by Jo Frances
Chase had cut them all out of his life.
When she read that the NBA league had closed their case against him with a one year suspension, Jamie began to allow herself some hope that Chase would reach out. The house she shared with her brother was only a few blocks away from his, and Jamie began using a route that would take her past his house every time she went out. Just in case she’d know if he had come back. She knew how much he loved his house. But one day a moving van was parked in front of the house, and she pulled her car up behind it. A man she had never seen before was directing a crew of people into packing Chase’s house.
“Stop!” she demanded. “Who are you? What are you doing?”
The man turned towards her with a smirk. “Who are you?”
“I’m…I’m the owner’s girlfriend. Jamie.” she stammered.
He nodded, apparently recognizing her from the tabloids. “Yeah, yeah. I know you. Dave.” They shook hands, and his eyes flicked over her body before it glanced back at his clipboard. “Well, Jamie, I can’t really tell you anything except what’s obvious. We’re packing everything up.”
“How do I know you aren’t robbing Chase’s house?” she asked with more force than she knew she had.
Dave laughed at her cruelly. “Seems to me your…boyfriend isn’t telling you much these days, is he?”
Refusing to show him how humiliated she felt, Jamie turned, and with her head held high, got in her car and drove away. Allowing herself a glance through her rear view mirror, she saw Dave sarcastically waving, “buh-bye” to her as she left.
Now here in front of her was another, final sign that Chase wasn’t coming back. She had set up her email accounts to alert her anytime Chase’s name was mentioned online, and this morning she saw one entitled, “Athletes behaving badly”. Clicking through, Jamie had gasped as she saw two side-by-side pictures. The first was of Chase and the actress Amy Weatherby posing for a picture together: Chase in a tuxedo, Amy in a low cut dress. The next picture was of Chase in the same tux, without the tie, flagging a cab down in the morning. The caption read, “Amy still loves the bad boys”, then in smaller print, “According to guests at the event, sparks flew when Amy Weatherby, 31, and NBA player Chase Reston, 22, met at the Founder’s Ball. Now we can tell you: the sparks must have turned into something else, because here’s the erstwhile baller, leaving Amy’s apartment the next morning.”
Jamie looked at the pictures closely, waves of jealousy washing over her. Chase loved women and he loved sex, so she knew he wouldn’t be alone for long. But she wasn’t prepared to see him in the society pages, or to be linked to as big an actress as Amy Weatherby. Chase hadn’t just left her, he had left her behind.
She wondered if there was something wrong with her that she felt the seeds of anger towards Chase. He wasn’t partying with strippers and blowing his money on $400 bottles of champagne, like someone who was hurting. No, he was cold-heartedly doing all the right things for himself and for his career. He was going to be all right. It was time for her to let him go.
Chapter Six
Chase’s new life was different in a way he didn’t like. He was living in a new city, sleeping with someone new and for the first time since he was six years old, he didn’t belong to a basketball team. There were also the little things; like finding a new gym to work out in. As good as it felt to sweat and lift, to feel that familiar ache, the environment also had to be right. This one was close to his apartment and the crowd was young and attractive, but it was so damn small…probably not by New York standards, but he couldn’t help but feel cramped when he could hear music coming through the headphones of the guy in the treadmill next to him.
Another change was that he gave up the house in L.A. Steve wanted him to sell it, but that was the one thing Chase stood firm on. “As long as I have enough left over to pay the mortgage every month, I’m keeping it.” His beautiful Spanish style house represented everything that had been good in his life. Words like cabana, bougainvillea, and even caulk entered his vocabulary now. He had people who worked for him, and helped him keep the house in shape.
There was Yoji, the gardener who came twice a month. He patiently explained to Chase the plants and flowers on his property, and Chase grew to appreciate the bougainvillea that Yoji was training to grow around the front of the house, and the two different types of lemon trees (one in the front yard, the other in the back) he had. Pawpaw was the pool man; a self-described failed actor who expected Chase to fire him when he forgot to remove the pool cover before Chase returned from a road trip.
There was Augusta his housekeeper, a quiet woman with sad eyes. Chase understood that the way she kept his house clean, did his laundry and organized the food was the way she would have taken care of the son she left back in her native country. Augusta, unlike his own mother, always made sure his clothes were pressed, there was food that he liked in the pantry and the house was spotless.
They were also one of the reasons he didn’t want to sell his house. He knew the economy was tough; Yoji told him he only had four customers now when he used to have ten. Chase knew Augusta sent most of her money back home and kept very little for herself. He knew this because of the way she would ask if he was going to throw out the day-old bread from the bakery that Jamie liked, or his takeout from the night before. When he said yes, she would nod gratefully and put them in her tote bag before heading home. Chase recognized the pattern ---as a child he learned to watch for things that other people didn’t want and ask for them. It may have been a pair of shoes that a friend’s mom considered too worn, or a desk that some college students were dragging to the curb. They filled the need when Evelyn’s checks weren’t enough. He wasn’t going to take that away from Augusta---who knew what what would happen to her?
