She dropped the baton onto the table and covered her face with her hands. Andrew put his arm around her shoulder and drew her into his chest.
“Well spoken, love.”
“That’s so cool.” Camille leaned forward. “Where’d you have it done?”
Susie laughed and shook her head. “I love you, Camille.”
Andrew waved his forefinger. “Who’s next?”
Susie grinned and shoved the baton to her left. “Why, look at that, dear. It looks like it’s right in front of you.”
Andrew rolled his eyes and said, “I pretend I don’t like dessert, but I really do.”
The joke fell flat, and Andrew’s gaze dropped to the table. He looked like he was trying to hide his thick frame behind his chicken-salad sandwich.
“The one I don’t want to admit even to myself, let alone you guys, is the one that came to mind immediately, so that’s of course the one I have to let out. Right? Of course right.”
Susie squeezed his hand, her face full of knowing and compassion. Andrew rapped the table twice with the baton and continued.
“Growing up, my dad hammered me if I ever said, ‘I don’t know.’ He drilled into me the idea that you always had to have an answer anytime, anywhere, for anyone who asked a question. He told me I had to answer with conviction and strength.
“I grew to believe telling someone ‘I don’t know’ is the worst response possible. I haven’t said those words since age thirteen. Even if I don’t know the answer, I give one.” Andrew glanced around the table, then focused on his chips again. “I’m not lying exactly, I’m not trying to deceive anyone. I just come up with an answer, even if I have to guess some of the facts and make some of it up along the way. I fight it and hate myself for doing it, but it’s been a tough habit to break.”
The confession didn’t surprise Jake, just as it wouldn’t surprise anyone around the table except Ari. Jake had known it for years. And instead of making him think less of Andrew, the admission made his respect for the man grow. No one commented, but they didn’t need to. Their faces spoke of acceptance and grace with more power than their words could have. From the expression of peace on Andrew’s face, he caught his friends’ sentiment. And the truth shall set you free.
“Who are you going to hand the baton to?” Susie asked.
Andrew pointed it at Peter. “You’re up, my man.”
“Wow.” Peter leaned forward, elbows on the table, and let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think this would be so hard.”
After the laughter died down, Peter rubbed his temples. “I say the second thing that came to mind, right?”
“Go ahead,” Andrew said. “Keep stalling, we have all night.”
Peter groaned and threw his head back. When he brought it forward again, his eyes were somber. “If you ask anyone at the office they’ll tell you I’m nuts about the NBA. I’m in three NBA fantasy leagues. I can quote you stats on the leading players on every team and predict the next superstar coming out of college with amazing accuracy. I’m not so good at football, but I can keep up with most guys when it comes to the NFL and college ball. But it’s all a front. I hate basketball. I hate football. I really don’t like sports.”
Andrew’s eyes went wide but he didn’t say anything.
“When I was young, I was always tall for my age. Ever since the age of eight my uncles and older cousins would sing, ‘Peter, Peter, you’re so tall, why don’t you play basketball?’ When it came to football, they said I’d make a great tight end once I put on weight. The QB could throw the ball so high I was the only one who could catch it. I wanted to be one of the guys, so I tried out for both sports and I was horrible in each of them. Worse in basketball.
“There it is, folks.” Peter opened his palms. “My bluff. I’m the great pretender. I’m not macho. I never will be.”
“Way to go, Pete.” Andrew smacked him in the arm. “You’re such a stud. Always were, always will be in my book.”
After the others offered their support as well, Peter pointed the baton at Jake’s chest. “Your turn, Clark.”
Jake chuckled and said, “Since you said Ari could take the fifth anytime this week, and she has agreed to play this game, I’m going to borrow her pass.”
“Ehhhhh! Sorry, pal.” Peter knocked on the table in front of him. “That’s only good for Ari, not the rest of us.”
“But what about that amendment to the summer-gathering constitution about being single? Don’t I recall that if someone is single, they don’t have to—”
“Oh, come on, Jake,” Camille spouted. “Ari is going to go and she barely knows us, but you’re not willing to go?”
Jake considered lying, but he’d end up confessing the lie later anyway. As his heart hammered away inside his chest, he tried to figure out a way to escape. In the end, he made a lame excuse about having to use the bathroom and didn’t return.
Susie found him fifteen minutes later down on the dock. “Nice exit.”
“I’m not proud of it.”
“I wouldn’t be either.”
He glanced at her, then went back to watching the lake. “Why’d you do that to me?”
“I did it to all of us.” She pointed back toward the cabin with her thumb. “Everyone played, even Ari. Everyone but you.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Because it would mean telling Ari about the incident?”
Jake didn’t need to confirm Susie’s assertion. Of course that’s what it was. He looked at her and spoke the words he knew she wanted to hear. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
“No you won’t.”
“What?” Jake whipped his head toward her. “You don’t think I have the guts to do it? If I say I’m going to tell her tomorrow, I will tell her tomorrow.”
“I believe you.” Susie’s face grew serious. “But since she’s leaving this evening, tomorrow will be too late.”
“What?” Jake lurched forward. “I thought she’d decided to stay the full ten days.”
