Back to the Top (Ross Records) (3)

by J. L. Paul

  “Jake, dude,” Nick said suddenly, sitting forward. “You know what would be cool? If you’re deck was screened. We could sit out there and watch the storm.”

  I prodded my brain back to the conversation, pushing my worries over this relationship with Jake to the side. “Are you crazy, Nick? What if a tree fell or something? It would smash us all.”

  “Wow, Iz,” Nick laughed, bumping my knee with his. “Your Drama Club ways haven’t quite left you, have they?”

  I gave him a look and then turned my head back to the window where the storm continued to wreak havoc. The dog continued to whine and whimper, the sounds muted by the door to Nick’s room but I commiserated with the furry guy. His fear was a bit more reasonable than mine, though, as his fear came from the thunder and lightning. Mine came from the feelings swirling inside of my heart.

  Nick got up to check on the dog, returning moments later with another flashlight. He plopped into a chair, toying with the flashlight, making the beam do tricks on the ceiling.

  As the storm started to wane, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier as my body began to slump into Jake’s side. Before I knew it, I was out for the count.

  “Iz,” Jake whispered, gently shaking my shoulder.

  When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the sun filtering through the windows, illuminating the rain drops still clinging to the glass. Yawning, I stretched, my bones protesting the broken rest I’d gotten on the uncomfortable couch.

  “Let’s wake Sleeping Beauty and go check out the damage,” Jake said, nodding at the recliner.

  Turning my head, my neck cracking in the process, I spotted Nick, curled in the chair, sleeping with his mouth open.

  “Yo, dude,” Jake said, snagging a guitar magazine off the coffee table in order to smack Nick in the head. “Get up, man.”

  “Damn, Jake,” Nick cursed, squeezing his eyes tighter. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

  “I know.”

  Getting to my feet, I crossed the room to the window, peering out at the grounds. Several branches littered the yard, tons of green leaves sprawled across the lawn. Squinting in the bright sunlight, I tried to see the gate but it was out of my line of vision.

  “Get your shoes on,” Jake ordered, already showered and dressed and waiting by the front door. “Let’s go check out the gate.”

  “You seem far too peppy for someone who probably has thousands of dollars’ worth of damage to your property,” I muttered as I worked my way toward the door where I’d left my flip flops. I slipped them on while Nick stumbled to his room, returning a moment later with shoes on his feet.

  “Where’s the dog?” Nick asked.

  “In the back,” Jake said. “Once I fed him, he raced to the lake, probably making sure Stella is still around.”

  “Stella?” I asked.

  Jake’s face split into a grin. “Yeah. Stella. She’s an ancient goose that came here last summer and never left.”

  “And BK is, what – friends with her?” I asked, astounded.

  “Yep,” Nick said around a yawn. “She wanders off sometimes but always comes back. BK chases all the other geese that stop here but he just follows Stella around.”

  “That’s just…weird,” I said.

  “Very,” Jake agreed. “Now come on.”

  Nick and I followed Jake out the front door, making little comments here or there about the branches that had broken off the trees the night before. After stepping over a rather large limb in the driveway, I finally laid eyes on the tree resting on the gate.

  “Damn,” Nick said.

  “Yeah,” Jake agreed.

  Through the thick foliage, I could barely make out the iron bars that made up the gate. The trunk of the tree stretched across the yard, crossing the driveway before the top of it had crashed into the gate. Luckily, it was just the top and not the entire tree or the damage would have been far worse.

  “Good luck getting someone out here on a Sunday,” Nick mused.

  “I’ll call Matty,” Jake said. “He has an uncle that owns a landscape company, remember? They did my yard last summer.”

  “Duh,” Nick said as he pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. “I’ll give Matty a call right now.”

  “Damn, Iz,” Jake said, turning to me slightly horrorstruck. “If I can’t get this tree removed today, will you be okay here for another night?”

  I swallowed hard as I nodded. Brad was not due back until the following weekend. That wasn’t what had worried me, though – it was the talk I’d had with Nick the previous night.

  “Matt said his uncle will be out here with a crew within an hour,” Nick said.

  “Excellent,” Jake said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go start the grill.”

  “The grill?” I asked as I followed them back to the house.

  I watched in amazement as they started the gas grill and then proceeded to place a pot of water on top of the grate, waiting for it to boil.

  “Instant coffee,” Jake explained as Nick mixed eggs in a bowl before dumping them into a skillet that was also on the grill. “You learn tricks like this when you camp, Iz.”

  “We haven’t camped in years,” Nick continued as he watched the eggs. “Not since we were kids. But some things you just don’t forget.”

  I sipped coffee, watching as Jake and Nick scarfed down runny eggs (I declined a plate), wondering the entire time if I would have the strength to let Jake go again. I didn’t have much time to ponder this as once breakfast was finished, Matt’s uncle showed up with a couple of ‘boys’ to start on the tree.

  We stood in the drive, watching the progress, BK running circles, barking at the chainsaws. As more and more limbs were cleared, I could see quite the gathering on the other side of the damaged gate. Several small groups ducked, bobbed, and weaved in an effort to get a look at Jake. It was annoying, to say the least, but kind of amusing, too.

