by Aubrey Gross
Jo’s eyes stung at the warmth and sincerity in Sarah’s voice, and for the first time she realized that Chase may not have been the only one who had been hurt by her actions. His parents had always been incredibly affectionate with her, and she’d returned that affection. In all her confusion and anxiety about Chase, though, she hadn’t allowed herself to miss his parents, too.
Tears clogged her throat, and she was afraid that if she spoke she would fall apart, so she nodded instead and squeezed Sarah in return.
“Don’t hog her, Sarah!” Bo Roberts’ tone was gruff and teasing, causing Sarah to step back and slap at his arm before he, too, caught Jo up in a hug.
“We’ve missed you, Jolee Girl.”
At the sound of the nickname only Bo had ever called her, Jo almost did lose it then. Luckily, Chase and Matt had gotten their height and size from their dad, and her face was buried in the older man’s shoulder, hidden so that no one could see her composure slipping. She nodded, squeezed him back hard, and fought to regain her composure.
By the time he pulled back, she’d managed to pull herself back from the precipice and had plastered a smile on her face. She caught Chase watching her, noted the worry in his eyes and her smile softened into something that felt more natural.
Sarah and Bo stepped back, and Jo blindly reached for Chase’s hand, needing something solid to keep her in the here and now rather than transporting her back twenty years to happy times and bittersweet memories.
“It’s good to see y’all too.” She smiled at his parents, meaning the words in a way she wouldn’t have just five minutes earlier. It was good to see Sarah and Bo, and their warm, heartfelt greeting had quickly helped heal some of the bruises on her soul that she hadn’t even acknowledged existed.
Awkwardly, she realized that Owen and Jenn had jumped into the pool and were apparently trying to give them some privacy. She didn’t miss Jenn’s smile or wink, though, before Owen pushed her under water. Matt was paying attention to something on his iPhone, but Jo didn’t doubt for a second that he’d observed every second of that little exchange.
Chase’s parents settled into chairs around a big, wooden table, and for the first time Jo was able to actually look at Chase’s backyard. It was huge, with a high wooden privacy fence and lush greenery all around the edges. More privacy, she assumed. The deck they were standing on was raised a few feet above the ground, with steps leading on either side down to the yard. The pool was directly in front of the deck, and was a bit of a marvel in and of itself.
Rather than being surrounded by smooth concrete or tile, it was edged by the same limestone as the house. Kidney shaped, one end featured a diving boulder, and the other featured a waterfall that flowed into a separate, slightly elevated and smaller pool that Jo assumed was probably a hot tub. Banana plants and hibiscus surrounded the waterfall and hot tub, creating a shaded oasis that cried relaxation.
Even with the large pool, there was still plenty of yard—and green grass—for Winchester, who at the moment seemed perfectly content to snooze under the shade of the deck’s covering.
The yard sloped downward towards the back, and to the right Jo could make out the vivid blue water of Lake Amistad. To her left, she could just see the peaks of the Sierra del Burro mountains across the border in Mexico. The view alone had been worth her earlier discomfort at seeing his parents.
Jo thought back to the conversation she and Jenn had had at Chili’s a few weeks ago, and Jo realized Jenn hadn’t been lying—Chase really had done well for himself.
She chose an empty deck chair and sat, enjoying the view and the ebb and flow of conversation around her.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Chase leaned over and said quietly in her ear.
She smiled. “This is one hell of a view, Chase Roberts.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
He was looking at her rather than the lake or the mountains, and Jo felt a flustered blush creep up her neck. She nodded and he chuckled.
“You two really need to get a room,” Matt muttered under his breath, never once looking up from his iPhone.
Chase kicked him in the leg, causing Matt to look up and glare before rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to his phone.
Jo was wondering how to subtlely ask Matt if everything was okay when Sarah reached out and took the phone from Matt’s hands.
“Mom!”
“Matthew Tyler Roberts, you’re putting this damned phone away right now and speaking to your friends and family rather than ignoring us.”
Matt’s expression turned flat, but even Jo could see the barely leashed tension that vibrated through his body. From the pool, Jenn snickered and said, “Matthew Tyler Roberts, huh? Somebody’s in trouble.”
Matt didn’t look at Jenn, just got up and stormed inside. Jenn’s expression clouded over briefly before she turned around and dove under the water. Sarah and Bo looked slightly uncomfortable, Chase looked confused, and Jo was torn between worry for Matt and his odd behavior and wanting to shake Jenn for being uncharacteristically bitchy. She squeezed Chase’s hand and murmured, “I’m gonna go grab something to drink. You want anything?”
He shook his head and she got up and went inside. Matt was sitting on the couch, watching the ballgame. Jo grabbed a couple of Dr. Peppers from the fridge and headed into the living room, holding a cold maroon can out as a peace offering.
“These still your favorite?”
Matt looked up at her, took the can and mumbled, “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She hesitated, trying to figure out how to offer an ear without coming across as pushy.
“Jo, whatever it is you want to say, just say it.”
