Pleasures of Promise Lake

by Marti Shane

  Red pulled out Kay’s chair, helping her to her feet. She adored how he treated her, watching him drop a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

  “How was Paris?” she asked, opening her arms and wrapping her tight. She smelled like Promise, sunshine and cinnamon forever fragrant in her soft silver hair.

  “I knew I should’ve stayed home,” she said softly, voice full of regret. “Sloane insisted we go. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  “She wasn’t letting you miss Paris.” Sam tried easing her guilt. They closed the B&B twice a year so they could travel. This year was their thirtieth wedding anniversary and they’d planned Paris for years. “The pictures were beautiful. She was so glad you went.”

  Kay smoothed back Sam’s hair, her eyes surveying the cut at her scalp. Her eyes sheened with tears, worry and regret shadowing her pretty features.

  “I’m fine.” Sam held her hands and squeezed gently. “I promise.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Red pulled her against his pillowy chest. Her sinuses burned, his hug tighter and longer than usual. After a few long breaths, he pulled back, his brawny hands on her shoulders and soft blue eyes on hers. “You’ve got a place to stay. You know that.” She smiled and nodded, holding back tears. Eyeing her head same as Kay did, his hand patted his heart. “You kids tested my ticker.”

  Jake’s hand found her back, resuming the sweet circles. “Red, this is Jake.” She introduced them, Red clapping Jake’s shoulder. His face was tight with emotion, an awkward silence as he only nodded and squeezed his shoulder. Kay rubbed Red’s back, fresh tears in her eyes.

  “I owe you boys,” Red said gruffly, voice thick with tears he was too proud to shed. He nodded again, hand clapping Jake’s shoulder once more. “Thank you.” Kay pushed in front of Red, letting him gain his composure.

  “Yes, thank you,” Kay added. Jake practically bent in half for her to hug his neck. Sam glanced to Nick, his bruised face as grim as Red’s. They all shuffled, finding their seats. She thanked Jake when he pulled out her chair, thinking she should be thanking him the rest of her life.

  “Travis said you guys had a plan for the bridge,” Red said, plucking the olives from his rocks martini.

  “We’re not talking about that bridge.” Kay used her napkin to blot her eyes.

  “Yes ma’am,” Jake quickly agreed, leaning back for the server to set down his drink.

  “Bourbon, neat,” the server said. “And red wine.”

  “Occupational habit?” Jake asked, spinning the glass by the rim. Sam shifted uncomfortably, the order having been given on auto-pilot. She ordered his drink without a second thought, revealing she remembered what he drank three years ago.

  “These two kids are always ten steps ahead of ya.” Red found his chuckle, pointing between her and Nick. “We didn’t have to lift a finger from Paris to here.”

  “Except on a jet ski.” Travis jumped in, sliding the bread basket in front of him as soon as the server set it down.

  “That’s for the whole table.” Mick thumped him on the back of the head, having snuck up to the table. Curtis popped to his feet, offering the chair between him and Nick. She was fashionably late, draped in a silk shirt dress cutting across her shapely thighs.

  “There’s my girl.” Red stood, Mick rushing to his arms. She looked fantastic and effortless at the same time. As she hugged her Mom next, Sam noticed Curtis soaking her in.

  “Honey, you look thin,” Kay said in loving disapproval.

  “Tell Travis to share the bread.” Mick played into the remark, the comment on her weight nothing new. Her nude Jimmy Choos made her legs look longer than they already were and Sam knew for a fact Curtis was dialed in. She giggled softly, Jake giving her leg a squeeze.

  “Is Curtis her boyfriend?” he whispered quietly.

  “Friend of Nick’s,” She said, shaking her head. Jake winked at her, pulling his bourbon to his lips.

  “Almost,” he mouthed, doing the wiggle thing with his brows.

  “Almost what, Slugger?” Mick asked, taking a tentative sniff of Nick’s drink.

  “Sam said you’re almost too pretty to look at.” He sat back with an easy smile, both of them enjoying the tick in Curtis’s jaw. Oh, he had it bad.

  “Back at ya, sister.” Mick winked at Sam, her smile brilliant and warm.

