17. John
Ipulled up to the curb to pick up Joey with an almost uncomfortable happiness rising within me.
I”d had a little time to think these last few days while she went to work, and the conclusions I was coming up with were scary. At least they were for a guy who a couple weeks ago was unattached and uninvolved, focused one hundred percent on keeping his edge.
Suddenly, I was living a life of sheer bliss, coming home every day to a woman I loved, one I felt might have been actually put on the planet specifically for me. I”d always felt that way about Joey—it was only in the past weeks that I”d allowed myself to actually begin to acknowledge the possibility that it was true.
Fate and destiny were not things I”d really ever believed in. How could I? A kid whose life took his mother”s couldn”t let himself think about fate. If he did, he”d never survive the truth of his own existence. He had to think that things just happened.
But here she was. Josephine Baxter had arrived on my doorstep (okay, the police station) out of the blue and we”d fallen into a rhythm so natural it was hard to imagine it wasn”t part of a much bigger plan. And where I”d been worried that this new life would interfere with my singular focus on proving my worth to the Wombats, it seemed to be doing the opposite.
Working with Joey at the gym had actually pushed me to work harder. I was stronger, leaner. And knowing she was waiting for me at home made my time on the ice more effective too. Corny and Elks had both commented on it last time we put together an informal scrimmage.
Joey looked up from her phone to see me arrive, and the smile that lit her beautiful face was everything. It was the sun and the moon. It was fucking elemental.
She pulled open the door and climbed in. ”Hi Sammy.”
”Hey baby. Did you have fun?”
Joey grinned at me, her eyes softening. ”I like it when you call me baby.”
I hadn”t realized it had slipped out. God, I loved calling her baby. ”You do?”
She nodded, the happy smile still lighting her face. ”Especially when we”re...”
I raised an eyebrow and glanced over at her as I pulled out, pointing the truck toward home. ”When we”re...?”
”You know.”
Warmth mixed with the happiness in my chest and expanded, and I wished I could somehow freeze this moment. I wanted to take a three-dimensional picture of this exact second in time. I wished I could keep it and tuck it into my pocket to pull out and relive over and over, when I wanted to remember what it had felt like to be perfectly, totally happy.
”I do know.”
Joey”s giggle pulled my smile even wider.
”Think we should go home and I can call you baby some more?” I asked her.
”I think I”d like that,” she said, her voice low and sexy and hot. She turned to face me, pulling one leg up into her seat as she swiveled. ”But first, I want to talk.”
If her tone hadn”t been so light, so encouraging, I might have been worried. ”Okay.”
”I had such a nice time with Clara,” she said, oblivious to the tiny flicker of fear she”d just launched into me. ”She”s super smart, and really insightful. And I can”t believe how nice it was of her to set me up with those shadows.”
”That was really nice.”
Joey didn”t say anything else as we pulled slowly into the tree-lined neighborhood where I lived, and I did my best to push down the seed of concern threatening to sprout inside me. We would talk when we went in, and whatever it was would be handled.
Inside, we settled on the couch, Hank in his spot behind me, preparing his paws for the head massage I”d get whether I wanted it or not.
”So,” I began, wanting to eliminate whatever uncertainty lay between us.
”So,” she said. ”I think I”m ready to make some decisions.”
”That”s great.” I said the words, but my stomach twisted. Was Joey going to leave and move on with her life? Had this been just a pit stop on her way to her real future?
”It is great,” she said. ”And I want to thank you first, for everything.”
Oh god. I braced myself for the goodbye.
”From the moment I arrived, you”ve been everything. You gave me a soft place to land, the time and space to think...clothes, food...” She flexed her arm, making her bicep pop. ”And you gave me muscles!”
”You gave you muscles,” I agreed.
”They”re tiny, but they make me feel strong. It”s like I got here, and you saw that I needed to get myself back, and you gave me a way to do it. I never knew that building my strength outside would result in making me strong inside.”