  According to the battery powered radio that Nick had listened to that morning, the storm had hit all of Chicagoland, but Jake’s area the worst. As we watched the crew work, a news van pulled up on the other side of the gate, eager to cover as much storm damage as possible.

  Nick shifted in front of me as Jake gripped my upper arm, dragging me back to the house.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked, a little disappointed that I couldn’t watch the tree removal. For some strange reason, I was intrigued with the tree crew’s methods.

  “You don’t want your face on the news, Iz,” Jake said as he opened the door, nearly pushing me inside. “I don’t think Loverboy would be too happy.”

  “Oh,” I said, sinking into a chair. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Didn’t think so,” Nick said with a smirk.

  “How stupid,” I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

  Jake stood near the window, shrugging his shoulders. “Just leave him, then. Problem solved.”

  With a quick glance at Nick, I bolted for the stairs, fleeing to the guest room where I slammed the door and flopped on the bed.

  What kind of mess had I gotten myself into this time?

  ***

  A soft knock on the door woke me and I sat up, pushing my hair off my sticky face. Jake peeked in before I could even answer, a sad smile on his face.

  “Hey,” he said as he crossed the room to sit next to me. “Feeling better?”

  I nodded, folding my hands in my lap. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out like that.”

  “No, it’s okay,” he said. “I shouldn’t have put you in this situation. It’s on me, not you.”

  Shaking my head, I turned to face him. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing, coming here when I’m engaged. It’s not easy for me and I know it can’t be easy for you.”

  He pried my hands loose in order to hold one in his. “I didn’t mean to put any pressure on you. Nick told me that you two talked a little bit and that you want to be friends. I can do that, Iz. It won’t be easy at first, b
ut I’ll do it if it means you won’t disappear from my life again.”

  I kissed his cheek, my heart swelling. Pushing off the bed, I moved toward the window, looking down on the front yard where the gate had been cleared, the crew still chopping up the wood to store in the pole barn for Jake’s fireplace.

  “I don’t love him,” I whispered, admitting it more to myself than to Jake. “But I can’t just walk away right now. I need to work some things out first.”

  “I understand,” he said. I glanced over my shoulder to see him still sitting on the bed, giving me my space. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

  “No,” I said as I moved toward him. “I can’t ask you to wait around for me. That’s not fair.”

  “You didn’t ask,” he said, standing. “I offered. I’ll be here for anything that you need. If you decide that you do want to marry this guy, I’ll understand. If you just want us to be friends, that’s cool. I don’t want you to feel as if you have to make a decision. I’m not going to make you pick.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that so I started shoving what clothes I’d brought into my bag. “I have to go home.”

  “Okay,” he said, lifting my bag from my fingers and carrying it downstairs.

  I hugged Nick goodbye and promised Jake that I would call soon. He nodded, tight smile on his face, and watched as I drove down the driveway, avoiding the tree crew and gawkers as I turned onto the road and headed for home.

  Ten

  The next week flew so quickly that it made me dizzy. I kept busy during the day at the Center, organizing our upcoming projects and calling businesses for donations. At home, I cleaned, organized, and browsed the Internet in an effort to keep my mind off of Jake. But he was always there, lurking, prodding me to figure out a way to get out of Brad’s snare and return to him.

  That was the problem, though. I couldn’t figure out how to get away from Brad. There were several extenuating circumstances behind the engagement – things I’d promised. Like most things in Brad’s life, marriage was a business deal. When he’d proposed, it was more like a negotiation than a romantic gesture. But I’d known back then not to expect anything less.

  The night before Brad was to return, I soaked in my tub, candles flickering around me while I sipped a glass of red wine. Sinking into the suds, I closed my eyes, trying to relax in hopes that a solution would come to me. Of course nothing did. Rarely did it ever.

  Brad returned late Sunday night, giving me a courtesy call to let me know he’d made it home safely. We chatted briefly and ended the call with a promise to get together for dinner Monday evening.

  Monday, after work, I rushed home to shower and prepare to meet Brad at his country club. I had to grit my teeth the entire time I was getting ready, not looking forward to the evening. Of course it wouldn’t just be him and I – he had to invite George and Mildred.

  Once the waiter led me to the table, Brad stood, smiling as he kissed my cheek.

  “Darling, I’ve missed you,” he said, giving my hand a brief squeeze. He pulled out a chair and I sat, smiling at the other couples joining us. My heart thrilled to see Kevin and Jenny beaming at me from the other side of the table.

  “How are things at the Center?” George asked as the waiter placed salads in front of us.

  “Wonderful,” I said, unfolding my napkin and placing it in my lap. “We have several exciting programs coming up.”

  “That’s nice,” Brad said as he signaled to the waiter to refill his drink. “So, George, what do you think of the latest contract amendments?”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. It never failed – every time someone asked about my work, Brad had to trump it with his work. It was his way of making me realize that what I did wasn’t nearly as important as what he did. I wanted to kick his shin.