  “I’m prettier than both of ya’ll,” Travis said, cheek full with a bite of bread.

  “Not true,” Mick shot back. “But we’ll get you a participation trophy for shaving the rat’s nest off your chin.”

  Dinner was pleasantly normal, the food delicious and the conversation light. There was no mention of tomorrow, each one of them holding it together in their own way. Sam pushed away her slice of carrot cake, the frosting too rich for her full tummy. Jake took over, stabbing his fork through the seven layers.

  “Can I get a coffee?” she asked, masking a yawn.

  “What’s the matter Yosemite Sam?” Travis asked. “Been up more than four hours?” Glancing at the time, she realized it was her first full day of consciousness in a week.

  “I made you a doctor’s appointment for Monday,” Nick informed her.

  “I’m fine,” she argued, fighting another yawn.

  “Travis isn’t a doctor and even if he was you don’t want to trust him with your head.”

  “He’s right,” Travis agreed. “Look what I did to his face.”

  “Are you feeling okay, Sam?” Kay asked, stealing the glass of wine she hadn’t touched.

  “Fine, just tired.”

  “Understandable. I bet you’re exhausted.” She looked to Jake. “Why don’t you skip coffee and get her home?” She made a lifting motion to Curtis, instructing him to do the same with Nick. “You guys need rest.” Her hug was warm and sincere, the best in the world next to Gram. “I love you sweet girl.” She moved on to Jake, Red taking his turn.

  “Tomorrow’s a tough day little one,” he said, holding her tight. “We’ll get through it, and the next.” Tears stung, spilling over as she hugged him back. He passed her off to Jake, who tucked her in close as she wiped her eyes. Mick came to her rescue, dipping her napkin in her water glass and dabbing at her face.

  “You’re a hot mess.” She blew gentle puffs at her eyes, fighting back her tears as she dabbed. “How’s my breath?” Sam fake gagged, Mick’s antics working to dry up her tears. “Take her away, slugger,” she finally said, kissing her on the cheek.

  They walked out with Curtis and Nick at a snail’s pace. “Are your ribs fractured or bruised?” Jake asked.

  “Fractured,” Curtis answered for him. “Three places plus his collar bone. Travis showed me a picture of the car.” His dark eyes pinned Sam. “You guys were lucky.”

  “Should you even be walking?” Sam asked.

  “You call this walking?” Nick grumbled. “I can’t stay inside all day, much less in bed.”

  They passed through the doors into the cool fall air. Their town cars waited at the curb, Sam watching Curtis usher Nick in. Curtis as a caregiver was bizarre, something only Mick could talk him into.

  “Thank you,” she offered, feeling like she should step in. He was her brother and she was fine. Curtis shut the door, rounding the car.

  “He did the same for me when I broke my shoulder. Guess I owed him one.” He did? Opening his door, he gave them both a nod. “We’ll see you in the morning.” Sam stood confused as the car pulled off.

  “Is that Curtis Black?” Jake asked, no last names exchanged when they were introduced.

  “That’s him,” she answered.

  “That man has more money than God.” He patted her ass as she got in, making her gasp. “And women,” he added, sliding into the seat next to her. “You think Mick will give him a chance?”

  “Nick won’t let that happen.” Sam knew her brother’s Achilles heel. Mick’s Jimmy Choos were from a collection not released. Curtis had the money, but Nick had the connection. Her dress was from a fresh designer in Miami. Reagan Donisi
was a client and she had dressed Sam for the past three years to have her work seen by the high-end clients of The Royal. Sam knew Reagan’s work well. Her brother dressed Mick tonight. The shoes were an apology for being an asshole patient, she was pretty sure, but that dress was for him.

  “Why?” Jake asked, curiously. “His reputation?” She wouldn’t classify Curtis Black as the billionaire playboy the press made him out to be. Play and boy were antonyms when it came to him. He was definitely a man and, from the look he gave Mick, he didn’t play with his food. He devoured it.

  “Mick would eat that man for breakfast.” Sam laughed, confident Mick could. “She’s in love with Nick.” Jake tilted his head, considering it.

  “I didn’t catch that.”