”It does though, doesn”t it?” I was glad to hear it. We”d really just gotten started, but I knew that connecting with your body could change your whole life. ”I saw that when I worked at hockey camps in college. These kids who really had nothing would develop a sense of control over their lives... it”s pretty incredible.”
”It is,” she said, her face glowing as she smiled at me. ”And so are you. I feel so lucky that you were here. That you were so willing to help.”
”Always.” The word was almost a whisper. The suspense was killing me.
”Anyway,” she went on, dropping her eyes as if gathering strength.
Hank”s paws landed on my head, and I swatted them away as I tried to steel myself to have my heart broken.
Joey”s mouth opened and at that second, the doorbell rang. The melodic ring was followed by a series of loud, persistent knocks.
We exchanged a look as Hank leapt to the floor and wandered to the front door, ready to greet whoever was suddenly here.
”Um... hang on,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was after eight, though it was Saturday. Still, I didn”t have a lot of evening visitors. I didn”t often have visitors at all. And the UPS guy wasn”t normally so forceful about announcing his presence.
I stood, moving to answer the door, utterly unprepared for the two faces that greeted me on the other side.
”Hello John.” Mr. And Mrs. Baxter stood on my doorstep, dressed as if they”d come straight from the polo game in linen and pastels.
”Mama?” Joey”s voice was a mystified shriek, and she was by my side a second later. ”Daddy?”
”Hello, Sweet Pea.” Her father looked as comfortable on my doorstep as I imagined he did in his own home.
I struggled to find words, suddenly transported back to those times when I”d knocked on the huge imposing front door of the Baxter”s enormous house in Peach Tree Grove. A scraggly kid from the wrong side of the tracks showing up to see the debutante who was way out of his league.
Finally, I managed a hello. Luckily, Joey wasn”t short on words.
”What on earth are you doing here? How did you even find me?”
”Darling, it was no mystery where you were,” Mrs. Baxter said, glancing past us and into the house with a slightly annoyed look on her face.
”Your mother insisted on putting that app on your phone back in high school, darlin”, remember? Plus, you told her you were staying with John, here.” Mr. Baxter said, shaking his head as if he”d had no part in this decision to track their daughter via phone.
”John, dear, is there any chance I might visit your powder room?” Mrs. Baxter asked me. ”We drove all the way from Richmond this afternoon.”
”Richmond?” Joey said.
”Figured if we were coming to Virginia, we might as well visit your Aunt Louise,” Mr. Baxter said. ”We”ve been here about a week now.” He grinned and I turned to see Joey”s mouth drop open.
”A week?” she repeated.
”Come on in,” I said, realizing we”d stand here in the entry for hours if I let Joey”s clear shock run the show. ”Mrs. Baxter, the restroom is just down the hall there, on the right.”
”Thank you, John,” she said, offering me a false smile before making her way down the hall. Hank let out a yowl when she passed, making her steps stutter briefly before she disappeared.
”Sorry to barge in on you, son,” Mr. Baxter said, stepping inside and glancing around. ”Though I guess maybe you”re getting used to that now.” He laughed at his own joke.
Joey stood wide-eyed by the door, still not quite recovered from the surprise of seeing her parents, I guessed.
”Can I get you a drink, sir?” I asked.
”Sure, that would be great,” he said. ”Got a good Scotch?”
”I”ve got some whiskey,” I told him, hoping it wouldn”t be inadequate held up to Mr. Baxter”s undoubtedly high standards.
”That”ll do, thanks.” He turned to Joey, who still stood by the door, watching us as if she was on the other side of a screen. ”Pumpkin, you want to come sit and tell me what you”ve been up to?”
”Um, okay,” she said, glancing at me. I hoped she wouldn”t tell them everything she”d been up to. Her look was almost guilty, though.
I poured four glasses of whiskey, unsure whether that was the appropriate thing to do in these specific circumstances. Did Joey”s mother drink? Or would she be offended by the assumption? And would Joey drink in front of her parents? Did they know she drank? Was I supposed to drink?
Dammit, this was my house. And I was an adult. I splashed just a touch more into my own glass and took a quick swallow.