She took a breath, studied the can still in her hand, before saying, “I know I have no point of reference for what you’re dealing with right now, Matt, but if you need an ear I’m a pretty damned good listener.”
For a second he looked almost angry, before once again sliding the mask over his face. “Thanks, Jo, but I’m fine.”
No, you’re not. She nodded her head. “Fair enough. The offer stands, though, Matt. And if not me, try to find someone to talk to.”
“I’m not a fucking woman, Jo. I don’t spend time sitting around talking about my goddamned feelings.”
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. God save her from emotionally stunted males. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. By the way, when the hell are you going to get your hair fixed? You look like you should be coming out of a bar on Sixth Street.”
Matt snorted, but his posture relaxed, which was what she’d been aiming for. “I don’t know. I kinda like it.”
“Going for the sympathy fuck, hey?”
Matt finally laughed out loud at that. “Honestly? No. My sense of humor’s just fucked up enough that I find it funny.”
“Oh, it’s definitely funny. Anyway. I’m going to go back out. Maybe you should join us and apologize to your mom for being a dick.”
“When did you get such a potty mouth?”
“Oh, somewhere between my senior year of college and dealing with teenage boys on a daily basis.”
He shook his head. “You’re braver than I am. You couldn’t pay me to deal with teenagers all the time.”
“It’s definitely challenging. Anyway, I’m gonna go back outside. Enjoy your coke.”
Matt looked down at the still unopened Dr. Pepper in his hand, at the TV, up at Jo and then back to the cold can in his hand. “I’ll be back out in a few minutes. Just need to cool off a little bit.”
Jo had a feeling he wasn’t talking about from the heat, and wondered yet again what was going on between Jenn and Matt.
~~*~~
Chapter Fourteen
The next evening Jo found herself sitting around a limestone fire pit on the patio of the boys’ ranch, a glass of wine in one hand and Chase’s
hand in the other. A feral hog was roasting in some sort of box called a Cajun cooker—Chase had explained to her how it worked, but she was still skeptical—and somewhere in the distance she heard the yip yip yip of a coyote.
Once again, she was struck by how beautiful it was out here. Growing up in the area, she had a love and appreciation for this part of Texas, where the Hill Country began to fade into desert and mountains. Living in central Texas had given her a love and appreciation of the greenery, water and rolling hills that defined Austin and the area surrounding it.
But there was just something about this area that called to her.
Jo leaned her head against the back of the wooden Adirondack chair, and looked up at the sky. The sun had dipped below the horizon, shades of purple and orange and black announcing its descent. The moon had begun to rise, and stars were starting to peep out. Already, there were hundreds upon hundreds of them. The sight took her breath away.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Chase whispered in her ear.
“The stars. You don’t get views like this in Austin.”
She felt more than saw him shake his head. “No, you don’t.”
He leaned back, rested his head against the back of his chair, and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.
“Did you like it? Living in Austin for college?”
Chase snorted. “What college kid wouldn’t enjoy living in a place like Austin? Hot chicks, Sixth Street, live music all the time, great food. It was fun, I got to play ball for my dream school and got a top-notch education in the process. I actually stayed for a while after graduating, worked for a couple of IT startups. I got in with a commercial real estate firm, helping out with marketing and stuff. The more I learned, the more I enjoyed the business. I got my real estate license, learned a lot, stayed there long enough until I could take the broker’s exam. Once I passed it, I moved back home and started my own commercial firm. What about you?”
“What about me?” Her tone was teasing.
“Do you like living in Austin?”
She shrugged and continued to look at the stars, which were increasing in numbers as the last bit of light left the sky. The fire crackled and popped, and she could hear Jenn, Owen and Matt inside the ranch house, laughing and arguing over a game of pool. “It’s a beautiful city—as you know—and there’s always something to do. I readily admit that I enjoy the convenience of having an HEB or a Walmart within a mile or two, and a Central Market or Whole Foods within reasonable distance. There’s the food—Austin really does have some amazing restaurants. I love my women’s shooting league, and working with kids and helping them.”
“I sense a ‘but’ in there.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I guess you could say there’s a ‘but’.”
“So what is it?”
Jo sighed. “Honestly, the place gets on my nerves sometimes. Hell, most of the time. Traffic sucks. The cost of living keeps going up. The City Council’s comprised of a bunch of idiots who don’t listen to their constituents. And the city that used to actually be weird just isn’t any longer, at least not organically. Any weird that exists is a bit manufactured at this point. And don’t even get me started on the state of the public school system.”
“I thought you loved your job.”
“I do. Or, I love the kids. I love helping the kids. And I like most of my coworkers. It’s the people at the top.” She blew out a breath, took a drink of her wine. “I always have to keep my mouth shut about this stuff, y’know?”
He squeezed her hand. She rolled her head to the side, saw that he was looking at her. “So what has you so frustrated?”
