Admission (10 page)

“Stay out of this, preppy.”

Jake got to the group and pulled Alec’s arm. His friend turned around, ready to belt him.

“Whoa,” Jake said. “Chill, man. It’s me.”

“Oh, here we go. The crippled to the rescue.”

Jake smiled it off, knowing he was referring to the splint on his hand. “Erwin, man—why don’t you realize nobody wants you here.”

“Psycho-boy didn’t like hearing the truth.”

Alec spit out a few more curses.

“Alec, shut up for a minute. Would you guys just relax?”

“I’m relaxed,” Brian said.

Behind him stood another jock with blond hair and freckles and arms the size of watermelons.

“Alec, come on,” Jake said, figuring this was a bad battle to get into.

“Why don’t you ask him why he suddenly bailed on you last year? Huh? What’s the story, Alec? Huh?”

“Brian, man,” Franklin said, going over to him.

“I said stay out of this. This has nothing to do with you.”

Jake still held Alec back.

“I swear I’ll kill you, man, I swear—” Alec continued to rant.

“Your mom had a little meltdown, huh? Right? He tell you that, Jake? Doesn’t look like it. Your little friend there has bigger problems than just his drinking.”

“Shut up!” Franklin yelled.

Alec started to charge at Brian, and all Jake could do was ride along. The big guy didn’t move much as Alec landed a shoulder against him. He just slammed Alec’s head back to the ground.

“I’ll hurt you, man,” Brian said, now leaning over Alec, one hand on Alec’s face, keeping him down.

It all happened in seconds. Jake looked to his side and saw Carnie smoking a cigarette. He grabbed it with his right hand, still in a splint, the white piece looking like a glove. Then he swooped over and came up behind Brian and put out the cigarette on his generous forehead.

It looked like something out of a movie. The half-f
kitchen exploded in both laughter and gasps. Brian cursed and screamed a big “Owww!” before a quick right arm sent Jake flying back against the refrigerator.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jake said in a mocking tone. “I must’ve missed the ashtray. It looked the same.”

Brian stared at Jake for a second to register what had just happened. Then the kitchen and the rest of the house broke out in pandemonium.

Carnie drove Jake home while the rest of the guys tried to clean up the damage. Franklin, Bruce, and a bunch of other guys broke up the fight and got Brian out of the house before things turned uglier. Then they got Jake out in case Brian came back.

“Where’s Alec?”

Carnie shook his head, another cigarette in his mouth. “Disappeared. Probably with some girl.”

Jake was still out of breath, still angry, still fuzzy in the head. He recalled the series of names he had called Brian.

“Did you hear what he said about Alec?”

Carnie nodded.

“Is it true?”

“Probably,” Carnie said.

“I’m so sick of that guy. Walks around campus thinking it should be named after him. They lost in a play-off game. He’s not going to play in the NBA. Who’s he kidding?”

“You put out a cigarette on his head,” Carnie said in a passionless tone, as if to remind Jake.

“A guy thinks because he’s some basketball stud with a free pass to do jack around here means he can say and do anything and I’m sorry but he can’t.”

“Some people won’t change.”

“Yeah, but some things are off-limits,” Jake said. “Hey, give me a smoke.”

Carnie looked at him as if he was nervous to give him one.

“Just hand one over, smart aleck.”

He handed Jake a cigarette. “You’re lucky we got you out of there before Chad could come after you.”

“Who’s Chad?”

“Brian’s friend. The blond-haired guy the size of a tractor.”

“I don’t care if he has the whole team with him.”

“Neesa wasn’t too happy,” Carnie said, starting to chuckle.

“Who’s Neesa?”

“The girl whose house we helped destroy.”

“It’s her own fault.”

They drove for a while, heading toward Burritoville. Nothing topped off a good night of drinking and fighting better than a nice steak burrito with no beans and sour cream. That and a handful of carrots and jalapeños.

It was close to one-thirty in the morning.

After eating the football-sized burritos, a glassy-eyed Jake was finally calmed down.

“Think that’s true about Alec’s mom?” he asked again.

“Don’t know,” was all Carnie said. He was lost in burrito love.

“I’m tired of seeing Brian at every party, seeing those white teeth of his.”

Carnie nodded.

“He wanted to get in a fight. The guy has had something against me ever since I stole the school mascot and they went on that losing streak.”

“I helped.”

“I did the time. I take the credit.”

Carnie, face full of a thick beard that didn’t take him long to grow, nodded again. “Two more notches to add to the belt.”

“What belt?” Jake asked.

“The Providence lore. The stories of legend.”

“And what notches are those?”

“Jumping off the roof. And putting out a smoke on Brian’s forehead.”

They both laughed.

“Did you see his look?” Jake asked with a proud look.

“I’ll carry it to my grave,” Carnie said.