He couldn’t explain all of this to Steve, so he simply said, “I’m not selling my house.”
Steve shook his head. “But why? You said you don’t want to go back there, and it’s costing you a lot of money just sitting there. You could sell it, take the equity and be a little more liquid.”
“I said I didn’t want to go back there yet. But that’s the first thing I’ve owned, and I can see myself going back there…someday.”
In the end, Steve came up with a good solution: they would rent it out for a year, then see where Chase was going to play. Even better, Chase had wisely put down such a large deposit on the house that the amount of money they could rent it for was more than his mortgage payments. A condition of the rental was that Yoji, Pawpaw and Augusta were to be retained by the renters.
This didn’t really explain why he was still in New York, though. While they were dealing with the charges, it was important to be in town for last minute meetings with Steve and the lawyers. But there wasn’t any need for that anymore. The answer, Chase decided, was that New York kept him from feeling too lonely. There were a few different guys from the league he could always hang out with, and they were all on the VIP lists of the hot clubs. He wasn’t normally into that scene, but it felt like the thing to do here.
Growing up in Florida, he was used to warm weather year round, and he knew he didn’t want to stick around for the winter. But L.A. held too many memories for him; too many people he knew who were connected to Jamie and his old life. New York, at least, was anonymous. He knew a few people here and it seemed as good a place as any to wait out the next stage in his life.
His phone buzzed: it was Amy. Chase sighed. It had only been two days since they met, and there was already more about him on the celebrity blogs than there ever had been about his playing basketball.
Do you want to get together tonight? the text read.
Chase put more weight on the bar as he considered. This hurt that he was carrying around was growing everyday, and he didn’t like it. He could feel it threatening to engulf him, this sadness. He knew that if he allowed it, he could lose even more than he already had. Two years
ago, he didn’t think this much about how he was going to spend his time. Some girls lasted longer than the others, but he never thought beyond that night. Now here was Amy fucking Weatherby asking HIM out and he was acting like a little punk about it. Yeah, he really had to get himself together.
What are we doing? he wrote back.
Within seconds she answered: come over and find out. Chase wasn’t sure if Helene had coached Amy, but on his way back from the gym, Helene called.
“So how did it go the other night?” she asked when he answered.
Feeling like a contest on some kind of bachelor show, he said, “I’m not sure how to answer that, why don’t you tell me?”
“Amy likes you,” Helene told him.
“Yeah, I got that.” There was a pause on the other end, and Chase worried he had gone too far. Helene would have been paid no matter what---this thing with Amy was a bonus, and it wasn’t her fault he wasn’t feeling it. He told Helene this, and she softened her tone.
“Listen, I respect you, Chase, I really do. You got a bad break that would make men twice your age fold up.” She paused, and got to her point. “So, if you’re ok with Amy, I think you should keep going with this. It gets everyone’s mind off seeing you as a gambler---” Helene corrected herself before Chase could interrupt. “---accused gambler, and more as a celebrity. And who knows, you might even get to like her.”
“Why would that matter?” Chase was suddenly worried that he was going to get trapped in a relationship.
Helene made clicked her tongue. “Because you’re heartbroken. And no one thinks straight when they’re heartbroken.”
Admitting to himself that she was right, he told her they were seeing each other that night. As if Helene didn’t already know.
Chapter Seven
Jamie
Manhattan Beach is a small community just south of L.A. It’s a place where middle class families raise their children inland, with the area gradually becoming more expensive and younger the closer you got to the beach. The place Jamie shared with her brother was close to the ocean, and close to the strand of bars, coffee shops and restaurants packed with singles on the prowl during the weekends.
But early in the morning, the beach provided glimpses of what life must have been like fifty years earlier; when the area was inhabited by locals watching the surfers. This was Jamie’s favorite time to go to the beach, and she gradually began extending her morning jogs just to spend more time out there. Even though she knew it wasn’t helping her, she also liked being out there because it reminded her of Chase. They discovered the area together when he first moved out here from North Carolina, and every time she went out here, she felt a little bit closer to him.
She was walking home from one of these workouts when her phone buzzed with a call from her mom. “Hey mom.”
“Hello sweetheart.” Frances Cameron never called her children by their names. They were honey, darling, sugar bug… and of course, sweetheart. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m ok.” Ever since she and Chase had broken up, her mom made it a point to talk to her every day. And though she would never admit it, Jamie grew to rely on these phone calls as a lifeline to the people who loved her, and would never leave her.
They exchanged the typical information between mother and daughter; her upcoming travel schedule, her mother’s latest book club selection. Then:
“Honey, I’m so glad you’re going to be in town for a while.” Frances paused awkwardly, and Jamie’s mom radar immediately went on red alert. “You know, your daddy and I have gotten close to this nice couple; the Bixby’s. Have I told you about them?”
“I think so---Lynn Bixby is the state Senator, right?”
“Yes, yes, that’s right.” Another pause. This can’t be good, Jamie thought. “Well, the Bixby’s have three boys, and the youngest one, Adam, is moving out to L.A.---”
“Mom! No.” She couldn’t think of anything worse than being set up by her mother.
