by B. A. Wolfe
“Calm down, all right?” His deep voice softened, but it didn’t help. “I can explain.”
“Okay then, explain.”
“I stole it from the Bradley’s,” he said as if it were one word, forced out quickly.
My eyelids popped open. “You did what?” I put the phone on speaker so Mel could hear better.
“Listen, Cass. They aren’t even celebrating, let alone decorating.” He released a deep sigh into the phone and my throat grew tight. “They lost their son. Someone has to put that ornament up, and it needs to be someone that loved him. Please, for Jase, for me, for Trish and Bart.”
Without thinking, I handed Mel the phone and grabbed the ornament in my trembling hand. For Jase, for Moose, for Trish, and for Bart. I had to do it. If not for me, then for them.
“Okay, Moose. I’ll put it up. It’s beautiful and I’ll make sure to keep it safe.” I hugged it tightly to my chest.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I did what I did, but I didn’t feel right not sendin’ it. I’ll be up to visit you girls in a few days. How’s the belly?”
I glanced down at my baby bump and then up at Mel’s smile. “Good. Hungry, as usual.”
“Glad to hear. Merry Christmas, Cass.”
“Merry Christmas, Moose.”
“Oh and tell that stubborn roomie of yours Merry Christmas for me.”
A grin played on my lips as I watched Mel roll her eyes. “I will. Promise.”
We said our goodbyes and the phone went silent.
After Mel set up our scrawny tree, she stood next to me. The only thing that would decorate it was the ornament in my hand. It encompassed all things Jase and slowly continued to squeeze my heart, but it wouldn’t be right if he wasn’t allowed this. I gently hung the cowboy ornament on the biggest branch and stepped back to admire it. Mel wrapped her arm around me and pulled me close.
“To Jase,” she said softly, a few sniffles escaping her.
“Green Light, Jase,” I said, letting the tears trail down my cheeks.
Letting Go
PART ONE
“LIVING”
“We just always have to prepare for the worst but hope for the best.” ~ Jase
One
14 Years Old
“MRS. BENNETT LOVED MY SCIENCE PROJECT. I think I got an A!” I gloated, sharing the news of my day while we had dinner.
“That’s great, sweetie,” Mom gushed, while pouring dressing over her salad.
Dad ruffled the hair on my head. “I’m proud of you. Was this the weather station you worked on?”
I nodded. I had spent hours on that thing. “Yeah. I even got it to do—” A loud ringing throughout the house stopped me.
My mom jumped up to answer it. My dad clapped my brother, Dan, on the shoulder. I let the rest of my story go and grinned over at Dan. We all knew it was another scout calling. Every time the phone rang, it was one of them wanting to recruit Dan, to sign him onto their college’s team.
We lived in a small-ass town, so the fact that my brother was being scouted was flipping huge, which meant sometimes my life was put on the back burner. But it didn’t bother me. I was damn proud of my big brother. He was my idol. He even taught me how to throw a perfect spiral.
“University of Colorado, Dan,” Mom squealed, covering the receiver with her hand. “They want to meet with you!”
My heart jumped into my throat and my brother grinned, stuffing another bite of steak into his mouth. He’d worked so hard for this, and even though I’d miss him when he left, I was so happy for him. At least we still had the year to hang out, even though it was football season. Meaning he’d be watched and filmed at every game from here until the championships. I made a mental note to have him sign my football. One day that thing was gonna be worth something.
“This is it, son.” Dad beamed like the proudest father in the world. “You better prepare yourself for a lot of life changes.” Dad shook his head in disbelief, tears lining his lower lids. “Can you believe it? The University of Colorado! I’m so proud of you, Dan.”
“I could be a Buffalo,” Dan muttered, as if he couldn’t believe it was happening either.
I could though. I believed it; in fact, they’d be stupid not to want him. Not only did he tear it up on the field, but he made good grades, too. I lifted in my seat and reached across the table, holding my palm in the air with the biggest smile on my face. Dan smirked and high-fived me. Dad just laughed.
