Tuck.”
“What was he in for?”
“Armed robbery. His mom had lost her job, couldn’t afford rent. He had five younger siblings who were about to lose the roof over their heads.”
Reese sucks in a sharp breath. “Shit. Is he out now?”
I shake my head. “He has two more years. Maybe a little less, if he gets released early like I did.”
“You going to visit him?”
“Yeah. I just … it’s going to be hard to go back. To be on the other side of it. To be in that building again.”
“I still can’t believe you got seven years. I mean, you weren’t even dealing?”
There’s a question lingering after the words.
Very few people didn’t nod and think of course when they heard I’d been arrested holding two duffel bags of coke. They heard my address, and they made assumptions.
“Talking about it won’t change anything,” I tell her.
Just like I can’t go back in time and tell my mom to stop smoking. Who knows if that’s what caused her cancer, but it sure didn’t help.
Reese gets the hint, shifting into a cross-legged position. “So, you dating anyone?”
I cough on the sip of beer I was swallowing. “What?”
“You’ve got some time to make up for,” she reminds me.
“No. I’m not dating anyone. I think the criminal record is kinda a turnoff.”
“Not as repellant as the single mom story. Girls love a bad boy. Worked on Elle Clarke.”
My grip on the bottle tightens. “You ever see her?” I ask casually.
At least, I hope it’s casual.
Elle still hasn’t mentioned the visits to my mom, and it’s bothered me more each time we’ve talked. She didn’t even bring it up when she called and yelled at me last weekend. And until she mentions it, I can’t ask her why. It’s the mystery that I mull over when I lie in bed after waking up from the nightmare of being in prison.
“Elle Clarke?” Reese’s eyebrows fly upward with surprise.
I nod. “Yeah.”
She must come back to Fernwood for more than her visits to my mom. Her parents still live here. Keira’s restaurant is downtown. Rose’s grave is in the local cemetery.
“Uh, no,” Reese answers. “Not since that fall you left.”
My forehead furrows. “That fall?”
“Yeah. She transferred to some private boarding school in Connecticut.”
“She did?”
I’m totally taken aback. I had no idea Elle didn’t graduate from Fernwood High.
“Yeah.” Reese is looking at me strangely.
I’m failing at casual, but I don’t really care.
“Why?”
She shrugs. “I wasn’t friends with her. But if I had to guess, I’d say it had to do with the suspension.”
I sit up straight. “What suspension?”
Reese laughs once. “You seriously don’t know?”
“I was arrested and shipped off to prison, remember?”
“Yeah, fair point. But I figured Tuck would have told you.”
Tuck wouldn’t have told me. I made it damn clear to him that Elle was a subject I wasn’t willing to discuss.
Reese sighs. “What does it matter now anyway? This was all years ago.”
Another sigh as I continue to stare at her expectantly.
“She went ballistic on Archer Hathaway in the hallway the day you got arrested. Most of the school saw it. She was screaming. Shouting. Swearing. She even slapped him. Honestly, I’d had no idea Little Miss Perfect had it in her. Rumor was, she got a three-day suspension, but she never came back to school. Not sure what she thought Archer had to do with your arrest, but she was pissed at him about something. Guess I was wrong back then. You did mean something to her.”
I force a smile, then wash the bitter taste in my mouth away with some beer. My mind is still spinning with questions, but the answers aren’t ones that Reese can give me.
“How’s working for Tuck going?”
“Don’t tell him, but he’s a decent boss.”
Reese smiles.
“I like it. I get to work with my hands, see what I accomplished at the end of the day. Never thought I’d work in construction, but … never thought a lot of things would happen. It’s been good.”
“You going to stick with it past a year?”
I hear what Reese is really asking. Am I going to stay in Fernwood after my mom is gone?
“Probably not. This town … there’s too much history. Cormac has this whole life in Boston. He showed me around his campus last week. I’ve never seen him so … He figured it out. He’s going to get a degree and a good job and … I’m so proud of him. But it’s not the life you want your older brother hanging around for. I’ll come back and visit, but this isn’t home for me.”
Elle will always haunt me here.
