Playing the Game

Home > Other > Playing the Game > Page 18
Playing the Game Page 18

by JL Paul


  And when was the last time Jess said something that he hadn’t meant? that little voice asked. Snorting, I ticked points off my finger. The time he said we couldn’t be in a relationship but then claimed I was his woman. I strained to think of other times and couldn’t remember anything.

  I’m changing and so is he, I realized. We both are.

  Sighing, I drew in a deep breath, wiping the tears away. He’d forced me to try things and to spread my wings. He made me realize that my life didn’t have to revolve around music and that I was in charge of it – not my mother. And even though I was still a little lost at what to do with myself, I knew for certain that I loved him and didn’t ever want to live without him again.

  I actually twiddled my thumbs for a couple seconds before pouncing from the bed and heading for the door. I pulled it open and stumbled toward the guest room. Peeking inside, I frowned when I found it empty. Certainly he hadn’t left the house? No, there were other bedrooms - he had to be in one of them.

  The sound of the television distracted me from my search. I changed course to head to the living room. I stopped in my tracks when I spotted Jess’s long legs draped over the arm of the sofa and the TV flashing a blue light on the walls. I shook my hair out of my face, pulled my shoulders back, and marched into the room. I positioned myself in front of the TV and waited for him to speak.

  The pillow he’d pilfered from the bed was nestled under his head along with his right arm. His left arm rested on his stomach, the remote control clutched in his hand. His lazy gaze ran over me. “You’re blocking my view.”

  “Okay, Jess,” I snapped. “Let’s hash this out.”

  “After the news,” he said, waving me away. “I want to see the sports scores.”

  I snatched the remote out of his hand and clicked off the TV. I slammed the remote on the table and rested my hands on my hips. “No, not after the news. Now.”

  He tilted his head and smirked. “Bossy, aren’t we?” He slid his legs off the couch, sitting up with a lifted brow. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

  My jaw fell – I had no control over it – and my eyes nearly jumped from my face. I couldn’t believe he could sit there so nonchalantly and ask why I was upset.

  “Was I the only one in the room a few minutes ago?” I demanded.

  He rolled his eyes, smirk still toying with his lips. “So, what, you came out here to make wedding plans or were you just coming to inform me that you’re moving out?”

  I’d forgotten he knew just exactly how to ruffle my feathers. I had to take a couple deep breaths before I could speak.

  “I came here to talk to you.”

  “So talk,” he said. Amusement sparkled in his eyes, infuriating me. Where had his anger and frustration gone? Had he dismissed our argument that easily? Did it not matter to him that I was on the verge of the biggest decision of my life?

  “I…aren’t you…still…mad?” I stammered.

  He lifted a shoulder, eyes still on me. “What’s the point? Sure, I was mad, but it didn’t solve anything, did it?”

  “I…er…well…no,” I stuttered, still not able to form a coherent sentence. My anger was evaporating only to be replaced by uncertainty.

  “So I’m not mad. You’re obviously not ready to make a decision and it’s wrong of me to try to push you,” he said so simply I wondered if maybe we’d blown the entire thing out of proportion.

  “But why did you storm out of the room with a pillow?” The words sounded totally ridiculous as soon as they left my mouth but it was much too late to call them back.

  He laughed and my anger returned. “I wanted to get comfortable on the couch and watch the sports scores before I came to bed.”

  My burning eyes made me wish that I could shoot razors from them. My hand itched to slap him so I clenched it into a tight fist to ward off temptation.

  “You made me think you were mad at me.”

  “Well, I was, a little,” he admitted. “So I came out here to cool off.” He got to his feet and took my hand, lifting it to his lips. “I’m sorry, Aubrey Rose. I shouldn’t have put pressure on you like that.”

  “It’s…um…okay,” I said, feeling incredibly more stupid each time my mouth opened. I decided to take a tiny step back, metaphorically, and clear my mind. I needed to tell him how I was feeling and I needed to do it right. I couldn’t stammer or blurt out the wrong words. I needed to be clear and concise.

  “Jess, I do love you and I do want to marry you.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I guess I just worried that… well you said you were drunk.”