Mom hung up the phone and rushed back to her seat. We all soaked in what she had to say. Dan actually even stopped eating so he could listen. That never happened. Mom had set up an interview for Coach Buck from Keaton High and Dan to meet with the university. This was huge.
Once dinner was over, I got up and collected the empty plates. Dan and I always did the dishes after dinner. It was our responsibility. He grabbed our salad bowls and brought them over to the sink as I filled it up with soapy water.
“As much as I’m gonna miss you, Dan, I’m really excited for you.”
He chuckled and nudged my shoulder. “I couldn’t do this without you. You know that, right?”
“What? That’s crazy. How have I helped?” My jaw went slack. How did he need me for football?
His brow furrowed. “Uh, yeah. Really.” He grabbed the plate from my hand and dried it. “Why would you even doubt that?” He set the dish aside and I shrugged. I was just his brother. I wasn’t his coach. “You’re the reason I play so hard. I want to get this scholarship for you.”
I blinked, scrubbing the plate as if it was caked in dried mud. “I don’t get it, Dan.”
He chuckled and snatched the super-clean dish from me. “Whatever you decide to do in life, whatever college you choose, I want to make sure Mom and Dad have the money to send you. You deserve the world, Jason. I just want to make sure you get that chance.”
I loved my brother and I knew he loved me but until that moment right then, I didn’t realize how much.
“And I want you to have a big brother you look up to.”
I already did though. Couldn’t he see that? Before I could answer, Dad bellowed Dan’s name from down the hall.
“Yeah, Dad?” Dan called over his shoulder.
“Let’s go practice. Still got an hour of daylight left. Come throw some pigskin with your pop. Grab Jason, too. Let’s go, boys!”
Dan looked down at the wet dish in his hands and then at me. “We’ll be out in a minute. We’re just finishing up the dishes.”
“Come on, boys, the night is still young,” Dad shouted.
The man wasn’t going to give up. And as much as I wanted to go play with them, I didn’t want to be doing dishes later tonight. I’d take one for the team. They’d be out there for a while anyway.
“It’s okay, man. Go ahead. I got this.”
“No way, let’s finish,” he said, like it wasn’t up for argument.
“You’re so stubborn.” I laughed under my breath. “Just go. I’ll be fine.”
A heavy exhale released from his lips. “Okay, okay.” The plate went over to me, to my waiting hands. “You’re coming out when you’re done, right?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
His grin spread wide. “Good, ‘cause Dad is a terrible wide receiver.”
“Better not tell him, or he’ll be at your practices trying to get better.” I chuckled and then my smile faded as a strange pain passed through my stomach. I grabbed it and winced.
All traces of humor drained from Dan’s face. “You okay?”
I dunked a plate into the water the minute the pain passed, glad it was gone. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Dan was a worrier, but I wasn’t.
“Just making sure.” He tapped the counter, waiting a few seconds like he wanted to say something more, then nodded again and sprinted for the door.
Twenty minutes later, I had the dishes washed, dried, and ready for the cabinets. Man, I wished we had a dishwasher instead of me. Shaking my head, I took a stack of dinner plates and
lifted them to the top shelf. Another pain rippled through my stomach as I steadied back on my feet. It wasn’t much but enough to make me take notice. Ugh. Must have been something I ate.
I held my side and contemplated rushing to the bathroom or waiting until I was done with the dishes.
“You okay, sweetie?” Mom asked, coming up behind me, scaring me half to death.
I cleared my throat and straightened my spine. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Hell, Dan was man enough to handle some stomach pains, and Dad would think I was a pansy if I just abandoned everything to deal with a little upset stomach, so I’d finish. They weren’t that bad anyway.
“Okay, I’ll be outside watching the boys. You coming out when you’re done?”
“Nah,” I said, deciding to pass. “Dinner didn’t really settle well with me. I’m just gonna finish up some homework instead. Tell Dad and Dan for me?”
“Of course. You need anything?”