”Here you go, sir,” I said, setting the glass on the coffee table in front of Mr. Baxter. ”And for Mrs. Baxter,” I said, setting hers down. I made one more trip, handed Joey her drink and then sat down across from Mr. Baxter just as Mrs. Baxter returned from the bathroom.
”Well, it”s really nice to see you again,” I told them, hoping the insincerity didn”t come out too strongly in my tone. I wasn”t much of a poker player since my emotions pretty much popped right out.
Mr. Baxter didn”t answer, just lifted his glass to me and grinned before taking a sip. ”Well, that”s not half bad,” he murmured, offering me a nod.
”No, thank you,” Mrs. Baxter said primly, pushing her own glass away.
Joey reached across her father and took her mother”s glass, setting it next to her own.
Mrs. Baxter let out a tiny huff.
”You tracked my phone?” Joey asked, her voice flat.
”I”ve been tracking you since you started driving, darling. I thought you knew that.” Joey”s mother waved a hand as if brushing this minor detail aside.
”We figured out you were in Wilcox since John plays here,” Mr. Baxter told her. ”But then we had to do a bit of detective work to figure out where exactly he lived.” He leaned back, crossing his legs casually, as if this was just a meeting with his pals at the country club. ”Your father sends his regards, John.”
I felt my eyebrows fly up. ”You spoke to my father?”
”Needed your address. The tracker isn’t super accurate,” Mr. Baxter said with a careless shrug.
I wondered what my father had made of that. Had he been on his good behavior, I wondered? Or had he been as offensive and rude as he”d been the one time he ate dinner at the Baxters” house when I was in high school? It was no shock he hadn”t called to mention this little detail to me. My life was about as interesting to him as the local quilting bee.
”Darling,” Mrs. Baxter said to Joey, sounding worn out and yet still managing to be condescending. ”Why don”t you gather your things and let”s head home? I”ve managed to recoup half the deposit on the reception hall. We just need to rebook within the year. Replanning everything will be no small feat.”
”Mama.” Joey”s voice was low but loud enough to hear clearly. ”I am not coming home. And I”m not marrying Evan.”
Mrs. Baxter straightened as if she”d been slapped. I doubted Joey told her mother no many times before.
The older woman sighed. ”Haven”t you had enough of this?” With the word ”this” she waved around my house, and as I followed the wave of her smooth, manicured hand, it was as if my house was suddenly drained of all color, all personality, all class. I saw it as a woman like Mrs. Baxter might—small, spare, and sad.
”No, Mama. I”m not tired of it at all. John has been nice enough to take me in and help me look into some of my options.”
”Your options, Sweet Pea?” Mr. Baxter asked, swirling the whiskey in his glass appreciatively. ”This stuff is growin” on me, John.”
”I”m glad, sir.” I felt like a third wheel in this conversation, but I was trapped in my spot across from this intimidating couple. And I didn”t want to abandon Joey, who had just gulped down her first glass of whiskey and was now sipping at the second.
Joey didn”t seem in a rush to tell her parents about the ”options” she”d mentioned, and my discomfort had my mouth suddenly attempting to fill the silence.
”This is a mid-Atlantic whiskey,” I said, lifting my own glass. Mr. Baxter reached his out across the table and we clinked them together. The gesture felt slightly out of sync with the other conversation that was going on around this table, and I had an odd sensation of fracture—as if two separate times were occurring simultaneously in one space.
”It”s called Half Cat,” I went on, realizing there was no real purpose to my jabbering but unwilling to release the space back to the uncomfortable hesitation I felt from Joey. ”They make it in Maryland,” I continued. ”And now I hear it”s the signature whiskey of the Kasper Ridge Resort out in Colorado.”
”Oh yeah?” Mr. Baxter said, his tone impressed. ”I read about that place recently, I think.”
”Can we get back to the point of being here, please?” Mrs. Baxter said.
Joey put her glass down with a thud, and I realized she”d just pounded both glasses in rapid succession.
Oh hell.
”The point of me being here was to get away from you,” Joey said, her tone tired. ”I have no clue why you”re here.”