“Guess not.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just did.” Susie motioned up toward the cabin. “I just found out.”
“I have to talk to her. Have to.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“This is crazy, it’s only been a week, but I think I’m in . . .” Jake trailed off, unable to say the words.
“Yes. You most certainly are.” Susie clapped him on the shoulders. “Go.”
Jake held his breath. “Any idea where she is?”
“Out on the grass overlooking the lake, last I saw.”
Jake was headed toward the stairs leading up to the house when Susie’s voice stopped him. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“It will go better than you think, my dear brother.”
Jake walked onto the deck praying Susie was right, but knowing there was a high probability she was dead wrong.
32
Jake spotted Ari in the northwest corner of the property, lying in a hammock, an open book across her chest. The back of her head faced him and he halted six or seven yards before he reached her. Did he really want to step into this confessional booth? No. Not at all. But he had to tell her. If there was any chance of a future for the two of them, he had to tell her now.
He eased forward, not sure why he kept his feet from making any sound on the grass leading up to the hammock. When he got two feet from the back of the hammock, he swung to his right, stopped, and looked down at her. Ari’s eyes were closed, her hands folded over her stomach.
“Ari?”
She didn’t startle but simply shifted her head toward him, opened her eyes, and said, “Hello, Jacob Palmer,” as if she’d been expecting him.
“Susie tells me you’re leaving soon.”
“Yeah, I’ve had a wonderful time, but I need to get back.” Ari glanced at her watch. “Probably in twenty or thirty minutes. But I wanted to soa
k up a few more moments here in this paradise before I go.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a few of those moments to talk. Just a few things I need to say.”
“Of course. Take as much time as you need.”
“Things I need to say about us.”
“Us?” Ari sat up in the hammock and swung her legs over the side. “There’s an us?”
Jake went over to the fire pit, grabbed a chair, and came back. He set the chair a few feet from the hammock, sat, and rested his elbows on his knees. “Yeah. Us. But before we talk about us, I want to talk about me.”
“I’ll talk about anything you want to.”
“I want to talk about what I’ve been hiding from you all week. My bluff.”
Ari nodded and pushed off the grass so the hammock swung gently back and forth.
Jake waved his finger in front of his shirt and pants. “There’s a reason I jumped into the lake after poker with all my clothes on.”
“Kind of figured there was.” Ari put a finger on her lips. “I have to confess, I asked Peter as well as Susie.”
The confession didn’t bother Jake. “They didn’t tell you, did they?”
“Good friends, those two. They know how to hold a secret.”
Jake nodded.
“Forgive me.” Ari leaned forward and a breeze ruffled her hair.
“For wanting to know my deep, dark secret?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t need forgiveness for that or for asking. I would have done the same.”
“Thanks, but still, I’m sorry.”
Jake stood and shuffled a few feet toward the lake. The breeze was making tiny ripples on the surface of the water, marring the usual mirror image he’d come to expect at this hour of the day.
“That’s why I’m here. To tell you what it is.” Jake stayed fixed on the lake. “But now that the moment is here . . .”
“Your choice.”
“I’ve already made the decision.” Jake turned and fixed his gaze on Ari. Peering into those sea-green eyes kicked his heart into a double-time beat. This was harder than he thought it would be.
“No, the question isn’t whether I’m going to tell you, it’s where to start.”
“Anywhere.”
He eased back into his chair, nodded once, then began. “You never asked why my wife divorced me.”
“It’s not something I need to know.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Okay.”
“She was repulsed by me. By my appearance.”
“Oh?”
Ari’s eyes widened, but she didn’t look surprised. For some reason that put Jake at ease, as if nothing he said could make her flinch. A kind of peace seemed to float out of her eyes and seep into his mind and heart. And somehow he knew it was all going to be okay.
“A year and a half ago I tried to be a hero. It didn’t work out.”
He stopped and groped in his mind for the words that would tell her what happened in the most efficient way possible. Faster the better. Jake hadn’t told the story to anyone for a year and a half, and he didn’t enjoy pulling it out of the drawer and dusting it off.
“I was burned. Pretty badly. Everything from here down.” He placed the side of his hand under his rib cage. “Legs, backside, front side, ankles, feet, everything.”
Ari’s face showed no expression, no hint whether this revelation surprised her or confirmed something she already suspected. She said nothing, so Jake continued.
“My lifelong dream of being a leg model was crushed, and—”
“You don’t have to make a joke out of this, Jake.”
He nodded. “One day my wife walks in and tells me she can’t handle the sight of me any longer.” He allowed the emotion of Sienna’s blow to come over him. “She’d already filed. Three months later the divorce was final.
“For some strange reason it’s made me hesitant to go on dates or think about getting involved with anyone ever again. Weird, right?”
Compassion filled Ari’s eyes. Was she feeling sorry for him? He didn’t want her pity, didn’t need it. There was little more to say. The moment to reveal himself had arrived. Jake took hold of the hem of his shirt and closed his eyes. No way he’d risk seeing her face when she reacted to the mass of charred flesh under his clothes.
Jake took a quick breath and lifted the fabric, but Ari spoke in a commanding voice.
