Pleasures of Promise Lake

by Marti Shane

  Sam climbed off of him to the counter of ice cream dots, balancing the top-load cooler and telling the kid working to step aside. She had two cardboard cups in her hand, when the wheelbarrow plowed the side.

  “Here they come.” Mick leaped to the counter, careful not to touch the ground. She threw money at the girl, grabbing the whole gallon of mint chocolate chip. “Take everything green.” They loaded the wheelbarrow with anything with green in it, Jax helping Mick back in. “Tell them you’re out, even if you’re not.” Mick shouted as she balanced herself between the tubs of dots.

  Jake ran interference with the teens, giving Jax some room to push through. Sam gripped a hand full of melting dots and they were on their way to the finish line. The crowd cheering them on was better than any grand slam, even his first. Mick jumped from the barrow, green dipping dots flying as she flew over the finish line. She and Jax took the win as her feet hit the ground and her hometown crowd went wild.

  His parents joined them, along with Red and Kay, in the celebration like they’d won an Olympic medal. There were high fives and hugs and finally a picture for the wall behind the bar. Sam had her thumb hooked in Jake’s back belt loop, a habit he enjoyed. He was learning she wasn’t comfortable with affection in public, but her little habit was a possessive claim. Since their argument this morning, he didn’t feel alone in the emotional sprint anymore. She was feeling it, too.

  “Cheating as usual?” Nick’s voice caught his ear. He was almost unrecognizable in faded jeans and a concert tee. The guy wore Armani like a second skin, and Jake had never seen him dressed down. Mick and Sam reached a new level of delight, the Promise Lake crew complete. Nick’s face contorted with the hugs, his ribs obviously not healed.

  “Who’s this?” his mom asked quietly beside him.

  “Sam’s big brother,” he told her, wondering if he’d driven himself down. Mick and Sam were reenacting their acrobatics at the dipping dots booth, Travis having joined in. He had a hand on Jax’s shoulder as they threw their heads back and laughed at his girl. Nick absorbed every word from his little sister’s mouth, his smile one Jake had never seen.

  “He’s almost as pretty as she,” his mom said as they looked on. “Sounds like he practically raised her.”

  “Just in the summer,” Jake pieced together from what Sam told them this morning. “He went to military school, so they didn’t see each other during the year.” Jake studied the features between Nick and Sam. She favored her mom with dark hair and expressive eyes. They shared good bone structure in their cheeks, Nick’s more masculine with a squarer jaw. His mom was right, he was pretty.

  “She didn’t speak highly of her mom,” she added, prompting for a little insight. Fair enough, Jake thought.

  “Their parents were horribly abusive,” he explained quickly, careful not to give too much away. “Sam had Sloane to take her, but they’re half-siblings.” His mom’s inquisitive look fell flat, her big heart absorbing the pain she could imagine. “Sloane paid to put him in military school, just to keep him safe.”

  “My God,” she gasped, hand over her heart. “How old were they?”

  “Six and twelve.” He turned to face her, needing her to hear every word. “Please don’t ever mention it. It’s irreconcilable with their parents. You can’t imagine the horror.” Heat burst through his chest wall, flushing up his neck until his ears felt on fire. His mom’s eyes widened at the sudden flare of temper, imagining Sam’s frail body wrapped in a filthy rug while her parents lit up.

  “Never.” Her hand smoothed his bicep, a soothing mother’s touch to calm his nerves. She watched the circle of friends and family interact, piecing together the layers of Sam.

  She was the most capable human being he’d ever met. Making life effortless for others was her job and she did it with ease. The damage Margaret did wasn’t something you fixed. The remains were like when plastic burns. The object deforms, melting into itself in impermeable layers that can’t be restored. No matter how valuable she was to her clients and friends, deep inside she was disposable.

  “Do you know what they’ll do for the holidays?” his mom asked. “The more the merrier.” He hadn’t asked, but had every intension of spending them with Sam. “The first year’s the hardest after someone dies. I understand if you decide not to spend yours at home, but they are also welcome to join us.”

