I shook my head at myself and tried to feel that strength again. It was there still, it hadn’t left me. I had to get my act together and sort myself out. I owed it to my family to try. And to the friends who supported me. I supposed I also owed it to Amy, who had taken it upon herself to try to help me. The last two days weren’t part of her job. I knew when people were doing things for money and I could tell the difference with her.
When she kissed me that was real. It was probably the most real kiss I’d ever had, because I’d never been with a woman like that. I guessed the term was decent.
I needed to leave this place and go home. I needed to take hold of my life and do better to get it back on track. To do that I needed Amy, so I hoped like hell she came back tomorrow. If she didn’t I’d find out where she lived and apologize.
I started the car up, but then turned it off again when I remembered all that I’d drank. I wasn’t drunk, but I’d definitely get arrested if the cops pulled me over.
I got out of the jeep, cleared it of all the empty cans of beer and bottles of wine, then decided to head home. It would be a very long walk, well over two hours. But I’d take that time to think and plan out how I was going to move my life forward.
It was time to do something different.
* * *
Amy
* * *
I only came back because the police called me.
No, I had to be honest with myself. I was already heading out the door with the intention to come back when they called me. Despite the horrible encounter I had with Josh this morning, I’d decided to gear myself up and see how he was. I’d put it down to just wanting to know how I should prepare myself for tomorrow.
Truthfully, I wanted to make sure he was okay.
Then the police called me to let me know they’d found his Range Rover parked near Dead Man’s Gorge. I asked where that was, hoping it was some kind of dare-devil place or something, but deep down knew it couldn’t have been a good place.
When the officer confirmed my worries, my heart shattered and I wished I hadn’t left Josh. Despite his rage I wished I didn’t leave.
I hadn’t known Josh very long, but it would break my heart if he did something to himself, and it was looking very likely that he had.
The police found the Range Rover parked a few feet away from the edge. That sounded pretty bad to me.
It was six o’clock now. I’d been here for a few hours, sitting with Hilda in Josh’s living room. We were waiting to hear from the police.
I had called Hilda and Corey because they were the only people I had to contact. Corey was with the police. He went just in case he needed to…
Well, in case he needed to identify Josh’s body. A tear ran down my cheek at the horrific thought.
“Hey. Don’t cry, chica. We don’t know what’s happened,” Hilda offered, resting her hand on mine.
“It doesn’t look good, Hilda.”
“I know. How about I go get us some stuff at the shop? Like ice cream, or something to cheer us both up,” she offered with a small smile.
I nodded, only agreeing because poor Hilda had done everything she could to make me feel better and I knew she was just trying to help in the way she felt she could.
I probably needed a moment to myself anyway. Just to process what was going on.
As Hilda left the room, I leaned forward onto my elbows and held my head in my hands.
What an absolute mess. These last few months had been so up and down that I didn’t even know if I was coming or going. First Mom, then leaving my job in New York, and now Josh.
Weakness ached my body and sapped what little energy I had left away from me. It was as if I’d lived a hundred lifetimes in these short months. So much had happened in a very little space of time and I always had to be alert and ready for the next thing life planned to throw at me. There really was only so much a person could take and this waiting was torture. It made me feel worse for my lack of compassion towards Josh during the time I’d been here.
He must have felt so bad about himself to go to that place and…
I lifted my head as I heard the front door open.
Footsteps that weren’t Hilda’s sounded on the floorboards in the passage way. As far as I knew no one else had keys to the house. I stood as the footsteps came closer. My heart slammed at the sight of him, then soared within my chest when Josh walked into the living room.
Relief washed over me in waves and to such an intensity that it brought fresh tears to my eyes. He stopped by the standing lamp near the wall when he saw me and bit the inside of his lip. Josh looked terrible. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look so bad. Bloodshot eyes looked back at me, overpowering the unusual mix of color that always fascinated me. The stubble on his face and the redness of his skin gave him a haggard, worn-down appearance. This wasn’t the Josh I knew. My first reaction was to rush over to him and hug him, because I was so happy to see him and so happy he didn’t do something to himself. However, as the urge to hug him lifted, I instantly remembered our run in this morning and I felt like I’d imposed on him again, stepping so far over the line that it was beginning to look inappropriate. Especially when he outrightly told me not to come back till tomorrow.
Then I felt annoyance at the conflict of emotions, and at him.
“I’m sorry I’m here. I thought something happened to you.” I grabbed my bag from the sofa. “Why were you at Dead Man’s Gorge? You know what, don’t tell me.” I shook my head. It was fine, I didn’t need to know. He didn’t have to tell me, and most likely wouldn’t from the way he spoke to me this morning. More tears ran down my cheeks and I wanted to leave before I broke down again. “I’m just leaving now. Please don’t scream at me and remind me that I don’t get paid to care. I’ll see you at nine a.m. tomorrow morning.” I could barely say the words.