“No, I’m okay.”
She smiled and off she went, like there was a fire on her tail. I couldn’t lie . . . watching Dan play was something else. I couldn’t wait for his next game, especially being there to support him and knowing he was doing this not only for him, but for me, too.
Two
I KNEW SOMETHING GOOD was coming and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. With his fingers wrapped around the football, Dan glanced up at me in the stands and nodded quickly, the biggest grin on his face. He didn’t seem to care that he had about three guys ready to tackle him. The pressure never fazed Dan, because this was his element. The Friday night lights, the roaring crowds, the pigskin in his hands, commanding the field. The dude was a star and I was proud to be his brother. I nodded back and he finally threw the football. It spiraled perfectly through the air, landing straight into Johnson’s tight grip, where he ran the short distance and . . .
“Touchdown!” I jumped from the bench and threw my hands in the air, screaming. Except, my cheering was short-lived. I palmed my back and frowned as a sharp pain stabbed me. I glanced over my shoulder, eyeing the crowd behind me. Did someone throw something? No. They were all too engrossed in the game.
Running a hand over my back that ached with a dull pain, I drew my attention back to the field. Maybe I had been sitting too long?
I prepared to ease past Anna and her sister when she touched my arm. “Where you going?”
I stopped in front of her and smiled. My girlfriend was beautiful and that was an understatement. We’d finally made our relationship official two months ago. We were young, but I’d known her since preschool, basically forever. And I was the lucky guy that got to hold her hand.
“Just going to stretch,” I told her.
“You’re gonna miss the last thirty seconds of the game though.” She cocked her head.
It was safe to say the whole town lived for high school football, and it was no lie that my brother, Dan, was the best quarterback since I didn’t know when.
I glanced over my shoulder at the scoreboard. We were ahead by seven points. I smirked, ready to tell her I wasn’t worried about it, when another weird pain ricocheted around from my back to my side. I flinched. What in the heck?
“You okay?” she asked, steadying her hand on my arm.
I laughed, trying to play it cool, but I honestly wasn’t sure what the hell was up. “I’m good. I’ve been sitting too long I think. I’ll be back.” I didn’t waste another second, slipping past the girls and rushing to the front of the stadium.
I palmed my side and stretched out a little, only to find that made it worse. Putting my hand out, I braced myself against the ticket booth that had already closed. I sucked in a few deep breaths but the ache in my back grew tighter with each inhale. “What the heck?” I yelled, but it was masked by whoops and hollers from the stands.
We won.
A grin tipped my lips even though I was trying not to scowl in pain. I was probably more proud of him than my parents and I had missed the end. This was the sixth game of the season and I had missed the end of the last one because Anna needed a soda. I stood in line as James made the winning touchdown, beating our arch rivals forty-seven to forty.
It seemed like a new trend . . . always missing out on the best part, the end.
Sighing, I spotted my parents and eased off the ticket booth. My dad’s arm was wrapped across my mom’s shoulders and I rolled my eyes. Those two were a sight. Anna followed behind them with Shay right next to her, in deep conversation. I didn’t want to interrupt, but when Anna saw me her eyes lit up. She ran to my side, lacing her small fingers through mine.
“Feeling better? You’re acting weird.”
I shrugged it off. “Stop worrying. I’m fine.”
“Oh, Jason, you’re working tomorrow at the farm. Don’t forget. Be ready to leave by four in the morning,” Dad reminded me, patting me on the back that still ached, and I clenched my jaw.
“G-got it Dad.”
His grip firmed, stopping us all. “Don’t give me that look. We all have to pull together for your brother. Your turn is next, but we have to do this for him right now. We need you more than ever. He’s so close to getting his scholarship. Don’t drop the ball, son.”
I swallowed back and nodded. They had enough on their plates and the pain in my back was probably nothing. No need to worry anyone.
***
The next day the brutal sun beat down heavily on my body, making my once-dry t-shirt more than damp. It was another sizzling day, and I should’ve noticed the red that brightly tinted my skin, but the only thing that kept my attention was the constant sharp pain in my lower back.