Joey”s mother”s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut as a rosy blush climbed her cheeks.
”Pumpkin, don”t speak to your mama that way,” Mr. Baxter said, but there was no venom in his words.
Joey”s shoulders slumped. ”I”m sorry, Mama, Daddy,” Joey said. ”I shouldn”t have just run, but you have to understand how trapped I felt.”
”I do not,” Mrs. Baxter huffed.
”Everything about my life was planned for me,” Joey went on, her words slurring just the tiniest bit. ”You chose my clothes, my fiancé, my wedding date...”
”Darlin”, your mother and I just want to take care of you,” Mr. Baxter said, raising his own empty glass in my direction.
I stood and retrieved the bottle, handing it to him. He grinned at the little cat on the label and poured himself more.
”I”m an adult,” Joey said. ”And I need to be allowed to make decisions for myself.”
”Decisions like running away to Virginia to play house with the same boy who tried to ruin your future for you back in high school?”
That got my attention. ”Sorry, what?”
Mrs. Baxter waved a hand at me, as if dismissing me. ”You nearly made Josephine miss the most important social engagement of her junior year,” she explained. ”With that little sports dinner you tried to drag her to. And if she”d missed it, she might not have had the opportunity to make a good impression on the executive director of the ladies” league, who went on to write her a glowing letter of recommendation for college. And who was, incidentally, the mother of her future fiancé.” Mrs. Baxter sniffed as she finished this little speech, and anger swelled inside me.
I remembered that dinner.
It was the one I”d asked Joey to after working up the nerve for weeks. It was the dinner where I was going to be awarded MVP, the one that marked a clear step toward the future I was pursuing. And it was the only time I”d been brave enough to act on my all-consuming crush on my best friend.
Joey had said yes.
But two days before the banquet, Mr. Baxter had called me, explaining that Joey was worried about our friendship and how coming with me to the banquet might give me the wrong idea. He”d made it explicitly clear that Joey did not think of me as anything but a friend. He told me she”d been too embarrassed to make the call herself. And I”d been too embarrassed to ever bring it up with her again.
”You told me John stopped by and cancelled that when I was out,” Joey said slowly. I watched her face as the pieces clicked together in her head. I didn”t know what else her parents had told her, but whatever it was had kept her from ever mentioning the dinner to me again. ”You told me he”d asked you to tell me and that I shouldn”t ever bring it up so I didn”t embarrass him.”
Anger formed a hard knot inside me.
She turned to me. ”They told me you”d realized you couldn”t afford to take me after all,” she said, her eyes shining and sad.
Now humiliation joined the anger and my heart burned in my chest for the boy I”d been back then. That kid had saved and scrimped to buy a corsage and pay for the second plate at that banquet. That kid had put every hope he had on that evening finally moving his desperate crush into something real, something mutual. He”d been gleefully anticipating the surprise from his teammates when they saw his beautiful date. And when he”d gotten the balls to ask her, she had said yes.
But her parents had decided for her.
”That”s not what happened,” I said quietly, meeting Joey”s eyes and feeling that years-old secret solidify the bond between us. Her eyes shone with sympathy and something much deeper, and she reached out a hand, grasping mine.
Then she let go and turned back to her parents.
”There is no point talking about the horrible things you did when I was young,” she said, earning a huff from her mother and a quiet ”darlin”” from her dad. ”Because my life has moved on, and all the decisions I”m making from now on are my own, and I don”t care what you think about them.”
”Darlin”, why don”t you just come on home, and we”ll talk about everything? We can let John here get back to his own life.”
I waited for her to agree, to give in, every fiber of my being hoping she wouldn”t, that the quiet touch of her hand had confirmed what I felt inside.
”Your house isn”t my home any longer,” Joey said to the astonished couple on my couch, her voice rising in pitch. ”This is my home.”
Mrs. Baxter glanced around, her face turning down into a disbelieving frown. ”What on earth do you?—”
”John and I are engaged. We”re getting married.”
Time stopped, and all three of us turned to stare at Josephine Baxter.