Chapter 15 Ella
Ihad no idea how Jane and Dave did it. Babysitting was hard enough. Being a full-time parent…no, I was definitely not ready for that. Aunt Pat had the right idea. Better to just borrow other people’s children and then send them back when you need a break.
“Come on!” Willow roared, tearing up the walkway toward her front door.
“I’m coming,” I said, dragging my feet as I trailed behind her.
By the time I walked through the door, she’d already stripped off her winter clothes and was clinging to her mother’s leg with all four limbs.
“How was she?” Jane asked me.
Exhausting, I almost blurted. Willow’s boundless energy was impressive, and after not watching her for so long, I’d forgotten how much she tired me out.
“She was good,” I said. “We went sledding this morning before the snow hit, then had lunch, then made a snowman, and spent the afternoon playing dress-up.”
Jane grinned. “Yeah, she’s going through a phase. Mom said she put a tutu on Corgnelius last week.”
This I had to see. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”
Jane pulled up her phone and showed me the evidence. Sir Corgnelius McFloofikins – his official title – filled the camera frame. A pink mass of tulle spread out from his waist in all directions. He looked scandalized.
“Can you send that to me? Megan and Stacey will lose their minds when they see it.”
“Sure. They really need to get an apartment that allows pets,” Jane said, her fingers flying over her phone.
“Agreed. Did you finish your article?”
She grinned. “Yeah. Want to have a glass of wine to celebrate?”
“Sure!” I said.
I was thrilled that we were back on good terms. Jane could hold a grudge, and as I’d predicted, it took her weeks to forgive me for the candy cane incident.
I knew her extended annoyance was driven by the stress of the holidays and deadlines, and I’d tried to be good about giving her some space, even though I missed her and Dave and Willow.
Sometimes Jane and Megan were more alike than I think either of them was willing to admit.
I was beginning to suspect it was why they still didn’t get along.
We set Willow up in the living room, her favorite show on the TV and the dogs to keep her company, and retreated into the kitchen where we could still see her, but wouldn’t have to hear every word of the insidiously catchy songs the cartoon characters sang.
“What’s the article about?” I asked.
Jane, her back to me, poured us each a glass of red. “How the USFL is about to lose a lot of money to the players that are suing them.”
I nearly choked. “What?”
She turned around, glasses in hand. “You actually gave me the idea, so thanks for that.”
WHAT?!
“I did?” I squeaked out.
“Yeah, that conversation you had with Dad and Jacob at Christmas about CTE got my wheels spinning.”
Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit. I grabbed a glass from her and took a big gulp, trying to buy myself some time to think. I had to tell Ben. If I didn’t, and he saw that my sister had published an article about him, he’d think I’d betrayed his confidence.
“Jesus, slow down. It’s not a shot,” she said.
I took one more swig for bravery. “Who’s publishing it?”
Please let it be some small news outlet.
She grinned. “The New York Times.”
Fuck!
“That’s awesome, Jane! Congratulations!” I said with forced enthusiasm. “Cheers!” We clinked glasses. I set mine down on the counter. “One sec, I think I left something in the truck.”
“What…Ella, your jacket!” she called as I dashed out of the side door.
I whipped my phone from my pocket and immediately dialed Ben. “Pick up, please pick up.” I had so much adrenaline going that I couldn’t even feel the cold.
He answered after the fifth ring. “Hey there.”
“My sister is writing an article about your lawsuit for The New York Times.”
The silence on his end of the line was deafening.
“I didn’t tell her anything, Ben. I swear it.”
“I believe you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “She overheard me talking to my Dad and Jacob at Christmas about brain injuries and got inspired, so this is still my fault. I’m sorry. I’d just met you and was curious about CTE and some of the studies I read. I needed someone to make sense of the medical jargon for me.”
“It’s okay, Ella,” he said. “This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known your curiosity would lead to this.”
“I know, but I still feel like it is. I haven’t seen the article yet, but I need to warn you that it’s probably very political.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I figured. I read some of Jane’s articles after you told me what she does. She’s really talented.”
“What do you want me to do?”
He was quiet for a full minute. “What’s her address?”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “You’re not…you’re not going to come over here, are you?”
“I’d like to. I’m sure she could use an anonymous inside source to bolster some of her research.”
“Ben, she’s a journalist. So is Dave. I don’t know what they’d do with the knowledge of you being hermitted up here.”