“That guy got busted drinking sophomore year. Just like
me. They didn’t do squat to him. Me they send to outpatient counseling.”

“You need it.”

“Brian had it coming.”

“Yeah,” Carnie said. He hesitated.

“What?”

“He’s not going to forget about this. Not Brian.”

Jake only shrugged.

ALYSSA STROLLED INTO
the restaurant, turning heads and doing serious damage to my already fragile heart. “Breathtaking” was such a trite phrase to describe the way she looked. She wore a long, breezy dress with a black, white, and blue floral pattern and a black top that tied around her neck and revealed bare shoulders and arms. Her dark hair was pulled back and tied with a white scarf. And even from where I stood, waiting at the table for her, I could tell she was more made up, more polished than the other night.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, a shy smile on her red lips.

“That was worth the wait.”

“What?”

“Seeing you walk across the room. I think I need to sit down.”

“Stop it.”

We sat, and I couldn’t help but say, “You look incredible tonight.”

“Thank you. The thought of going out somewhere fancy—I probably made more of it than I should have. It’s just—it’s been awhile.”

“You’re telling me. Sorry I don’t clean up as well.”

I wore khaki pants and a light blue button-down shirt with
sleeves that I had rolled up. I hadn’t packed for this trip thinking that I would be going on a date with Alyssa Roberts.

“This is a nice place you picked,” I said to her as someone poured her a glass of water.

“I’ve only heard about it from others.”

The name of the restaurant was The Carriage House, and it was about fifteen minutes from Summit in the town of Burr Ridge. Everything about it was dark and fancy—the entrance and the doors opening up to the inside, the heavy oak tables, the shadows and muted light, the corner nooks like the one our table was located in. There was a steady and laid-back dining crowd here for the night.

The waiter came up and announced specials and then asked for our drink orders.

“You like wine?” I asked the stunning woman across the table from me.

“I guess it never hurts to start.”

I grinned and looked at the menu, then named off a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

The waiter, a well-groomed man in his late forties, took the wine menu and nodded. “Very good choice, sir.”

Alyssa seemed impressed. “So—you’re a wine connoisseur?”

“Hardly. It just sounded good. And looked expensive. You’ve had wine, right?”

Alyssa shook her head.

“What? Never?”

“No. Kyle always tried to get me to have a glass. He said I was such—” Alyssa stopped herself and apologized.

“You didn’t say anything,” I assured her.

“I didn’t mean to start out right away with—” She looked away.

“Alyssa? You can say anything you want tonight. And do whatever you want. Okay?”

“That could be frightening.”

“Or it could be really good for you. Just—look. There’s no pressure about anything here.”

“The Carriage House seems a little more intimidating than Starbucks.”

“So does your outfit, but I’m not complaining. You picked this for a reason.”

“Oh, I picked it for a reason.” She paused for a moment. “The question is whether or not I should tell you why.”

“You can tell me anything you want or nothing at all.”

“Really?”

“Sure. And if I’m not getting anywhere, then I’ll have to get you really loaded with cheap wine.”

“I thought it was expensive.” She smiled.

“Whatever.”

We shared a look that felt like yesterday and like so much more, and it was finally interrupted by the waiter bringing the bottle of wine and pouring me a sample. I went through the motions of swirling and smelling and tasting it.

“Hmm,” I said, putting on an act to amuse Alyssa. “Amazing. Taste a hint of blackberry with a slight cedar and even a bit of currant. Smooth and moderately long.”

Alyssa looked at me for a moment, and I didn’t give anything away.

“You know a lot about wine.”

“I just made that all up,” I said. “But it sounded good, didn’t it?”

Alyssa laughed. The sound felt comforting.

Eleven years and a hard knock on the back of my head almost seemed worth it just for the time spent with Alyssa over dinner. To call it magical makes it sound imaginary. It was the freshest and most intimate conversation I had held in years, and I couldn’t help but think that a little wine had something to do with it. At least it calmed down my nerves; surely it did the same for her. We talked about everything. Providence College, of course, and friends and acquaintances from long ago. But each subject morphed into another, and from that came a revelation or an amazing anecdote. I listened, savoring each word like it was fine food.

There were no hidden agendas or awkward pauses. We had a history, and from day one of that history, Alyssa had known where I stood. I liked to think that some time during college, I had begun to understand where Alyssa came from, but I still
didn’t know for sure. And now, here was a grown-up woman, more beautiful than I could have imagined, living a life I wouldn’t have believed until she described it in person.

“Kyle was having an affair,” she finally told me, after our dinner plates had been cleared and we continued working on that first bottle of wine.

“I’m sorry.”

“It had to be something like that, right? I know you were wondering—if you hadn’t already heard.”

“I didn’t know. I’m really sorry.”