“Stop.”
Jake did.
“I don’t need to see your scars, Jake.”
“I think you do. If there’s going to be any kind of—”
“Jake? Stop. Listen again. I don’t need to see. This I promise you.” Ari leaned forward, her eyes burning with intensity. “When I was seven years old, my father was burned in a fire that started in my bedroom. I was lighting matches, and the fringe of a tiny tablecloth that covered my nightstand caught on fire. It was my fault. I . . .”
Ari’s eyes grew moist, but after a moment, she shook her head and regained her composure.
“No wonder.” Jake tilted his head back and sighed. “Now I get it. That’s why Peter invited—”
“No.” Ari shook her head, then tucked her dark hair behind both ears. “It’s not. Peter doesn’t know the story of my father. He has no idea. I’ve never told him. Few people do know about it. But my father’s story is the reason why I think I understand you more than you know. Just as you are, my father was a handsome man and had great difficulty showing anyone what had happened to him.”
Jake sat stunned. “You’ve known the whole time.”
Ari nodded, so slight Jake wasn’t sure he’d seen it.
“I didn’t fool you for even a moment.”
“It was tough not to notice you always wore pants or nylon sweats at a place where swimsuits and shorts are more the norm. So yes, I suspected. And you’re right, I more than suspected. I figured it out after the first day. The stories of your being a triathlete and mountain climber in the past, but not anymore . . . so yes, I knew. The way you walk, just like my father. Barely noticeable, but if you’ve grown up with it all your life, you know what it is.”
“But you didn’t back off . . . you’ve tried to get to know me . . . you’ve—”
“I like you, Jake. And I think you probably now realize a few burns, or even a hundred burns on someone’s body, has no impact whatsoever on how I feel about them.”
Jake stared at her, stunned by the revelation, and shot through with adrenaline as he also realized that she accepted him. Fully. If they did grow to love each other, there would be no rejection this time, no looks of revulsion, no guessing whether love was seeping away because of his appearance.
An intoxicating amount of hope buried him, and he struggled not to burst out laughing. As he stared at her, blinking with amazement at God’s kindness, Ari rose from her chair and knelt on the soft grass at his feet.
“May I?” She pointed at the bottom of his cream-colored linen pants, her eyes questioning.
“What?” Jake peered down at her. “I thought you said you didn’t need to see—”
“I don’t need to. But I want to, if it’s all right with you.”
“Yes. Of course.”
She gently removed his left shoe, then his sock, and set them to the side. Then she lifted his pant leg three, maybe four inches. The corners of her mouth turned up into a soft smile as she gazed at the lower part of his leg for ten, twenty, thirty seconds.
Ari held out her hand, pointed at his leg, and again asked, “May I?”
Jake nodded, heart slamming in his chest like he’d just completed an Ironman. In what seemed like slow motion, Ari reached out and ran her fingers along his ankle, over the top of his foot in a circle once, twice, and then underneath on his sole. Her countenance was tinged with tenderness and a sadness Jake didn’t understand. Time stretched as he waited for her to look at him again.
When she did there was moisture in her eyes. “So temporary, these costumes we wear.” She placed
both her hands on his foot and gazed at him. “You won’t get to carry these symbols of freedom much longer, you know.”
“Freedom?”
“How tragic to live a life where you are loved for what you are instead of who you are. You were given freedom from that curse—if you choose to live in it.”
Jake fixed his eyes on her, not sure how to respond.
“As I was saying, a day is coming soon where we will discard these costumes and put on our true clothes and wear them for ages that do not end.”
Jake could only nod.
“No more hiding, Jake. If you want to live, you cannot hide any longer.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back, then released his hand, stood, and settled back into the hammock.
“I’d like to see you again,” he said. “Soon. See where you and I might be headed.”
“Don’t say that, Jake.”
“What?”
“Just don’t.” Ari looked down and shook her head. “There is no us. And there won’t be.”
Heat shot through Jake. After what had just happened, her outright acceptance of him, he had expected a significantly different reaction. He leaned back and a puff of disbelief shot out his mouth.
“Wait a minute. I’m not asking to get engaged. I’m simply saying I’d like to have a cup of coffee, get together and take one day at a time, see where things lead.”
“No.” Ari glanced everywhere but at him. When she finally did look his way, he saw tears gathering in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“What is going on?” Jake glanced around to make sure their conversation was still private. “Did I imagine what went on between us these past days? Either there was a connection, or I’m crazy.”
Ari stepped off the hammock, went over to the fire pit, and brought back a chair. She set it directly across from Jake and sat in it, crossing her legs. By the time she settled in, her eyes were dry and her face had grown cold.
“Jake?” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I like you. Very much. Was there a spark between us? Yes. I think we both know that, and it would be untruthful of me not to admit it. But when I told you that second night that I wasn’t looking for a relationship? It wasn’t just a line to be coy or playful. I meant it. It has nothing to do with you other than the fact you’re male. If we were in a different time of life and a different set of circumstances, yes, a hesitant maybe. But that time and those circumstances are not now.”
The Long Journey to Jake Palmer Page 22
