Cole drove us back and had me try to get a hold of Parker. He wasn't answering texts or calls. I tried to explain to Cole that if he was on duty or sleeping he might not get them, but it wasn't enough for him. His fear for Parker overwhelmed him.
I thought it was too late to randomly go to his place and check on him, but Cole reminded me that it was better to be safe than sorry. It felt surreal. All of a sudden the man that had been his biggest competition was his biggest concern in life. We got to the base and I lied to get in, saying I was there for my parents, but we went to Parker's place. It was late and dark strange for us to be there knocking on Parker's door, but we did. He came to the door shirtless, barely awake, and in camo pajama pants.
“What's up?” he asked.
“We wanted to come over,” I said.
“Can we come in?” Cole asked.
Parker stepped out and let the door drift shut behind him. He crossed his arms suspiciously. “The other guys are sleeping. What's going on?” he asked again.
Cole told him he knew about Haylee having another guy and he knew how tough it could be when someone found out something like that. He spoke like he'd had the same talk with someone before. Every time Parker said he was OK, Cole came back with a quick question. He actually even asked Parker if he felt like committing suicide. Parker raked his hands through his hair, and left them stacked on the top of his head for several seconds.
He didn't lie about it; he answered straight up. “I've thought about it. I don't know what I was thinking going down there. I don't know what I thought I'd find.” He shook his head, and clenched his jaw. I felt guilty.
“How would you do it?” Cole asked.
“What?”
“If you were going to kill yourself, how would you do it?”
“One shot to the head, man. Middle of nowhere, no mess to clean up, animals would scavenge me, and no one would miss me but my CO.”
I saw Cole look at me quickly and nod his head almost imperceptibly. I was supposed to know what he meant but I didn't. We stayed there with him for over an hour, talking. Mostly Cole asked questions and Parker answered. The questions were normal enough but there was something more to them. Cole asked about his family, how many places he'd been stationed, what he was involved in. Like he was with me, Parker was vague with Cole about his childhood and parents. All he said was that his dad and Haylee's mom had been together, and the two of them grew up together, and it wasn't a good situation. Other than Haylee, he mentioned only having one other friend, and an old boss who had taken him in after he moved out of his dad's house. Cole confronted him straight up. “Look, I don't know how much Tatum's told you about me but I had a girlfriend who committed suicide. I'm worried about you, dude. It's not something I ever want to see someone do again, and it's not something Tatum needs to carry with her.” Cole told me later he brought me into it to make Parker think about who he would be hurting if he followed through. Parker had very few loved ones, Cole said, he needed to know how his death would impact the people he left behind.
“I'm not going to do anything.”
“All right, but you should know, I'm going to talk to Tatum’s dad, see who needs to know about what's going on with you.”
“You don't need to talk to anyone.” Parker stood up, ready to fight. “I'm fine.”
Cole stood up, too. At a step lower, he was still eye level with Parker. There had been tension between them on a couple occasions, always over me, and they both tried to conceal it. This time was different, ominous.
“Then there's no problem,” Cole said calmly, not taking his eyes off Parker. “If you're fine, they'll know; and if you're not, they'll help you get back to good.”
Parker's jaw clenched in the porch light and his hands were balled into fists. Growing up with brothers I knew that sometimes boys just needed to fight and it was starting to feel like one of those times. Parker was mad and Cole was once again looking for redemption; a word I couldn't even define before Parker used it.
“I don't need you in my business, man.”
“I'm already in it. Maybe all of this happened with you and Tatum so I could be here at this exact moment in your life. I just want to be sure you get through it.”
Parker breathed deeply and stared down an unmovable Cole. Cole wouldn't leave without a promise from Parker. He made him give us his word that he would be OK for the night. As I backed my car away from the curb, Cole insisted we go straight to my parents.
My dad was as bleary as Parker had been when he came to the door. After apologizing for the late night intrusion, Cole went right into why we were there. He explained, in short concise sentences, his concerns for Parker based on his feedback. What concerned Cole most was the quickness with which Parker had answered the question about how he would do it. My dad sat quietly, listening, and occasionally nodding or asking a clarifying question.
All my doubts about Cole were gone. Over the last four years he had learned about grief, suicide, and spotting the signs of it. He told my dad he had taken classes to be a gatekeeper and had been trained to spot the signs of someone in crisis. He said Parker was in a dark place and needed to be watched. In the end my father agreed and assured Cole that Parker would be evaluated.
We left an hour later. On the way home Cole explained my new role to me. “This was all about him this whole time. I thought, when I saw you, you were my second chance. You know, you pray for things, you make deals with God when something like that happens, and I begged and begged for a second chance. When I saw you, I knew. I knew you were it. You were my second chance to get it right. I jumped right in. But it wasn't you. It was him.”
“I don't understand,” I said.
“It's the same thing that happened with me and Stacy, only I can stop him from going through with it.”
“It's not the same thing. You said she had problems before—he didn't.”
