Chapter 15 Sorry, Mom
Sorry, Mom
Jamie
The gradual approach of fall was one of Jamie’s favorite times of year, not only because it would soon stop being so goddamn hot outside, but also because he valued the potential that came attached to every new school year.
He simultaneously loved and loathed seeing his son get older, but he got true fulfillment from witnessing his growth…
as a person, as a student, and even as an athlete.
Jamie was sitting toward the top of the bleachers of Williamson County’s soccer complex, under a beating sun, watching a crop of eight- and nine-year-olds scramble across the field.
He envied their energy. Though he did notice that Jack seemed uncharacteristically sluggish and wondered whether he was feeling ill or just uninspired by his new position as a fullback.
He’d excelled as a center midfielder last season, but the coach was adamant about reconstructing the team for the sake of diversifying the kids’ skills.
Jamie told Jack he didn’t have to keep playing soccer if he didn’t want to, which only prompted a lecture from the eight-year-old about the importance of follow-through. “You played sports when you were my age, right?” he’d asked. “So you know you can’t just quit when you don’t like something.”
Jamie adored Jack’s idealism. He contemplated telling Jack about his former love affair with baseball, all its ups and downs and in-betweens, but there was no reason to crush his jaunty spirit just yet.
In fact, Jamie didn’t talk about that part of his past with anyone, stingy about sharing his disappointments, not wanting to be judged for their superficiality.
Some people had real problems, and not playing a sport for a few extra years was barely one.
And really, it was a sore spot to this day.
Back in high school, Jamie had been accepted to a few different colleges, including his first choice, Vanderbilt, with a preferred walk-on status for their illustrious baseball team.
But he hadn’t received any full scholarships, and with his dad barely hanging on, both financially and emotionally after the divorce, Jamie thought it better to stick around and get a job instead of adding an extra financial burden.
Pick up the slack his mom left. There was no rush; it wasn’t like he was going to be drafted into the majors. He could go to college when Casey went.
Of course, then he didn’t. He’d made enough money as a handyman to help his dad as needed. Enough to send Casey to Duke, with some financial aid. And Jamie found purpose elsewhere. He’d convinced himself that college wasn’t for him, and as he started making real money, he’d grown to believe it.
Over the years, his dad encouraged him to try baseball again, just for fun.
Find some local team he could occupy his time with.
But he never even watched the sport anymore.
It actively bothered him. The pesky ache that surfaced every time he considered whether he’d given up too easily.
Lucy used to chide him about that. How readily he walked away.
He didn’t like to fight. Not with her, but not even for things he wanted.
Maybe he’d be happy, whatever that meant, if he tried a little harder to follow that dream, no matter how impractical.
With all of this on his mind, Jamie headed down to the field to keep a closer eye on Jack, persisting through whatever seemed to be bothering him.
As Jamie took his new seat, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket, and although he couldn’t place the number, he answered hastily, the 901 area code eliciting immediate concern for his father.
But he instantly regretted it upon recognizing the voice on the other end. Speak of the devil and she will undoubtedly appear.
“Jamie? Are you busy?” It was his mother, with her pompous drawl that people used to liken to Julia Sugarbaker, more Savannah than Memphis.
“I am,” Jamie replied curtly. His tone was especially impolite considering they hadn’t spoken in at least four years. But that was on her. “What do you want?”
“Well.” She took a deep breath, presumably bracing herself for his rebuff. “Your father and I will be having a get-together for Labor Day. Nothing fancy, just a little barbecue. And I thought it would be nice if you and Jack could come out for the occasion.”
Jamie instinctively scoffed at the invitation, thinking she couldn’t possibly be serious. But then, Diane Gallagher was nothing if not audacious. “Did Casey put you up to this?”
“Of course not. I asked him if he thought you would be amenable, and he actually said no. But with my birthday comin’ up, and things…the way they are now, I think it would be a nice time to reconcile.”
What the hell did she mean by “things the way they are now”? He was, of course, too stubborn to ask, unwilling to give the impression that he cared. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” he said. “Dad and Casey may be happy to forgive you, but I haven’t found a reason to.”
“Understandable,” Diane said quietly. “But I would very much like to see my grandson.”
“You haven’t seen him in five years. Why are you pretending to care now?”
“I’m not pretending.” She chuckled in a way that sounded almost pained. “I can’t make amends if you won’t allow me to even see you all.”
“But I don’t owe you that,” Jamie said, speaking in a hushed tone.
“I don’t owe you anything. You’ve had how long to ‘make amends’?
And instead of giving a shit, you gave up at the first sign of difficulty.
” Jamie paused when he recognized how familiar that sounded; but it wasn’t his job, as a teenager, to make her feel better about what she’d done to their family.
It was always on her to atone for her sins, and he didn’t appreciate her suddenly reappearing, seventeen years later, to guilt him into fixing what she broke.
He didn’t even understand how his brother and father were okay with this.
Diane began to speak again, surely something in her own defense, but Jamie’s capacity for her ceased as soon as he noticed Jack running off the field, headed straight for him. He wondered, worried, whether this was a panic attack or something somehow worse.
“I have to go,” he told his mother, hanging up the phone as Jack approached. “You okay, bud?” Jamie called out to him.
Jack was signaling for water, but before he could even reach the outfield, he confirmed Jamie’s suspicions as he bent over, his hands on his knees, and retched into the grass.
Funny enough, hearing from Diane had Jamie feeling the exact same way.