  “Have I ever told you you’re the best mom?”

  “Only when you want more dessert.” She laughed, accepting his sweaty hug.

  They took a hayride back to the house, Sam nestled to his side sharing in the boiled peanuts they’d brought back.

  “I’ve never seen someone eat so much,” he teased her and Mick.

  “You have to have one of everything,” Mick said.

  “No, that’s not a rule,” Nick said, his hand hugging his left ribs as they went over bumps.

  “Yes it is,” Sam argued. “Except pumpkin pie.”

  “It’s a pumpkin festival.” Jake laughed, gesturing to the stack of pumpkins they’d picked to take back.

  “They’re for carving, not eating. Yuk.”

  “What do you eat on Thanksgiving if you don’t eat pumpkin pie?”

  “Popcorn,” she and Nick said in unison. “We go to the movies on Thanksgiving.”

  “The airport’s super busy on Thanksgiving,” Nick explained. “Sloane always worked, so Sam and I caught a show.”

  “I didn’t know the movies were open on Thanksgiving,” his mom chimed in.

  “It’s usually opening day for a big film. We usually see a Marvel movie, Nick answered her.

  “What do you do for Christmas? More movies?” Jake asked.

  “Work,” she said, pulling another soft peanut from the bag. “We’re stupid crazy on Christmas.”

  “When do you exchange gifts?” he asked, a thrill rising as he thought about things to buy her. She hesitated, a guard sliding in place he hadn’t seen all day.

  “We don’t do gifts,” Mick filled the silence, pointing to herself, Travis, Nick and Sam. “We kinda have our own thing.”

  “I think it’s great,” Kay spoke up. “We encouraged them when they were kids to do something for each other instead of buying each other gifts.”

  “To this day, they still do it,” Red said, proudly.

  “We write it down and seal it in an envelope that hangs on the tree,” Mick explained. “Then we open them on Christmas day.” She tossed a peanut at Travis. “You can do my laundry this year since I’m moving home.”

  “You are?” Nick perked up, and Jake took an elbow from Sam.

  “Catch up, Nicholas,” Mick said in reply.

  “Is that what you guys do for each other? Chores?” Jax asked. “For the whole year?”

  “Anything you can’t buy,” Travis said. “And it should last the whole year.”

  “What’s the best thing you ever got?” Jake braved the question, not directing at anyone specific of the four.

  “Gas,” Mick shared.

  “You can buy gas,” Jax argued.

  “We have gas tanks.” Mick thumbed over her shoulder to the tank farm. “I didn’t pump gas for a whole year.”

  “Worms,” Sam chimed in.

  “Someone gave you worms?”

  “We used to turn logs and rocks in the mornings to collect fishing worms for the guests.” She shivered with a sour face. “I hated picking up worms.”

  Jake glanced to his parents who wore approving smiles. They were positioned like him and Sam, his dad’s arm around his mom’s shoulders with her nestled into his frame. Trying to imagine him and Sam thirty years from now, he disappointed himself. He liked to play ball, play in the dirt with heavy equipment and build things. Was he really Sam’s type? She was young in her field but at the top of her game. He only had her for six weeks because their circumstances fell in line.

  “Why the frown?” she asked quietly, catching his change in mood.

  “Just tired.” He shrugged it off the best he coul
d. “If I knew I had to carry you the last round, I would’ve scaled back your bacon,” he teased, and she smiled.

  “This was a good time,” his dad told Red when they climbed from the trailer of hay. “Think we can get out on the lake tomorrow?” They made plans for the men to fish in the morning, his dad teasing Sam to get him some worms. They sat in their porch swing while everyone confirmed plans, Sam draping her legs over his lap.

  “What’s eatin’ you, Jaeger?” she asked when the last of the crowd wondered off. “You got quiet.”

  “I was just soaking it all in.” He pulled off her shoes, tossing them to the front door. “Do you really work every Christmas?”

  “Is that why you picked baseball?” She nudged his thigh with her toes. “Because NFL and NBA play on Christmas?”

  “No.”