  After dinner, when the four piece string ensemble began to play, Jenny scooted closer to me.

  “We really need to get together again, soon,” she said. “Maybe lunch or another girls’ night.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, grateful for her presence. She was my ally and my friend – both of which I desperately needed.

  “Would you care to dance?” Brad asked, interrupting my conversation.

  “Sure,” I said, forcing yet another smile. I allowed him to lead me to the dance floor where Mildred and George were already swaying gently to the music.

  Brad held me a little closer than usual. “I think we should announce a wedding date soon. Perhaps by the end of the week.”

  “That soon?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “Yes,” he said, brow raised. “Having second thoughts?”

  I swallowed, thinking perhaps this was my opening. But no, not at the club. Besides, I still had a sticky mess to untangle. “No. Of course not.”

  “Well,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low. “I spoke with Edward Marsh last week over the phone. You do know that Edward Marsh heads the Board at your little Children’s Center, right?”

  “Yes,” I said, choking on the word.

  “He wasn’t pleased that you were in a tabloid magazine, visiting a crack addict’s baby.”

  “Ronnie is not a crack addict,” I defended, my mind wrapping around this latest development. “Wait, what tabloid? And what does that have to do with my work at the Center?”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen it yet, have you? Well, a photo of you at the hospital visiting the crack baby appeared in some tabloid. Edward Marsh’s wife saw it. Bad publicity,” Brad stated. “I assured him that the entire incident is in the past and will not be repeated. However, he still has some concerns. I think that if we announce a wedding date, he will see that you are over that silliness and ready to marry and enter into a more mature, stable relationship.”

  I could not believe what I was hearing. How the hell was my association with Ronnie a bad thing? Controlled Environment had always given to charity and hadn’t been the subject of any controversy in a long time – not since Jake’s addiction. But since then, they’d campaigned against drugs, Jake often speaking out against it during interviews and on their webpage. They’d managed to turn something ugly and horrible into something that might make a difference in someone’s life.

  And how had I missed the tabloid? I wondered if Jake knew about it.

  “Isabella?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, struggling for an excuse. “I’d like to speak to my family, first. I’d like to make sure that they would all be able to attend.”

  “I’m sure your family would work with any date that we set,” Brad said. “It’s time, Isabella. We made an agreement and I’ve kept my end of the deal. It’s your turn to deliver.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “Fine. I’ll look through my calendar tonight and give you my suggestions.”

  “Excellent,” he said. He spun me around the floor, suddenly light on his feet.

  But I wasn’t feeling as wonderful as he. Instead, my stomach was twisting into knots that I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to untie.

  ***

  Friday was a horrid day. As a child, I remember my mother reading me a book about a little girl who’d had a bad night. One page stuck out in my mind:

  Mommy made me take a bath without my princess bubble bath, my favorite yellow duck got stuck in the drain, and I had to wear the ugly, kitty pajamas.

  That just about summed up my whole day.

  Tessa, bless her sweet little heart, came bounding off the bus with a wad of gum stuck in her hair. I tried every remedy I could find online to no avail, finally resorting to calling her mother.

  After lunch, two little boys who were usually the best of friends, got into a knockdown, drag out fight in the sandbox – complete with dirt throwing – over a truck. Naturally, the little tiff in the sandbox set the other children off so that they were running and ripping around the playground, screaming and shouting and totally out of control.

  And the topper – Edward Marsh and several members of the board pulled up in
the middle of the melee. It took me, Addy, and two other volunteers to get the children settled down and back inside for story time. I, however, ended up with dirt on my face, ice cream on my shirt, and my hair sticking out of the ponytail I’d put it in that morning.

  “Miss Ames,” Mr. Marsh said, eyeing me with disdain. “We were wondering if we could have a word with you.”

  “Certainly,” I said. I turned to Addy but she held up a hand with a smile. I returned that smile before leading the Board members to my office.

  I asked them to be seated before plopping into my chair behind the desk. “What can I do for you?”

  Edward cleared his throat as he settled into his chair. “We are concerned about the welfare of the Center.”

  “I assure you, that even though today has been a little crazy, it’s not normally like this,” I said.

  He ignored me. “It has come to our attention that you’ve recently been featured in a tabloid magazine.

  My eyes narrowed as my brain processed this information. I remembered Brad mentioning a tabloid but I, for the life of me, could not believe that I was featured.

  “I don’t recall it, to be honest, but if I was in a tabloid, I don’t understand what that has to do with the Center,” I said.

  “We’ve had trouble in the past securing donations,” Edward explained. “And this Center thrives on donations. We cannot allow this sort of bad behavior to tarnish the Center’s reputation.”

  “I did nothing wrong,” I insisted. “All I did was go to the hospital to visit a friend that had just had a baby.”

  “Yes,” a tight-lipped woman with an equally tight bun. I couldn’t recall her name and didn’t much care at that moment. “But it was a rock band member’s baby. A rock band member who is a known drug addict.”

  I could not believe what I was hearing. So stunned was I that I couldn’t even form a sentence.