“Yes he did. Didn't you hear him? He got in trouble a lot in school. It's different with guys. It's a sign there's something going on with him. He won't talk about what happened when they were kids. He's got a lot going on inside him that could push him over the edge.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“I don't know for a hundred percent, but I'd rather be wrong than for him to be dead.”
“But don't people who are gonna do it find a way no matter what?”
“No, not always. There are lots who try and fail and come back to talk about what brought them to it. And ... there are people who were close, who can be talked down. You learn from them.”
“Where?”
“At trainings, at grief shares. They come in and talk to friends and family members who are dealing with the loss of a loved one.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“Survivors of suicide.”
“So you went to meetings to hear them?”
“Yeah.” He looked at me cautiously. “And I go to schools and talk about what I did, and about Stacy. It kind of keeps her alive.”
“It keeps your guilt alive.”
“It's fine,” he answered. “If it helps someone to understand the impact their choice has on everyone else around them; if it gets them help to get through it, or if someone else spots the signs in a friend, then it's worth it. I'd have the guilt anyway … might as well do something productive with it. And you need to be sure you're there for him.”
“I am there for him. That's why I can't be with you right now.”
“You need to be there more than you've been.”
I thought about our night in the hotel. Cole knew nothing about it. Was he implying I get with Parker? The man who was asking me to choose him hours before? The whole night, like every night since I found the two of them, was a whirlwind. I went from Cole making a case for me to be with him to him practically telling me to fall in love with Parker.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, and let go of my hand and put it on my lap. “Pick him.”
�
�What?!”
“We'll be friends, we'll see each other on the field, but I'm out.”
“What?!” I said again. I was shocked.
“He's been holding back for her, he doesn't have a reason to anymore. He needs you.”
“Cole ...” I said. It felt like a breakup again. I wanted him more than I realized I did, and with him stepping back it was clear who I picked. “You can't ... I mean ... I don't want you out.”
“Ahhh, see, beautiful—finally there's something you don't get to control with your game. I'm out. Be there for him.”
“What about us?”
“There is no us.”
“Cole?”
“Look,” he said. “We had our ride. I jumped the gun. I thought I knew what was going on.”
“You like me.”
“It doesn't matter. I'll give it up if it helps him.”
“You don't even know that he'll do anything like that.”
“I know the statistics, Tatum, and I know a desperate person when I see one. He's a ticking time bomb. One bad thing and he could go off.”
“Or he could power through it.”
“Why? What reason does he have to live? You know more about him than I do. He's got a broken family. No home to go to. His girl, the only girl he's ever loved, broke up with him and he just found out she's got another guy. You're the only thread of hope he's got left. You gotta be there for him. What I want doesn't matter compared to that.”
“How can you say that? You'll just let me go?”
“I don't want to, but I'm strong enough to live through it. I don't know if he is. It's been fun. You weren't sure about me anyway because of him.”
“I wasn't sure about you because of what happened between us. I wanted to know for sure you were different and wouldn't mess me over. And now I'm sure. The old you wouldn't have cared about Parker.”
“I tried to tell you. I'm not who I was. It'll be OK. I'm not going to say everything happens for a reason because there was no reason for Stacy to die, but it'll all work out. I'll be OK, you'll be OK, and you can make sure he's OK. OK?”
Once again, Cole Jackson had taken my heart from my chest and broken it. Only this time he was doing it so someone else's broken heart could survive. I didn't get it. It hurt so badly. I understood but didn't want it at the same time. Why, now that I didn't have a chance with him, was I one hundred percent sure of him? And what about Parker? What would it mean to make sure he was OK? Would I have to give up my game? If she was the only thing holding him back what would the future be like?
I lay in bed that night thinking over all the possibilities now that the possibilities had been reduced to one.
Justin Parker became my boyfriend two weeks later.
CHAPTER 22
PARKER WAS MAD at first, really mad—the next day his CO called him in and had him evaluated. He wasn't mad enough to stay away from me, though. Everything Cole said was true. He needed a reason to hang on and I was all he had. We spent even more time together after that because Cole refused to see me off the field. We talked and texted, but it wasn't like before. He asked about Parker frequently, told me questions to ask him, things to look out for. Parker was his project and I was the middleman between the two of them.
Then the season was over and Cole had to go. If everything lined up the same, he would be back next year. Another injury higher up or a scout or draft pick could change everything, though. I might never see him again outside of Facebook. I told Parker I wanted to say goodbye to Cole alone. I felt like I owed him that since we were officially dating. He let me. He wasn't jealous; at least, I don't think he was. He didn't talk much. He had sunk deep inside himself but he tried to be positive around me.
Cole and I met at the park by the cemetery. He brought subs again and we ate in silence.
“You take care of him.”
“I will,” I promised at the end. When he hugged me, I folded into him. It was so much different being wrapped up in his arms instead of Parker's. My cheek landed on his chest and I felt his lips on the top of my head.