She drew her brows together, trying to figure out where to begin. “Well, for one, it’s getting more and more difficult to do my job. There’s so much fear now of a lawsuit that all of us are working with one hand tied behind our backs. There’s also the fact that the administration’s become bloated. There are more administrators and non-teaching personnel than teachers and counselors. I’m talking admin assistants, marketing and PR folks, accounting, stuff like that. The superintendent keeps telling the community and the teachers that the coffers are dry, that there’s no money for teacher raises, and it’s been that way for the past four or five years. But then they turn around and remodel a football stadium or want to give iPads to high school students. Meanwhile, principals are trying to stuff thirty-five kids into a classroom that should only hold about twenty-five. We’re losing teachers—good, veteran teachers—and the kids are suffering because of it. I just…I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and doing what I can to help my kids and to make sure they get out of there with clear goals for the future. But some days, especially the ones when I hear the superintendent on the radio or the news begging for more money, those days I get really, really tempted to walk.”
“Why haven’t you?”
Now there was a question she’d asked herself more than once. “Because I love the kids. I’m in a pretty good high school, we don’t have the problems that some of the other schools in the area do with violence, drop outs, low test scores, etcetera. But we have our issues. I know the kids, know their families. I’ve been there long enough that I know a lot of their older siblings, their parents. Most of the time I’m helping them with class scheduling and college prep, but there are always the students who just need someone to talk to, or the trouble students that need someone to care. We had three kids commit suicide last semester. Three. There were days then that I wanted to walk away because my heart was breaking, but I couldn’t. The kids needed me, and I guess in some ways I needed them. I also have good friends that I work with, some really great teachers. Besides, with this economy I’ve been a little scared to walk, especially since I’ve had job security, even if I have had one hand tied behind my back.”
“And here I thought high school counselors just helped kids fill out scholarship applications.” His tone was teasing.
She smiled. “Oh, I do plenty of that, too. Believe me. And I celebrate with every student and share their excitement when they get a scholarship offer or admission to their number one college. That’s the fun part—helping the kids figure out what their goals are and how to get there.”
Chase rolled his head so that he was once again looking up at the sky. She studied his profile, drinking in the angles and curves of his face, the dark stubble that shadowed his jaw.
“Have you ever thought about moving back home?”
Jo looked back up at the night sky, contemplating the stars and his question. “Until my parents died, not really. I had no desire to be anywhere near them. In the past few years the thought’s kind of been there, especially with Gran getting on up in years. But I haven’t really given it any serious consideration, even though Jenn’s begged me more than a few times.”
“So what exactly happened with you and your parents?”
She shrugged, felt a tinge of sadness where once she’d felt nothing but anger. “I left for college. At that point I had a full understanding of the type of person my mother was, and I’d never been close to Dad. Mom would call me every now and then, bitch about how Dad wasn’t paying attention to her, ask me if I’d gained the Freshman Fifteen and what I was doing to make sure I didn’t. She would sometimes send me care packages, but they weren’t your typical care packages. Instead of homemade cookies and photos from home, or even laundry detergent and quarters, her care packages would be stuff like the latest fad diet book, a box of diet pills and a picture of the Super Model of the Day. She always wrote ‘Perfection equals success!’ on those damned pictures.
“I would throw the diet pills away—I’d tried some before and it was like I turned into Jessie Spano from that episode of Saved by the Bell. But by that point I was pretty deep into disordered eating, so I would read the stupid books. The pictures, I would hang up on my wall. I stopped talking to Mom a couple of months into therapy. I’d realized she was ena
bling the disorder, encouraging it, really. I tried to talk to her about it a few times, but she wouldn’t listen, didn’t realize that her behavior was damaging herself and me. We were on the phone one day, and she was laying into me pretty good, piling on the guilt trip and trying to push my buttons. I lost it, just got fed up, told her where she could stuff her diet pills, diet books and perfection, and that if she didn’t make some changes and get help herself that we were done. She hung up on me, and I’d never felt so free in my life. I was a little sad, but mostly it was like I could breathe for the first time in a long time. We never spoke again after that. Gran came to my graduation, but that was it. I don’t know if Dad even knew what had happened, since he never really talked to anyone. How those two met and got married and managed to create me I’ll never know.”
They sat there in silence, looking up at the stars. After several long moments she felt a wet nose nudging at her elbow. She looked down at Winchester and smiled, set her wine glass aside and scratched him between his ears. He rested his chin on her lap, his body wagging as he gave her puppy dog eyes.
Chase tugged on her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”
His simple gesture made her heart flutter in her chest a little bit. “It was what it was, and it’s made me who I am today. In some ways, it makes me a better counselor.”
“Still, though. I’m sorry you had to go through that. It sounds like you could have used a friend or two.”
Her smile was tinged with regret as she turned her head and looked at him. “I could have, yeah. That was on my shoulders. I had Jenn, but she was up at North Texas, so we were relegated to talking on the phone and instant messaging each other. I had a couple of friends at Baylor who I trusted enough to let them know what was going on. Katie and Rebecca were really a good support system, and good roommates. We were all in the same program, so they kind of watched out for me, knew what to look for to make sure I wasn’t going back down the ED rabbit hole.”