I don’t say it, but I’m thinking it. Anywhere I look, I’ll be imagining how life might have worked out differently for us. Anywhere I go, I’ll be waiting to run into her. One day, she’ll have a ring on her finger or a baby on her hip, and it will break my heart.
“I get it,” Reese says.
I nod, knowing she doesn’t. But then I glance at the basketball Knox left by the hoop, and I reconsider.
Maybe happy endings are fairy tales. When my dad left, I learned that love isn’t enough.
Tuck’s black truck pulls up in front of Reese’s trailer. He hops out a few seconds later, his usual smile stretching his face wide.
“Hey, guys.”
He grabs the basketball, shoots, misses, and walks toward us to the soundtrack of uproarious laughter. For a few seconds, we’re all kids again.
“Awesome aim,” I manage between chuckles.
Tuck flips me off.
Reese is wiping tears from her eyes. “Oh my God. You—that—so bad.”
“You should get Knox to give you some pointers,” I suggest.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go, James. I need you to help me with some measurements at the house so I can get them to the appliance guy.”
“Now?”
“No. Next week, when the fridges are all out of stock again.”
I glance at Reese. “What did I tell you?”
She nods. “Terrible boss. You’re paying him overtime, right, Tuck?”
Tucker rolls his eyes. “Are you guys drunk?”
“Aw, he’s mad we’re drinking without him,” I say.
“Just like high school,” Reese adds. “When you’d go to the One parties for … what did he call it, Ry?”
“Hanging out with the cool guys,” I state.
“Ri-ght,” Reese drawls. “That would be a charming anecdote to share at his wedding.”
“I was not going to those parties for Keira!” Tuck exclaims.
“Oh. That’s worse,” Reese says. “Definitely don’t mention it at your wedding then.”
Tuck groans. “Ryder?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I stand and stretch, then give Reese a hug. “Thanks for the beer. And the talk. Let’s do it again soon.”
“Absolutely.” Reese ruffles my hair, then points at Tuck. “My shower is still leaking.”
“I’ll send a guy,” he tells her. “Promise.”
“Last guy you sent made it worse.”
“It was free plumbing, Reese. But—” He obviously catches a glimpse of the look on Reese’s face. “I will send my best guy to work on it this week. Promise.”
She nods. “Thank you. Knox is worried the kids at camp will make fun of him for smelling.”
My heart sinks. I remember those days as a kid. Waiting for the comments about the holes in my sneakers or the empty space in my lunch box. Kids are cruel.
Tuck’s expression is serious as he surveys Reese. I didn’t know him until high school, but he probably had some of those same experiences. “I swear I’ll take care of it.”
“Lighten up, guys,” Reese says, noticing our faces. “I was just kidding.”
She wasn’t though, and we all know it.
Tucker is marrying into one of the wealthiest families in Fernwood. His kids will never be the outsiders.
Reese’s son wasn’t as lucky. If Knox is Phoenix’s kid, I hate him for abandoning his kid a hell of a lot more than I resent him for hanging me out to dry with the cops. Growing up without a dad sucks.
“You guys will be there next weekend? Right?”
Reese sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, toeing a weed in the grass. “I’m not sure …”
“It will be fun, I swear. Knox will love the ferry.”
“They’re Ones, Tuck.”
“We’re too old for that shit, Reese. She’s my fiancée. Everyone will be welcoming.”
I glance between the two of them. “What are we talking about?”
Tuck’s exhale sounds exasperated. “The Fourth of July. Keira and I are hosting at her parents’ place on Martha’s Vineyard.” He looks at Reese. “It won’t all be Ones. Ryder will be there.”
“Maybe I have plans,” I say.
Tuck’s snort is offensive. He could at least pretend to believe I have a life.
“Maybe my boss is making me work.”
He rolls his eyes. “You have the day off.”
I don’t ask what I really want to know. Will Elle be there? Will her boyfriend? I didn’t make it twenty minutes around them without making a comment I should have kept to myself. A whole day—a whole weekend—sounds like a terrible idea.
“If Ryder’s going, I’m in,” Reese decides.
Damn it.
“Okay, yeah. I’ll be there,” I say.
Tuck grins like a little kid, then punches my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
I drain the rest of my beer, then follow him to his truck.