  He laughed again and my heart lifted. He placed his hands on my hips and tugged me closer, brushing his lips against mine. “What if I told you that I already bought a ring a few days ago? When I was sober?”

  My stomach flopped and I froze. I opened my mouth to utter something – anything – but words wouldn’t come. They’d stuck to the roof of my mouth like soft bread. I swallowed several times. “You, uh, have a ring?”

  His smirk grew to Olympic size. “I do.”

  I knew I should be angry at his lackadaisical attitude but I couldn’t summon the energy. Besides, I was simply astounded that he’d actually bought a ring. And I really wanted to see it.

  “So, you do want to marry me? You’re not saying it because you’ve been drinking?”

  “Damn it, Aubrey Rose,” he said without a hint of annoyance. “When have I ever, drunk or sober, said something I didn’t mean?”

  Before I could answer, he kissed me and my resolve wavered.

  “I don’t want to be taken care of, Jess,” I mumbled.

  “I know,” he said with an over-exaggerated eye roll. “I kind of thought you’d take care of me.”

  A hysterical giggle escaped my lips and I didn’t exactly know what I was feeling. I looked into the eyes I adored.

  “I’m a little scared,” I whispered.

  “I’ll be gentle,” he assured in mock sincerity. I laughed again, hollowly. “Listen, I understand you’re finally living your own life and that doesn’t have to stop. You can go to school, work, whatever. I’m not going to stand in your way.”

  “Why?” I prodded. “Why are you so intent on getting married?”

  “Is that what’s stopping you from agreeing?” he asked. I nodded, a little shy. He released me and took a step back. “When I was on that last road trip, I saw Kendra and Troy together and I was actually,” he shrugged, “jealous.”

  My heart was on its last straw. It couldn’t take much more. How the hell could Jess be jealous of anyone? And did he only want me because he only wanted what Troy and Kendra had? Or was I thinking too much?

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is that I wanted you there with me. I missed you.” He released an agonizing breath and ran a hand through his already messy hair. “At first I thought I just wanted you there because most of the guys have their wives or girlfriends there but then I realized that that wasn’t true. I wanted you there. And it shocked me and pissed me off. I mean, who the hell were you to do that to me? Yeah, I love you and all but I didn’t think it was that deep.”

  He must have read the hurt on my face because he reached for me and drew me to his body.

  “Aubrey, I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean that I finally got that slap in the face that made me see how much I loved you and how bad I wanted this thing between us to be permanent. Then the accident happened and you flew out to be with me. When I saw you in the hospital room, crying because I’d been hurt and you were worried, I knew it was time. So when we got back in town, I went out and bought a ring. I planned to give it to you that night. I wasn’t planning anything … mushy or anything. But I wanted it to be nice.” He frowned a bit. “Then your mom called.”

  My poor, abused heart stopped. “I’m sorry, Jess.”

  “Nah,” he said. “It wasn’t a big deal. But it did screw things up. So, I been trying to figure out what
to do and I decided to come home tonight and just ask. Sorry it wasn’t eloquent but you know me.”

  I did know him. And I loved him. I couldn’t refuse. He was my life – the rest was just minor details I’d work out sooner or later. With him.

  I stood on my toes and kissed him. “I’ll marry you, Jess. Whenever you want.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Sitting in my parents' driveway, I tapped on the steering wheel, desperate to control the hyperventilating that threatened to take my lungs hostage. I leaned back in the seat and twirled the diamond Jess had placed on my finger the night before, mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of brilliant light smacking the interior of the car.

  “Just do it you big sissy,” I breathed, staring at the house.

  I grabbed the door handle and applied slight pressure. As if I was in slow motion, I opened the door and stepped out of the car. I slammed it shut before I could give in to temptation and hopped back in. I ambled up the walk and pressed the bell, twiddling my thumbs.

  They had to home – where else could they be? But they were certainly taking their time answering the door. Unless they’d gone out for dinner. Or shopping?

  “Aubrey? Why are you ringing the bell?” my father asked as he stood in the doorway. “Just come inside.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I smiled. I kissed his scratchy cheek and shuffled nervously to the living room. “Um, is Mom here?”