  “It’s lucrative.” She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. “And necessary to be competitive. We’re in the service industry.”

  “Where do you work from? Do you have a tree or music or anything?”

  “We work from the office. It’s not a big deal. We do some cool stuff for the fire and police departments working those days. Not to mention the hospitals. Why is this bumming you out?”

  “You haven’t mentioned Sloane.” Sam’s posture stiffened at the mention, her gaze suddenly fixed on her fingers picking something imaginary from the hem of her shirt.

  “She worked,” Sam said, not looking him in the eye. “I miss her no matter what day of the year it is.”

  “I vote you ditch work and spend it with me.” He hung the invitation out there, feeling it was a lost cause. She hadn’t offered the same. They could go to the movies on Thanksgiving and hang with his family.

  “I’d never ask you to miss work. Missing Christmas is like missing the play-offs. It’s the most important win of the year.”

  “I was being polite.” He wrapped each of her feet in his hand, giving a firm squeeze. “I wanted you to know you’re welcome to spend the Holidays with us.”

  “I just did,” she said. Folding forward she grasped his forearms as she met his gaze. Her eyes were determined and sincere, her words sinking in. “This is my Holiday.” She’d told him two weeks ago this was her favorite day of the year. Her inner-circle was here, a day they could all be together. “I’m glad you were here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Really? Because she went to Florida State?” Sam challenged Jax. This was the fifth candidate he’d refused to interview. She had referred three of the candidates he had interviewed to Nick when Jax passed them over for reasons that made no sense. “Fine, I’ll start training one of my PAs next week.” She swiped the screen of her tablet, which Mary plucked from her hand.

  “It’s Thanksgiving. No more shop talk.”

  “Careful, Mom,” Jake said. “Sam’s tablet is super-secret off limits.”

  “It certainly is.” She set it behind the floral arrangement on the side table on her way back to the kitchen. Sam opened her mouth as soon as she was out of earshot. “Zip it,” Mary called over her shoulder.

  “Eyes in the back of her head.” Jax pointed to the back of his skull, right where she wanted to slap the man. She’d finished two weeks ahead of schedule and he’d been dragging his feet ever since. “What movie you guys going to see?” He changed the subject.

  “Nick’s in charge of tickets. I’m in charge of popcorn.”

  “I’ll watch any movie just so I can have the popcorn.” Mark lowered his newspaper, adding his two cents.

  “I didn’t know anyone read the paper anymore,” Sam said. “You can read it online.”

  “All lies.” Mark flipped the print back in front of his face.

  “I see where Jax gets his fear of change.” She shot him a glance, but he just shrugged, popping grapes into his mouth. They were finishing up the lake next week, and J&J had bids he needed to focus on. Sam managed to automate most of the work he used to take on, and he needed an assistant to filter the rest. Direct access was reserved for project managers and clients, which his assistant would ensure.

  “Why don’t you do it?” he suggested. “You only work two days a week.”

  “I’m not your PA.”

  “Pain in the ass? Sure about that?”

  “It’s a full time job as soon as you’re back full time, and that’s happening fast.”

  “Not for you” he countered. “And you can have Holidays off.”

  “You can’t afford me.”

  “Think of the benefits.” He turned his palms up. “You can ride your bike in every day, make your own hours as long as they’re the same as mine, and you can even hire your own assistant.” She looked to Jake for help.

  “Can she have a week at Spring Training?” he asked, no help at all. “You can come out to Arizona and meet the team. Most of them bring their families if their kids aren’t in school.”

  “If he hires his own assistant, I don’t need his permission.”

  Sam grew nauseous at the thought, mingling with housewives while the guys trained all day. She was getting anxious as time ticked by, knowing his season was only twelve weeks away. Her only chance to see him was in Texas or on the road and she’d have to share.

  “True,” Jake agreed. “But I’m with Jax on the Florida State thing.”

  “Georgia State or Auburn,” Mark said from behind his paper.

  “Or Harvard,” Jax added, gesturing to her.

  “I’m leaving,” she announced, picking up her mug.