  “They’re complicated.”

  “They’re polar opposites,” he said in disbelief.

  Jake entertained her the rest of the ride home with hilarious impressions of Mick and Nick fighting over marital chores. Her favorite was Mick making him polish her shovel collection in the garage. He was right. They were incompatible, but Sam knew Mick was the only woman who could ever know him. The romantic in her wanted to see them find a way to live happily ever after.

  Her mood changed instantly when they walked through the front, the envelopes stacked up greeting her. Sam sighed, kicking off her shoes. Scooping as many as she could hold, she carried them to the coffee table knowing they wouldn’t open themselves. The white and off-white sleeves spilled over the table, each one reading Apt #205-E. She’d memorized her address at six years old so she could always be returned home safe.

  “Can we talk about this?” Jake sat beside her, the notice to vacate pulled from the trash in his hand. He pulled her onto his lap, placing the paper in her lap. “I’d like for you to let me help.”

  “I haven’t been able to give it much thought,” she admitted. “But I’ll figure it out.” His hand was soothing on her back, much like he’d touched her all night.

  “Let me help.” The request was demanding, but sincere.

  “I will.” She accepted, surprising herself. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes and she liked being the source. She wasn’t the feminist type. She liked a man willing to give her support, as long as he understood it was a privilege. “It’s not money,” she explained. “We’re…” Clearing her throat, she started again. “I’m in good shape, financially. I could sell my shoes and buy this place.” She crumpled the paper in her hands. “This is a piece of Gram’s past that circled back.” She met his eyes, wanting to trust him. He knew more about her than she’d ever told anyone. “I’d like to protect her privacy,” she decided, whatever this was between them was too new.

  “I can respect that.” Jake tried masking the disappointment. She understood, having been pissed about being in the dark earlier today. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but it didn’t change the fact she had to find a place to live.

  “I’ve never lived on my own,” she confessed.

  “What about Boston?”

  “I was in a dorm first semester and then I had a suite at The Royal as part of my contract. I moved home after I graduated.”

  “I lived at home until I was twenty-five,” Jake shared. “Same thing as you. I lived in a dorm in college and then stayed with sponsor families in Seattle. I still don’t live on my own.” She eyed him, jealousy taking hold. “Me and Chase share a pad. We bunked with the same family in Seattle and we moved up to the Majors the same year.”

  “That’s a lot of time to spend together.”

  “No different than you guys working in Promise all summer.” She considered his point.

  “True. We worked together, played together and lived together three months out of the year.”

  “I heard Red offer you a place to stay.” His hand moved to her nape, fingers working magic on the tension she didn’t realize was there. “I know your cabin’s occupied, but what do you say? Work together, play together, live together? At least for the rest of the year?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  She said yes. Jake repeated those three little words, keeping him distracted from the open casket. He thought about all the times he’d taken a stool at Sloane’s bar, excited to catch up. She’d point out new signatures on the wall and then catch him up on Sam. Sam was her pride and joy and, if he was being honest, he was eager to hear how she was. Ever since their one encounter in Boston, he thought of her more times than he should. She knew, he thought.

  Her peaceful expression as she lay upon white satin pillows saddened him to no end. She was only fifty-five and so full of life. Why hadn’t he called and checked on Sam after All-Stars? He would’ve known Sloane was sick. He could’ve been here for Sam. His mother would tell him if I’d only known is a piss poor excuse. She didn’t let him use his busy season schedule as an excuse to not know what’s going on at home. If people are important in your life, you make it your business to know. He’d taken for granted Sloane would be here when he got home. He’d taken for granted Sloane would be here for Sam after her break-up with Mitch.

  Sam had taken a deep breath as they entered the room, approaching the casket with purpose. The viewing was only open to family for the next half hour and she was first to step in. He’d offered to give her privacy, but she just tugged on his hand. He had to fight the jitters to stand still, the open casket scene not something he was a hundred-percent comfortable with.