  “No,” he answered slowly as he gestured toward the sofa. I sat. “She ran out to pick up a pizza. She should be back soon.”

  “Oh,” I said, losing my nerve. I clasped my hands together and drew inspiration from my ring. Straightening, I smiled weakly at my father. “So, guess what, Dad? I’m engaged!”

  His jaw fell but his face brightened like the sunrise on the horizon. “Really now? To Jess, I hope?”

  I giggled. “Of course.”

  I showed him my ring and he admired it properly, kissing my hand and giving it a squeeze.

  “Are you happy, Aubrey? I mean, really happy?”

  “I am, I promise,” I said. I described what I’d been doing since I’d stormed out of the house and he nodded.

  “I knew some of it,” he admitted. “I talked to Gwen. I wanted to call you myself but I thought you might want a little space.”

  “I appreciate it, Dad, but I wasn’t running from you. Or Mom.” I swallowed and studied the meticulous carpet. “I guess I was running from myself. Or toward myself – whatever metaphorical phrase you want to use.”

  “Are you enjoying college?” he asked, sitting on the edge of his recliner. “And your job?”

  A good question and one I’d been asking myself since I sat down for my first lecture.

  “I like my job, a lot,” I started. I explained the different things Jon had me doing in great detail. I’d learned quite a bit already and Jon raved constantly how quick I was to pick up on things. “And he’s going to teach me the ropes in the sound room next week.”

  My father nodded, queer smile on his face. He scooted back and scratched his temple with his index finger. “Sounds like you found your niche in the world.”

  I gaped at him, certain I resembled a goldfish in a bowl, as I digested his comment. Maybe I had found my place. Maybe I was meant for music. Jon was so happy with how well I was doing that he hardly pestered me about recording. And to be perfectly honest, I did sort of miss singing. But I was determined to at least give college a try and since I’d already paid for the semester, I wanted to finish it. I’d decide then if I wanted to continue.

  “You know,” my dad said, as though reading my thoughts, “life wasn’t meant to be decided at once. That’s part of being human; you decide as you go along. Sure, it might make life easier if you have everything mapped out ahead of time – but it can also make it pretty dull.”

  I smiled at him and sat on the arm of his chair to give him a hug. “How come you never offered me this advice before?”

  His face flushed as he sputtered. “Well, I guess I’m just the strong, silent type.”

  We both laughed as my mother walked through the door, steaming pizza in her hands. The room fell quiet as she stood, gawking at me.

  “Aubrey Rose,” she said stiffly. She hurried to the kitchen and I groaned, rising to follow.

  She dropped the pizza on the table and opened the cabinet to fetch three plates. “You’ll stay and eat, won’t you?”

  “I’m not really hungry, but thanks,” I mumbled. I watched as she put one plate away and tossed a couple slices on another. She carried the plate to my father, along with a can of soda, and returned to glare at me.

  “So, you’ve decided to finally return my call in person? Or did…Jess…not give you my message?”

  I swallowed as I grabbed the back of a chair. “He gave me the message. I just…I didn’t know what to say.”

  She sucked in a breath and I jerked my head up to catch such a look of astonishment on her face, I was clueless to what caused her reaction.

  “Mom? Are you okay?”

  “You…” she stammered, pointing at my hands. “Is that an engagement ring?”

  “Oh,” I flushed, tucking my left hand into my right. “Yeah. Um, Jess asked me to marry him.”

  “And you said yes?” she accused, face devoid of all color. “You’re going to throw your life away for that man?”

  “I love him,” I yelled. “Why can’t you see that? He loves me, too.”

  “So he says,” she continued. “He’ll use you then turn you loose, just watch.”

  “He won’t,” I said, voice shaking but growing in volume. “And so what if he does! It is my life, Mother. Not yours. Why don’t you let me live it for a change?”

  I pushed at the chair, emitting a frustrated groan, and headed for the door. I was determined to leave before I said something else I would regret.

  “Wait, Aubrey,” she said. I stopped but didn’t face her. I didn’t want to see the hurt on her face - I’d probably collapse at her feet. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. We’ll talk about this.”