He caught my arm as I tried to rush past him.
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Baby, please don’t leave me. Stay,” he said in a soft voice I’d never heard before. He held my gaze and caught the tear that ran down my cheek. “Amy. Please stay. I’m sorry. We’re not at work now. This is just us.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
He took my hand into his, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it.
“No.” He shook his head. “You aren’t. I was completely out of line to speak to you the way I did this morning. I didn’t mean it. Please…stay with me.”
I’d gotten to know this man so well over the last few weeks. In all that time, I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look more guilty or more in need. I nodded and tried to calm myself. I followed as he led me back to the sofa and sat me down. I thought he would sit next to me , but instead he surprised me further by kneeling before me .
“I’m really sorry about this morning.”
“It’s okay.”
He shook his head and took my hands into his again. It was odd, it felt so natural for him to touch me and hold my hands. As if we’d been like this for a lifetime.
“It’s not okay, baby.” And that, calling me baby. That felt natural too.
He looked down at where our hands joined, and when he looked back at me, my heart broke as I watched his eyes fill with tears.
“Today’s my sister’s birthday,” he managed. “She was an angel, just like you. She would have been thirty-three years old today, and because of me she’s not here anymore.”
I pulled in a breath as I looked at him and listened.
“Josh. You can’t believe that.”
He nodded. “It’s my fault. My fault my mother and my sister aren’t here anymore. My fault.”
My heart clenched as I beheld the pitiful sight of him, and I leaned forward to touch his face.
“Josh. It’s not your fault.” I felt bad again that I hadn’t considered that he might blame himself for his mother and sister’s deaths.
“They were coming to see me. They were coming to watch the game because I insisted. I just thought tha
t it would be a big one because we’d won the Super Bowl two years in a row. I didn’t want them to miss it. I didn’t know that meant never seeing them again.”
As he sobbed I slid down to the floor in front of him and put my arms around him so I could hold him. He held me, too, really held me as if for support.
“It’s not your fault, Josh. You’ll be able to one day, but until then you can’t blame yourself.” That was the best that I could tell him.
He pulled away and looked at me. “It’s so hard.”
“I know, but you can do it.”
He sighed and looked away, over to the window as the curtains blew out against the evening breeze. Josh then returned his gaze to me and took hold of both my hands. “I need to stop drinking, but I think I need help. And I need you. I need you. I can’t do any of this without you.” That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. “If you hadn’t gotten me to the show on Friday, they would have cut me from the team. They wouldn’t have wanted to, but they would have had to. That would have been the end of my career.”
I’d never met this version of him before. Seeing him like this made me care even more, and I wanted to help him in whatever way I could.
“You have me.” I smiled and leaned into him as he pulled me within the warmth of his embrace.
“Thank you,” he whispered against my hair as he rested his head against mine.
* * *
Josh
* * *
It was time to face reality.
Time to face the music, as people said.
I spoke with Amy for a long time last night. Then there was all the stuff with the police. Corey came by, furious with me for putting me through hell because he thought that he’d been with the police for the sole purpose of identifying my body if they found me at the bottom of Dead Man’s Gorge.
I had never seen Corey look so mad, and so worried. When he first came in he shoved me hard in my shoulder and looked like he’d knock me out. Then he ranted on about the way I was living and said that no later than this week he’d arrange for me to see a therapist. It was only when I agreed quickly that Corey calmed down.
When Corey and Hilda left, I asked Amy to stay because the real test for me was resisting any form of drink. Amy had gotten rid of everything in the house, but around these parts alcohol was always available somewhere, and there were always people eager to please the Mancini Machine.
I was grateful when she agreed, and even more grateful when she managed to talk to me as if nothing had happened. She got me talking about football and that distracted me from my routine of drowning myself in my toxic mixture of drinks and concourse of women.
I was determined to change now. Now more than ever.
I wanted to play football again, and I wanted to be the best. I wanted to be the man my family was proud of when they came to watch my games.
I wanted to be Joshua Mancini again.
To do that there was one thing I had to make myself do first. That was to go to the cemetery.
I woke up early. Amy was still downstairs asleep on the sofa. I’d felt bad that she didn’t go home last night and I should have at the least taken her up to the guest room. But she’d fallen asleep there and I didn’t want to wake her. I felt she’d been through enough for the day so I got her a blanket and covered her up.
I wouldn’t wake her now, either. She’d woken up early enough for me over the last few weeks. So, I left her a note then packed a few things to make the long journey to San Francisco. Corey had arranged to get my Range Rover back for me. I was grateful for that.
I made it there in good time, despite the back up of traffic on the road.
There was a morning funeral being conducted when I entered the grounds and the grief-stricken faces of the family reminded me of the mourners at Mom and Clarissa’s funeral.
I looked away and continued along the path to where they were.
I hated anything like this. I hated the morbid setting, the feeling. Everything. There were no good feelings here. Only what used to be.