  As she made her way to the kitchen, she was surprised at how comfortable she felt in Jake’s home. Mark had built it with his own two hands and Mary had touched every surface with love. The turkey she started early this morning already smelled delicious, like everything she made. Jake drove in after work Tuesday night and they’d stayed the past two nights.

  Mary was on her cell phone in the kitchen, her back turned as she wiped the already clean granite. Her voice was pleasant and a little sad as she exchanged some I know and what did you expect with the person on the line. She turned and noticed she was there when she rinsed her cup for the dishwasher.

  “I’m going to go, Mom,” she said into the phone. “Tell Dad I love him and I’ll debrief with you guys tonight.” Dropping the call, she cradled the phone with a sigh.

  “Everything okay?” Sam asked tentatively, not really equipped if she said no.

  “Everything’s normal.” Mary laughed a little. “My sisters and their kids can climb my mom’s last nerve.” She took the rinsed cup from Sam, stashing it in the dishwasher. “We used to endure it until we had the boys. Mark put his foot down and we haven’t spent a Holiday there since.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She waved it off, peeking through the double-oven doors at the roasting birds. “I love my parents every day of the year. I’m happy to let my siblings take their few days around the holidays and I enjoy the time with my boys.”

  “Thank you for having me,” Sam felt obligated to say.

  “Oh honey, I’m so glad you’re here.” Mary placed her hand on her chest, her expression sincere. “Are you doing okay?” She didn’t need to explain, Sam knew what she meant. Even though Gram wasn’t part of her Thanksgiving tradition, she was part of her life. Today was her first time going back to Atlanta, and she didn’t have a home. She remembered standing across the street, struggling to go back inside the first time without Gram being there. The firsts kept coming and there’d never be a last.

  “I miss her every day of the year,” Sam said, fighting back tears.

  Mary’s reaction was instant, her embrace authentic and maternal around Sam. Fresh tears pooled to the surface coming from somewhere deep inside. Sobs escaped, as Mary’s soft words drew from every emotion she’d stored. The dam broke, the release euphoric as she let them free. Mary rocked her as her cries softened and she realized she was clutching her small frame. She loosened her hold, muscles burning from holding her too tight.

  “Sorry.�
�� She sniffed and searched for some kind of composure.

  “It’s like taking an emotional shit,” Mary said, taking her off guard. She held Sam’s shoulders, one in each hand. “It’s messy as hell, but you feel better when it’s done.”

  Laughter burst from Sam, her emotional tank filling back up with the good stuff. She was so light she could float.

  “What’s so funny?” Jake rounded the corner, his face opposite his chipper tone when he saw her. She wiped straggling tears from her cheek, trying to take a breath between laughs.

  “Your mom gave me the shits.” Mary was laughing with her, her hand on Sam’s back as she turned to face her son. Jake cupped her cheeks which ached from laughing.

  “Sam?” His brows were dipped over worried eyes as she continued to laugh. The humor was gone, but her emotions were feeling the aftershocks as little giggles continued to escape.

  “She’s fine,” his mom tried to assure him. “She just needed to purge.” Sam nodded, agreeing so he’d stop worrying.

  “Fine, I’ll get an assistant,” Jax teased from behind him, taking some tension from Jake. “Your phone’s blowing up.” He shoved the brick between them. “You okay, Yosemite?” he asked, adopting Travis’s nickname.

  “Never better. I’ve gotta get going.” She excused herself to fix her face and get dressed, looking forward to the forty-five-minute ride.

  Funny, she used to dread any length of time in a car, now she craved the open road on her bike. Climbing the stairs lined with memories, a new picture caught her eye. They were at the Pumpkin Festival just after they’d won the race. Ten smiling faces, hers in the middle next to Jake’s. Nick was there, too, flanked by Travis and Mick. They looked like a family, the only one missing was Gram.

  Sam felt her smile all the way to her toes. For the first time she felt comfort over sorrow, much like Red explained. Fondness overshadowed the pain, just barely. Gram would be happy for her. She remembered their time at the stadium instead of their final days, memories that had faded fighting their way back.