  I took a couple of deep breaths before nodding and returning to the table. She pulled out a chair and sat, indicating I should do the same.

  We both studied the pizza in the box, slowing losing its warmth. Its smell wafted to my nostrils and nauseated my stomach. I longed for Jess, wishing he were here to hold my hand, but knowing it was for the best that I was alone. Not only would he probably open his mouth and make things worse, but I needed to do this on my own. It was between me and my mother, anyway.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Mom,” I said, anxious to break the tension hovering over us as thick as fog. “I just didn’t know what I wanted out of life. I wanted to try other things.”

  “And have you?” she asked, the edge in her voice only slight. “Have you found something you’d like to do?”

  I lifted a shoulder, eyes still on the slimy mushrooms on my father’s half of the pizza. “I’m taking a few college classes but I’m not sure that’s for me.” I glanced at her briefly but she was avoiding eye contact just as fiercely as I was. “And I got a job working for Jonathan Spitzer. I’m working in his studio.”

  That was all it took to get her to look at me. Her eyes sparkled. “Really? Are you going to sign with him after all?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. I told her about the conversation I’d had with Jon and the hope continued to grow in her eyes. “But I might not do it, Mom. I might decide to stay behind the scenes.”

  She clamped her mouth shut, though I could see the questions and suggestions lurking in her eyes. “Okay, Aubrey Rose. If that makes you happy.”

  “So far it has.”

  I watched as my mother gave a deep, shuddering sigh and appeared to shrink before my eyes. A couple stray tears streaked rebelliously down her face and I had to suck back my own emotions.

  “Oh, Aubrey. I just wanted you to have what I never did.” She swiped at her cheeks and I wanted to wrap my arms around her and agree to whatever she w
anted. I hated to see her in such pain but I knew if I gave in, we’d go right back to square one. “Maybe I wanted it more than you.”

  Her voice softened toward the end but I heard every word as if she’d shouted it from the mountains.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Mom, but I just need a chance to live a little. I just need to see what else there is to life.”

  She crumbled before my eyes and I panicked, not sure what I should do. My fists clenched as her head fell to her arms crossed on the table. I heard her muffled sobs and looked around frantically, hoping an answer would appear from thin air.

  “I pushed Gwen away and I pushed you away,” she said, lifting her puffy face. My heart shattered at the pain in her eyes. “I never meant it to happen, honestly, I just wanted a better life for you girls.”

  I could stand it no longer as my own tears escaped. I made my way around the table and fell beside her, throwing my arms around her shoulders. “I know that. I do know.”

  She patted my cheek with a watery smile. “I need to deal with this, Aubrey. I need to figure out how I screwed things up and fix them.” She drew in a deep breath and uncharacteristically wiped her face on her sleeve. “I’m going to be a grandmother and there’s going to be a wedding. I need to fix things.”

  “You will,” I said, eager to please again.

  She smiled but it immediately slipped into a thoughtful frown. “You’re a talented girl, Aubrey Rose. Very talented. I was most certain you’d be number one on all the charts. I just wanted to support you like I’d never been supported.”

  I understood completely, but I just couldn’t make her understand my point of view. And I didn’t think I’d be able to tonight, either. I didn’t think I had the energy, anyway. “Mom, I…”

  “No, Aubrey Rose, don’t explain. You don’t have to. I’ve been thinking…realizing.”

  My heart seized and I was desperate to rip the pain from her face. “Mom, it’s okay.”

  “It’s not,” she said, brushing my arms away. She got to her feet and stood before the sink. “When you left, I was angry. No, I was angry before that. I was mad because you allowed Jess Rivers back into your life. I couldn’t believe you would after the way he hurt you but he showed up at the show.” She whirled around and her lips twitched. “The way he looked at you. And the song you sang. I knew you loved him and he loved you.” She bowed her head in defeat. “And I knew he was taking you from me. I lost Gwen early and I held on to you so tightly, I know I suffocated you. I guess it took you leaving – that and a long talk with your father – for me to realize what I was doing.”

 

‹ Prev