I reached around and grazed my fingers over the tender part and flinched, my stomach muscles pulling inward at the feeling.
“What the hell is wrong?” I mumbled to myself.
I dropped to the dirt, draping a sweaty, pink arm over my knee, panting. I didn’t want them to see me like this. The pain was getting worse, whatever was going on.
I’d hurt myself before. I was always doing stupid shit with my brother and best friend, TJ. But this . . . this kind of hurt was different. It was like a million needles stabbing my back all at once. And then each time I would move, they sank deeper into my muscle, and the pain shifted from one side to the other. It had hurt to even sleep. I’d given my body the once over in the mirror and found there was nothing on the outside. It made me cringe at whatever was going on, on the inside.
I tried to think of anything, to remember if I fell, but nothing rang a bell. It didn’t make any freaking sense. I groaned. Half in pain, half in frustration.
Trying to fight it off, I clenched my teeth and exhaled forcefully through my nose, doing whatever I could to keep my composure. I wasn’t some sissy, one who let pain interfere in his life. In fact, I always tried to be like my brother—tough and strong.
A faint chuckle left my lips and I pushed off the ground, swiping away the pebbles stuck to my jeans. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t my brother. I tried to forget about it, focus on working at the farm instead of what really plagued my mind for the past couple weeks...the excruciating pain.
I looked down at my rake still on the field and groaned at myself for almost forgetting to take it with me.
I squatted, grabbing my tool. As soon as I stood, an eye-crossing pain wrapped around my lower back. I pinched my eyes shut, nervous for what it might be. Maybe I needed to tell my mom. She was a nurse for Christ’s sakes.
“Don’t drop the ball, son.”
But there it was again, my father’s words echoing around me.
We were busy. My family had enough to deal with. I didn’t want to take away from anything, be anyone’s burden. I’d man the hell up and give it some time to heal on its own, whatever it was.
I’d take some pain medicine when I got home and ice my back. It would go away. It had to go away. Such a simple word, but a mountain-sized request. For now, I’d keep this to myself and let it pass.
Three
2 months la
ter…
SOMETHING INSIDE HAD TO be broken. I stared down at the blood in the toilet bowl. On top of the back aches and pains in my sides, there was blood in my urine. The time had passed but the problem hadn’t. Everything had only gotten worse. And now, it was just too much. I couldn’t handle the agony anymore, and as I shakily flushed the toilet, I knew my sanity couldn’t take it anymore either. With a beating chest and sweaty palms, I knew what I had to do. Heading down the hallway, I made my way to Mom’s room where she was reading a book. It was her day off, and Dad and Dan were out. They’d asked me to go but I told them no. I had other things on my mind.
“Hey, M-mom?” I peeked my head around the doorway.
She lowered her book. “Yeah, sweetie?”
It was now or never. I had contemplated it over and over in my head. There was no choice but to tell her and go see a doctor.
“Jason, what is it?” She set her book down and got up from the bed.
I fiddled with my fingers. “I don’t feel good, Mom.”
The back of her wrist went straight to my forehead, frantically searching for a fever. “No, Mom. I don’t feel that kind of sick. I mean . . .,” Mom held me an arm’s length away, searching my face, “my back and my sides. They hurt. I can’t even touch them.”
Mom turned my body around, her fingers lifting my flannel shirt. She began inspecting every inch of my skin, just like I had done. She pressed a little too hard on one area and I winced. “I have blood in my pee,” I whispered.
“Jason!” she gasped, holding her hands to her chest. “How long? How long has this been going on?”
I shrugged. “A few—”
“Days?”
I shook my head. The timeline lodged in my throat. “Months. About two months.”
She covered her mouth. And I knew right then that whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
***
No questions asked, she rushed me straight to the emergency room. I sat on the bed listening as my mother’s shoes slapped against the tile as she strode from one end of the hospital room to the other.
