Chapter Twenty-Two
Jake
I’ve often thought my dad might be my biggest fan.
Which would make me the most ungrateful sonofabitch on the planet right about now.
He’s making me a late lunch, consisting of my favorite breakfast foods: bacon, eggs and hash browns with a stack of fluffy buttermilk pancakes after my three-hour flight back from Cleveland.
He hasn’t quit talking about Sunday night’s game.
‘You keep putting up that many yards, you’ll get to the hall of fame in no time,’ he’s saying at the stove. He fills up the plate and slides it onto the table in front of me, the delicious aroma filling my nose. I help myself to ketchup then dig in immediately.
‘You know, on the radio this morning, they said the same thing I said to your mom, last night in front of the TV. I ain’t never seen a player hurdle his opponent twice in the same game. But you went ahead and did it, Jake. Spectacular.’
‘Mmm,’ I respond with my cheeks full.
‘No matter what that defensive line threw at you, you kept on finding the pocket. Dang near Speedy Gonzales.’ He moves his hand in all directions, making pitchow sounds.
‘Mmm,’ I say again.
‘And that catch in the third quarter!’ He slaps his knee. ‘You could see Dent had gone down, and you went for it.’
‘Mmm,’ I comment for a third time.
He frowns at me. The room goes silent, except for the sound of my knife and fork hitting the plate. ‘But you don’t look happy,’ he says.
‘I am happy,’ I say. ‘I’m happy for my team. We got the win.’
My dad shakes his head at me. ‘Son, when are you gonna start giving yourself some credit? You were dynamite out there! You wanna know what your granddaddy said?’
He’s referring to my maternal grandfather, Art Mackabee, career quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers way back when.
I wipe my mouth with one of my mother’s floral napkins. ‘What’d he say?’
Dad’s waving his phone at me. ‘He said “kid plays better than I did!” Do you know what that means, coming from your grandfather?’
I laugh but it fades. I can’t talk about the real issue I’m having.
Yes, I played a great game. And I’m thrilled about that. I am. We carry on like this, the Mutineers will make the playoffs, no sweat.
That’s not what’s on my mind.
All I can think about is Friday night.
Serenity.
Serenity.
Serenity.
She’s invaded my brain. Waltzed on in and taken charge. Though waltzed is the wrong word.
I can’t stop thinking about her up on that stage at Surly’s.
The way she moved. The way she danced. It was mesmerizing.
And to watch and listen to those guys whistling for her…
I’d never experienced jealousy like it until that night.
Watching them watching her, half-naked, I wanted to take out every motherfucker in that room. Beat his ass to a pulp.
Am I still mad at her for not telling me? Yes.
Does it mean I feel any differently about her? I keep telling myself that it should.
But she’s all I’ve thought about since the moment I left her in that parking lot.
When I’m finished, I push my plate away. Wipe my mouth on the napkin one final time. I hear the front door slam and River enters the kitchen, tossing her book bag and kicking off her shoes.
‘Hail to the king,’ she mutters in an understated kind of way. ‘How long you been back?’
‘Not that long. How was school?’
She gives a nonchalant shrug. ‘School was school.’
‘That kid give you any beef? What was his name again?’
‘Scottie Lincoln. No, I don’t think he was there today.’
‘Good.’
‘Congrats on your win.’
‘Thanks. You watch the whole thing?’
‘Of course. That was a sweet catch in the third quarter. Was Cleveland nice?’
‘I don’t know. All I saw was a stadium and the inside of a hotel room.’
We hear an engine out front. I crane my neck. It’s followed by a car door slam, and it sounds like it’s close by. I get to my feet and take my empty plate to the sink.
‘You expecting visitors?’ I ask River.
‘No. Are you?’
‘Nope.’
I go past River and walk to the front door, stepping out onto the front porch.
A car has pulled up outside close to the kerb, its trunk wide open.
On the near side, the passenger door is open.
I frown as I witness Scottie Lincoln helping a second young guy from the passenger seat into a wheelchair.
The other guy is taller than Scottie, broader too, and is wearing a high school varsity jacket and blue jeans.
‘Uh, hey.’ Scottie Lincoln raises his voice when he sees me. ‘Give us a minute.’
I watch as the second guy takes control of the chair and wheels himself onto the sidewalk.
I frown. ‘You fellas want something?’ I ask.
Scottie Lincoln looks awkward. ‘This here is my older brother, Wylder.’
‘Hey,’ Wylder says, keeping hold of the rims on the wheels. ‘Nice to meet you. We wondered if River is home.’
My frown has morphed into more of a menacing stare. ‘How do you know River lives here?’
Just at that moment, River comes barging out of the door onto the porch. She looks at me and the two men. ‘What’s going on?’