“No to what? I’m just asking you if you can be nice to him when he comes out there---he won’t know anyone, and it may be nice for him to meet you AND your brother.”
“So why aren’t you having this conversation with Luke?” Jamie jumped up on one of the retaining walls to watch the waves. She had a good point, and her mother knew it.
“I’m not trying to fix you up, dear, just trying to do something nice for a friend.” Jamie knew this was true---her mother prized honesty above just about any other characteristic---but perhaps there was a wish in there for her to move on from Chase. “Of course it’s up to you, but I think it would be a lovely gesture for you to invite him someplace fun.”
A lovely gesture… someplace fun. God, what she would give to live in her mother’s world, where everything and everyone was so lovely.
The bitterness of her thoughts made Jamie feel guilty. If her mother saw the world this way, perhaps it was because she had earned that right, by always seeing the best in everyone. It wasn’t her mother’s fault that Chase left her. Feeling like a jerk, Jamie tempered her voice and said pleasantly, “OK, mom. Why don’t you give him my number, and I’ll take it from there.”
Less than a week later, Jamie opened the door to find Adam Bixby at her front step. Even though it was his mother who was the Senator, Adam had a name, face and demeanor that was made for politics. His angular face, large ice blue eyes and closely cropped wheat colored hair brought to mind old photographs of World War II heroes returning from home. That, and according to Google he had a sweet smile that could charm almost anyone.
“Hey Adam,” she said to him, awkwardly shaking the hand that was being offered. “Nice to meet you.” Even as she said it, Jamie felt as if something was off---it didn’t feel as if she were meeting him for the first time. “I mean, we are just meeting, right? You look so familiar…”
Adam nodded, a mischievous grin on his face. “We might have before. I mean, since our parents know each other and all.”
Jamie led him into the kitchen, then out to the backyard where Luke was tending to his beloved barbeque. “Luke, Adam’s here.”
Judging from Luke’s overly friendly demeanor, Jamie realized that her mother wasn’t the only one who was hoping the two of them would connect. “Hey, how’s it going? Beer?”
“No, but I’ll have what you’re drinking.” Adam gestured to a bottle of water next to Luke.
Luke reached into the cooler and tossed it. Adam caught the bottle mid air with one hand. “Good catch, man.”
Is this some kind of primitive ritual involving fire and skills testing?, Jamie thought as she watched the two of them.
“How long have you been in LA?” Luke asked him.
“I’ve been out here a couple of times, interviewing and all, but I moved into my condo last Thursday.” If Adam felt he was being sized up by her brother, he didn’t show it, his smile never wavering.
“Cool. Well, we’ve got a couple of our friends from back home coming, so you’ll get to know a lot more people real quick.”
“ I ‘ppreciate that.”
Later, when the barbeque was in full swing, Jamie found herself spending a lot of time with Adam. I’m just being polite, she told herself. He’s our guest after all. But as she walked around picking up empty serving bowls and a few forgotten water bottles, he came out with a garbage bag from the kitchen. “Need a hand?” he asked politely.
“No… um… yeah, actually, that would be great.” They walked through the house together, and she marveled at how natural he seemed with her, with Luke, and with their friends. It’s no surprise, she told herself. We come from the same background. Of course he’d fit right in.
Chapter Seven
Chase
Without school, without a job, Chase felt lost. Steve Green was working on projects for him, and occasionally they would meet with an ad agency or sports m
arketer, but for the most part Chase’s life revolved around two things: his workouts and his social life.
Because of this, his relationship with Amy became more established and a bigger part of his life than his emotions would have wanted. He worked out, he trained, he hung out with his friends. But it still left plenty of time for her. She tried hard to make him happy, and for the most part being a part of her life was fun. Free perks, free meals, free travel. It was also better than being alone even though he had to admit that she was just as much of a stranger to him as when they first met.
Today, Amy greeted him at the door with a warm hug as if they were some kind of long established couple. It reminded him of the way Jamie used to greet him when he came home from a road trip. “Are you hungry?” she asked with a knowing smile.
Chase pretended to be shocked. “Damn, baby, let me get inside the apartment first,” he joked. Jamie would have had a comeback for that; Amy only shook her head impatiently. “No, we’re going to a dinner party. With some actor friends of mine.” She kept her arm wrapped around his waist as if she were afraid he was going to run away from her.
“A dinner party? Uh, that’s not my thing,” he told her firmly. He gestured to his casual clothes. “Besides, I’m not dressed for it.” Chase immediately regretted giving her this excuse because she swatted it away immediately. “No, no, it’s totally casual--everyone will be in jeans,” she insisted. “Please, Chase, I really want you to meet my friends, and they totally want to meet you.”
“Why is this such a big deal?” he was surprised at her reaction.
Amy looked at him, annoyed. “Because we’re supposed to be dating, remember? And this is what you do when you’re dating, you meet each other’s friends.” She moved towards him, the promise of sex in her eyes. “I know what you came here for, and you’ll get it.” Then her expression changed, hardened. “But we have stuff we need to do… for our jobs.”