“You don’t trust them to keep it to themselves?”
“I don’t know. I want to say that I do, but the risk is…”
“The risk is mine to take. What’s her address?”
Holy shit. Okay, this was happening. I gave him the address and then got off the phone.
“What the hell was that about?” Jane asked when I walked back in.
I stared at her, unsure of how to proceed.
“Ella, your face. You’re starting to worry me.”
I took a deep breath. “I know one of the players involved in the lawsuit. He wants to talk to you about your article.”
She nearly dropped her wine. “Are you,” she glanced toward the living room and lowered her voice, “are you fucking kidding me?”
I shook my head.
Realization dawned across her face. “Oh my God. Stan. It’s Stan, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Stan is really Benjamin Kakoa.”
Eyes wide, she chugged her wine.
“It’s not a shot,” I reminded her.
She set the now empty glass on the counter and raked her hands back through her thick hair. “Who else knows?”
“No one. Well, Jack, but I don’t think he realizes who he is.
Ben lives down the hill from him. I met him at Jack’s place just before Christmas, which is why I was talking to Dad and Jacob about CTE.
Jane, you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.
Not even the family.” My tone turned brutal, my inner dragon rearing her head.
“I swear to God, if you do, I’ll never forgive you. ”
She stared back at me, expression grim. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“I mean it, Jane.”
Her expression darkened. “I won’t say anything. I actually have some journalistic integrity, you know.”
She did. Damn my mama bear instincts for making me question my own sister. “You’re right. I know you do. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “What the hell is he even doing up here anyway?”
I hesitated. “It’s not my place to say.”
“Is he about to come bitch me out over this?” She glanced toward her daughter. “That dude is scary.”
“He is not scary,” I said. “He’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. And I think he actually wants to help you, be an anonymous source or something, but thanks so much for your assumptions.”
She closed her eyes and braced her hands on the island countertop. “I’m sorry. That was a crappy thing to say. This is just a lot to take in.”
“I get it. Maybe try to give him the benefit of the doubt from now on, though.”
“I will.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “I need to call my editor and get an extension.”
“Okay.”
She picked up her phone and dialed. “Max? Hi, it’s Jane. Yeah. I’m glad you like it. I need you to hold off on doing anything with it. I know. I’m sorry. I may have an anonymous source with insider knowledge of the lawsuit. No. Max, no. Do you not understand the meaning of anonymous?”
Some of my dread eased hearing her be so firm with her editor. I picked up my own phone and texted Ben.
She won’t say anything.
OK. On the way. Just dropped the puppies off at Jack’s.
I grinned. Good luck getting them back from him.
He didn’t respond. I assumed it was because he was driving. I set the phone down and looked up to see Jane doing the same.
She met my gaze. “This is surreal.”
“Tell me about it. I almost had a heart attack when you told me what the article is about.”
She laughed. The sound was frayed at the edges. “No kidding. You looked like it.”
“I’m sorry for freaking you out. And for snapping,” I said. I just got back in her good graces. I didn’t want to have another fallout right now.
She walked around the island and hugged me, short enough that she could rest her head on my shoulder, just like Mom. “It’s okay. I know how protective you can be.” We let go, and she grinned up at me. “Remember the first time you met Dave?”
I smiled in return. “Ah, the threats I made.”
Her expression flattened. “Payback is a bitch.”
“Jane, don’t you dare! It’s not like that between Ben and me.”
“Oh? You didn’t just text him while I was on the phone?”
“I did. So what?”
“Sweetie, your face told me everything I need to know.” She patted me on the cheek hard enough to sting a little.
I stepped out of her reach. “Please don’t embarrass me.”
“I think I’ve made enough promises for one day, don’t you?” Her grin became malicious in a familiar way that suddenly clicked. So this was where Willow got it from.
“Jane.”
She cackled in response.
I spent the next ten minutes trying to bargain with her. Right up until the dogs leapt off the couch and started barking at the windows. Ben was here.
“Mommy, truck!” Willow helpfully supplied.
I went outside to meet him, letting the dogs streak past me through the door.
“Hi, you two,” Ben said.
He spent a long time crouched down at their level, letting them wriggle themselves close as they threw an OMG-I-missed-you-so-much-where-have-you-been party. Once they calmed down some, they moved on to frantically sniffing him.
“They must smell the puppies,” he said, standing.