I lean my head toward them. ‘Scottie brought along his brother. Wylder.’
River turns to look at the guy in the wheelchair. He has wide shoulders, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s an athlete or football player. ‘Hey,’ she says, and it seems like he’s familiar to her. ‘You disappeared. I’ve not seen you in a while.’
He manoeuvres himself forward a fraction, so that the wheels are touching the grass on the front lawn. Scottie closes the car door and remains where he is.
‘I was up in Austin,’ he replies. ‘Some specialist physical therapists are tryna help me walk again. When Scottie told me what happened with your brother… I just needed to explain a few things. Look, Scottie did go around messaging all the guys at school not to invite you to the winter formal. But… he did it because I asked him to. I didn’t want anyone else asking you when I couldn’t, because I was upstate.
I asked around for your phone number so I could ask you, but nobody I knew seemed to have it. ’
I look at River. Her cheeks are bright red. Then she walks down the steps toward him. ‘You were gonna ask me?’ she questions.
He nods his head. ‘So… what do you say? Would you maybe let me take you to the winter formal?’
‘You guys should have been up front with me,’ River says, and I’m proud of her for standing up for herself. ‘Both of you. Wylder, you should have got Scottie to ask for my number. Scottie, you made a fool outta me, in front of the entire senior class.’
This time it’s Wylder turning a shade of red. Scottie stares at his fingers.
‘But thank you,’ she then adds softly. ‘I’d love to go with you.’
I see Wylder’s broadening grin. ‘That’s awesome. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. But I should tell you, I can’t do much dancing.’
River shrugs. ‘We’ll figure it out.’
They’re cute, I’ll give ’em that.
‘You guys wanna come in for a soda, or something to eat?’ River asks them both.
‘Sure,’ Wylder says, brightening. ‘If it’s okay with your brother?’
River snorts. ‘Oh. Don’t worry about him.’
Wylder manoeuvres himself toward the front path. He looks back at Scottie. ‘A little help?’ he says.
The younger brother jumps to attention and rushes to his brother’s aid.
‘Here, allow me,’ I say, walking down the steps, and together, Scottie and I lift Wylder’s chair up to the porch with him in it. River gets the front door as Wylder wheels toward it.
‘Thanks, man,’ Scottie says to me, looking awkward.
I run one hand around the back of my neck. ‘I’m sorry about Friday. You should have said.’
‘What, when you were about to punch me in the stones?’
I hold out my hand to him. ‘I should have heard you out. I apologize.’
‘It’s alright, man,’ he says, and we shake hands. ‘Things aren’t always black and white, I guess.’
His words hit me, and I know in that moment that I need to call Serenity.
Upstairs in my room, I pace up and down. I wait until four o’clock. I figure she’ll still be at the diner for her shift. Just after four, I call her dedicated cell.
‘Hey,’ she says as she picks up. Her tone is soft and subdued.
‘Hey,’ I say back, and I wonder if I should have driven to the diner to do this in person. ‘You at the diner?’
‘Yeah. I just finished my shift. You back in Canyon?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Heard you had a good game.’
I would have thought she’d try and watch it, but then I remember: she was working. ‘We got the win.’
‘That’s awesome. I’m real pleased for you.’
‘Thanks.’
We lapse into silence. I know I was the one to call her. I spent the entire weekend thinking about her. Yet I still don’t know how to unpack this whole thing.
‘Jake?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I was hoping that you would let me explain some things to you. I’m not… at the club tonight. Can I meet you somewhere? I could drive up to the cabin. I just need to look in on my dad.’
I associate the cabin with the Serenity from before. Right now, I don’t want to meet her there. Yet we don’t have anywhere else.
‘Does your dad know about me?’ I ask.
She pauses. When she speaks, her voice sounds thicker. ‘No.’
‘I’d like to see where you live.’
‘Jake… we can’t. What if we’re seen?’
‘Give me the address. I’ll head out just before it gets dark. You can let me in real quick.’
She goes quiet. ‘You’re mad at me. That’s why you want this, isn’t it?’
‘I wanna know the real you, Serenity. Not some version of you. I want the truth. Just tell your dad I’m a friend. Does he know—’
‘—that I work at Surly’s?’ she finishes for me. ‘He knows.’
‘Alright then. Message me the address. I’ll be there tonight.’
She doesn’t respond for some time, like maybe she’s wrestling with something. ‘Okay,’ she then says. I hear her exhale. ‘I’ll see you there.’
We hang up. I wait for an address. Eventually, it comes through.
2932 Spring Chase, Temptation Heights
When I moved to Canyon, there were two places folks told me not to go: Temptation Heights, and the township of Rapture, in the northeast.