  “I didn’t want to see her,” she said, after several minutes of silence. Leaning into his side, she wrapped an arm around his waist. He tucked her in close, the feel of her there so natural. “I needed to see her like this,” she added. “She looks good, not like the last time I saw her.” There were no tears, even though his sinuses burned. He felt cheated, her death so sudden to him. Sam, he realized, had months to prepare. “You can’t tell how much weight she lost,” she commented, and his heart ached. Months of watching her Gram wither away. Where the hell was he?

  “I’ll give you a minute?” she offered, eyes kind as she stepped out of his hold. “We’ve said our goodbyes.” Her hand was warm through his suit sleeve as she steadied herself to kiss his cheek. “If she talks back, let me know.” A nervous laugh escaped them both, Sam’s humor surprising him.

  She walked away, leaving him to process what she’d already accepted. Music played softly overhead to layer the eerie silence as he gazed upon his friend one last time. Words caught in his throat, his tie suddenly too tight around his neck.

  “I’ve got Sam,” he told Sloane, hand patting the polished mahogany before he turned away. The aisles were lined with sprays of lilies, a replica of the wall of signatures hanging in the far-side of the room. Hundreds of chairs would soon be full, the intimate goodbyes all having been said.

  “Pardon me.” The words were deep and brief, as he passed through the door opened from the other side. He recognized the man who spoke them, eyes on the floor as he pushed inside. Jake watched his idol take slow and heavy strides toward the front of the room. His head appeared too heavy for his neck, proud shoulders slumped in grief. Otis Smithfield was heartbroken. Jake eased the door closed to not disturb him as he loomed over the casket, placing a large hand over Sloane’s.

  Sam was chatting about everything and nothing with the tight knit party of five who were everything in her life. She and Mick were holding hands, Nick flanked by Red and Travis lounging on the couch. The scene reminded him more of Sunday dinner than a funeral, except everyone wore black.

  “Shit,” Kay said under her breath. She must have been in the restrooms in the hall beside him. “Keep Sam distracted.” Her red-rimmed eyes darted between Sam and the woman getting out of the town car on the curb. Kay slipped outside, the glass door not making a sound.

  Jake recognized the woman instantly. She was shorter than Sam, and her black dress hung from her too thin frame. She plundered in, big bag dangling from her skinny arm, pulling out cigarettes which Kay politely tucked back in her bag. The greeting didn’t seem confrontational, Kay introducing hersel
f and taking the woman’s bony hand.

  “What are you…” Sam didn’t finish the question, locking in on her mother. Her hand flew to her face. Instead of covering a gasp, she covered her nose. She grew visibly ill by the second, her lips pursing to suck in breaths. Positioning himself between her and the door, he blocked her view. Her eyes darted to the hall Kay came from, making him wonder if she was going to be sick.

  “Let’s go.” He led her down the short hall, supporting her elbow as she balanced her shaky legs on heels. When he tried to push into the restroom, she kept moving to the side exit door. Once they were outside, Sam tentatively removed her hand as if testing the air. Her other hand was outstretched, a warning to give her some space. She must have known her mother coming was a possibility. Jake felt helpless as Sam paced the small courtyard, hands on her hips and eyes locked on the ground. Her black dress molded her curves, and her heels sculpted her calves as she walked on them with ease. She and Nick kept such good care of themselves, such a contrast to the woman he saw outside. He didn’t have much experience with drugs, but she looked how addicts were made to look in the movies. Thin, but not in a good way. She was young. She had to be. Drugs didn’t help with aging and she couldn’t be much more than thirty.

  Footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, Otis strolling up from behind. His hand landed on Jake’s shoulder, feet planting next to his.

  “Sloane’s smiling down on this.” He pointed between Jake and Sam. “She thought a lot of you, Son.” Swelling with pride, he fought the urge to let his stupid grin stretch ear to ear. “I’m Little One’s Godfather.” He didn’t give his name, but he didn’t have to. His brown eyes had dark shadows, and a frown marked his brow. “I’ll break your legs.”

  “Otis!” Sam squared off in front of them, hands planted on her hips and a scowl on her pretty face.

  “Fine.” Otis dropped his hand from Jake’s shoulder. “I’ll break your fingers.” He amended the threat. “On both hands.” He added and dropped a kiss on Sam’s head. She rolled her eyes, clearly unaffected by the legend.