“I'll never be able to smell lavender again and not think about you.” He smiled down at me.
“Better not forget about me.”
“Never,” he promised. And he was gone.
I wasn't unhappy with Parker; we had plenty of good times, and gradually he rolled out of his funk. We laughed again and started to talk about the future, never too far out, never more than me finishing my degree or his term ending. We had our favorite lake spot and bench and he wrote me songs after that. I never thought the notes had the same heart and feeling as hers did, but they were mine and I loved them because they belonged to me.
We became well acquainted with the luxuries first and second base had to offer but he wasn't in a hurry for third, and I didn't push because I wasn't either. There were so many unanswered questions. I wasn't convinced he loved me, or that I loved him. I guess I was afraid, too, that if I told him about the herpes it might shake him up. He was almost himself again, but it was still too early to drop that bomb. It was enough for him to know I had hard things to tell him before third base. I was sure I had time for that to come up.
I suspected he would not make a passionate run for third ... ever. My best guess was that February 11th would come like a walk with men on first and second and we would be forced to third. He would have no more hope that she was coming back and I would be his only alternative. Neither of us was getting any younger, or the types to be alone, so it would make sense to get engaged. He would ask and I would divulge my secret. If he still wanted me after that, which he probably would because his life sucked anyway, I would say yes. He was a good man and I already knew even a half-hearted love from him was better than what most men were willing to offer. We would plan a wedding we both pretended to be happier about than we actually were, and say “I do” only because it made sense, not because we felt it.
Every time I imagined our wedding, though, Cole always busted through the church doors and begged us to stop. He confessed he made a mistake in letting Parker have me, and promised that we would always be there for Parker, but that I belonged with him. I would cry and run to him. I didn't know why. I liked Parker. I probably loved him. I knew I would grow to love him in time. It was so weird—my whole life I was cursed with falling in love too soon with too many guys, but when I needed to love a guy the most, I couldn't even admit to myself that I loved him.
It wasn't fair. I wanted them to prove their love to me. I wanted Parker to fall madly in love with me and let her go. I wanted to be sure Cole was different. In the end, Parker did love me, but not enough, and Cole was different, but no longer an option. It wasn't the boys that ruined me; it was love. It was so much less romantic than what I wanted. Life took over my dreams and had to make everything make sense instead of feeling magical.
And then magic happened, just not for me.
Parker found her on Facebook because he never stopped looking. There were no hints of the other guy. I barely remembered what he had looked like, but she wasn't with anyone in any pictures she posted. Most of her pictures were of trees and home décor finds; apparently she liked to decorate. She ignored his friend requests but he started writing her again, furiously. I knew he never completely quit. I was sure he still had some February 11th deal with himself that he would write her until then. But when she popped up on there he started writing her weekly, sometimes more.
He pulled back from me, too, back to first base and then back to nothing at all, not even holding hands; nothing but friends. There was no grand announcement or anything like that, but his passion moved from me over to her. I never read the letters. I never wanted to. I knew he was lost to me. I understood but stayed close just in case things went bad, the way Cole feared. After rejecting Parker’s friend requests for months, Haylee finally accepted and it made Cole nervous. He was concerned that the buildup might make it worse if she let him down again and encouraged me to stick with him even though he was pulli
ng away.
Cole had started dating again, too. I pretended to be happy for him. I mean, I was with Parker. I had no reason not to be, and he deserved a girl in his life. I asked about the girls, who they were, and what they were like in the least jealous tone I could muster. I even tried to give him pointers, not that he needed any. Then one of them, Tina, stuck around. He tried to convince me, and himself, that she was just a girl, but I heard it in his voice when he started crushing on her. Before Haylee had even accepted Parker's friend request, Cole had a whole new second-chance theory. His new idea was that he would get a chance with someone brand new, who never knew the player he had been before Stacy. I bought it. He deserved it—he really was different. The whole time we were dating I was judging him, comparing him to what he had been before, and he had to constantly prove he was different. I was glad for him and his fresh start with someone less suspicious than me.
Within months my love life had gone from me having to choose between the two of them to the two of them ditching me for others. My game had failed me miserably and left me more hurt than I ever would have been without it. The final blow came that winter. Parker knocked on my door late one night to tell me she wanted him back. Haylee Howell, the girl of his dreams, finally wanted him back at long last and, lucky me, I was one of the few people he had to tell about it. How could I not be happy for him? He was getting his girl back. Never mind that I had spent the better part of four months trying, unsuccessfully, to fill the role myself. He hugged me and thanked me for being there for him through it all. He promised me that he would never forget me. I was happy to have been there for him. I was happy to have been his in-between girl.
As soon as he said goodbye, I set out to make a memory of Parker and put it in a special kind of bottle. It was a Merlot bottle, and I drank the whole thing alone in my room one night. Brett begged me to come out, but I insisted I was making the most of a bad memory the way mom taught us to.
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