People who used to be.
I had always hated cemeteries as a child and thought they were a sure place to be haunted. Not much could scare me, but ghost stories always did the job. My first funeral, at age ten, was my grandmother’s. My mother’s mother. That had been terrible. It was also a wakeup call to me, letting me see that people I knew could die. But nothing was as devastating as when my mother and sister were killed.
Nothing.
As I approached the site, I stopped and looked at their headstones. Clarissa’s grave had two beautiful bouquets of oriental lilies. They would be from Dad and Pete. I placed mine down next to theirs, and on my mother’s grave I rested the long-stemmed yellow roses I brought for her.
I then sat on the bench nearby and gazed ahead at their graves.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been since the last time,” I told them. Then I started talking about everything that had happened since.
I spent the whole day there and left just before it turned dark. It occurred to me to visit Dad but I felt I’d take one step at a time. I desperately wanted to see him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it today.
That would be my next big thing, and I promised myself I’d do it soon.
My drinking problem was the demon I wanted to focus on taking down. I didn’t know how long these things took, but I wanted to get myself together and ready for training.
It was late when I got back. Amy would have already left and so would Hilda. I did notice one person, though, who was well overdue my attention.
The boy who constantly watched my house sat on the pavement across the street in front of the Spencer’s house. He wore the same football t-shirt with my player number and name like he did every time I saw him. In the past I had driven by, completely ignoring him. I wouldn’t today.
“Hey kid,” I called out.
The boy lifted his head and instant excitement brightened his face.
“Come here,” I beckoned him over. The boy ran over with his football tucked under his arm.
“What are you doing out here so late?” It was just after seven.
“Trying to get my chance to see you, sir.”
It shouldn’t have come to this. This boy had been coming by for a long time, standing outside with the hope to see me.
“What’s your name?”
“Riley, sir. I want to be just like you one day. You’re the best.” Riley made my day. People told me that a lot but it was good to hear it from someone who looked at me with such aspiration.
“Thank you. I appreciate that. Do you live close by?”
“I live in Mount Ridge.” The boy beamed. That was about a thirty-minute walk from here. I felt even worse. “My mom’s friend, Hilda, lives on the same block as me.”
The boy knew Hilda. There was another person I had treated badly. Unlike the other maids I’d had, I just treated her as if she was non-existent.
“Let me walk you home, son.”
His mouth dropped. “Really, you’d do that?”
“Sure, then we can talk about football. You can tell me about your training.”
His little face fell. “Oh…I don’t train at the moment. I had to stop because my mom couldn’t afford it.”
“Well we’ll have to do something about that, then, won’t we. How about we start tomorrow?” I could make time.
Riley gasped and his eyes grew wide. “You’d train me!” He shrieked.
“Sure.” I nodded and smiled. “Come on, kid. Don’t want your mom and Hilda to get mad at me for having you out so late.”
As we started talking I felt good about myself.
Today was just the first day, the first step in the direction I wanted to go, but I felt good about myself.
When I got back home I prepared myself for night two without a drink. Tonight would be the real test as there was no Amy to keep me distracted with her words and her beauty.
On instinct I went straight
into the living room, turned on the CD player, and popped in one of Clarissa’s relaxation collections. The first piece to come up was the “Thais Meditation”. I then grabbed one of her old poetry books and started reading.
If any of my friends saw me now they would laugh me to scorn, but this was what helped in the past when I needed to relax, clear my mind, and think.
So maybe it would help again.
Chapter 13
Amy
* * *
The melodious tune of violin music filled the house as I stepped in. I recognized it as Bach’s Partita No. 2. I’d gotten into classical music a lot when I was in college. My roommate played the cello and always dragged me along to her concerts. The music always calmed me and filled me with inspiration. I actually liked listening to it as I created my designs.
I never expected to hear it playing in Josh’s house, and he had it on just loud enough for it to create that ambient relaxation you’d feel when you went to watch the opera, ballet, or listen to an orchestra.
Josh was in the living room sitting in the armchair with a low fire going in the antique fireplace. It was just like the vision I had when I first saw this room. Josh was reading a book. He looked tired but a hundred times better than on Sunday.
His lips slid up into an easy smile when he saw me enter. I walked over and stood a few paces away from him.
“Hi.” He gave me a warm smile.
“Hey.” I returned the smile and gazed into the openness of his enchanting eyes. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I think so.”
“I love the music.”
“It’s my sister’s compilation. It’s all the pieces she performed to.”
He’d told me all about his mother and sister on Sunday. It was difficult for him to talk at first but then he did. I was intrigued to hear all that they’d done, and truly impressed. More than anything I was thoroughly captivated by the way he spoke about them. His eyes brightened and his face lit up with pride. Just like it did now. That must have meant that yesterday’s visit to the cemetery had helped him in some way.
Play of Love: The Gladiator Players Box Set Page 13