“A friend of mine saw him out with this really gorgeous and younger blonde. I mean—he wasn’t even trying to hide it.”

I didn’t say anything. I wanted her to continue to open up.

“You want to know the funny thing? The sad thing, I guess. The reason I’m probably messed up for life?”

“Alyssa, you’re not messed up.”

“Want to know where she saw Kyle and his bimbo? Here. At The Carriage House. Maybe even sitting somewhere cozy, like we are now.”

I hated hearing this, hating knowing that the jerk who had ended up with the biggest hope and dream I’d held back in college had deliberately chucked it away. It wasn’t simply that I couldn’t imagine cheating on Alyssa. I couldn’t fathom breaking her heart.

She continued, her face somber and her thoughts somewhere far off. “I just wanted to see the place.”

“When was all this?”

“A couple years ago. It took a year for everything to blow up and then drift away. Kinda like a snowstorm, you know. You get all this heavy snow, and then it eventually gets muddy and ugly, and then it melts away. We tried counseling. He didn’t want it. I guess, in a lot of ways, I didn’t know the guy I married. I was too busy trying to be the perfect wife, the perfect Christian, trying to lead the perfect life with our perfect little family.”

“I might be wrong, but I don’t think such a thing exists.”

“I know that. Now. But try living around here. Imagine the little families with their perfect little homes and kids and all that. It was hard keeping up.”

I smiled. “Why do you think I moved away?”

“You moved because your parents did. Right?”

“Hey, come on. It sounds so noble and adventurous if you leave them out of it.”

“I’ve thought about moving. It’s just—my job. That makes it harder. I mean—I already signed a contract to teach next year, but I’m dreading it. I don’t want to stay around here.”

“Where’s Kyle?”

“He’s still around. I moved out of the house—it was my choice. I couldn’t stomach living there anymore. I’m renting a small place. Divorce is such a wonderful thing, huh?”

“Alyssa—I don’t know what to say.”

“You can say ‘I told you so.’”

“What are you talking about?” I asked her, confused.

“All that babble I used to talk about in college. About finding the right one and about there being a right way and about mistakes and—”

“And you were dead right,” I interrupted.

She shook her head, her eyes intense on mine. “I was heading down a dead-end street.”

“You couldn’t help that you fell in love with a pig.”

“Yes, I could. I should have known better. I guess I was just naïve. The world isn’t the way I thought it was. Not when I was leading my little sheltered life in college.”

“You weren’t naïve.”

“Sure I was,” Alyssa said, finishing her glass of wine. “I was stupid, really. I thought that if you believed in something, that if you really had faith and lived as good a life as possible, things would work out.”

“Bad things happen all the time. Things that are out of our control.”

“You know the church basically ran me out? They didn’t
say
I needed to leave. But my friends, the people I had grown used to being around, suddenly turned their backs on me. They took Kyle’s side when I initiated the divorce. They said I wasn’t acting in a ‘forgiving, Christlike way.’ It was just all so—”

“Alyssa—”

“I haven’t been to church in over a year, can you believe that? Ms. Little Princess is actually angry at God.”

“I don’t think God made your ex decide to hook up with some other chick.”

“What is it about us?”

“Huh?”

“Now you’re on His side?”

I laughed and leaned over to take her hand. “I’m on your side too.”

“I thought if anybody could understand, it’d be you.”

I nodded. “I understand. I understand that life sucks and that there’s this awful, ugly thing called sin that none of us can do anything about. It’s not God’s fault that things happen. We all make decisions and have to live with them.”

“Yeah. But what happens when those decisions are out of your control—when you had
nothing
to do with them? What happens when the mistakes of others end up ruining your life?”

I took a deep breath and thought for a moment. “Sometimes the mistakes of others can bring you closer to where you need to be in life,” I said.

“You believe that?”

“That’s my life in a sound bite.”

“How can you know?”

“I know, Alyssa. I’m not the best at talking about it, but trust me, I know.”

The waiter came around to ask if we wanted dessert.

“I’d like to go home,” Alyssa said.

I told him to bring the check. As he walked away, Alyssa took my hand again.

“Do you want to come home with me tonight?” she asked in a surprisingly direct tone.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to do something I’ll regret. Something
you’ll
regret.”

“Who says we’d regret anything?”

I shook my head, my heart and gut feeling like someone
was using them as a punching bag. “I think the wine agreed with you tonight,” I said.

“It’s not the wine talking.”

“Maybe it is, even just slightly.”

Her dark eyes looked at me, confused and almost frustrated. “We’re not kids, Jake. There are no rules any more.”

“We’re not in college. But there are still rules.”

She sighed. “I don’t get it. Why is it my timing with everything just sucks?”

I chuckled and looked at the beautiful woman across from me. “I think our timing is remarkable, believe it or not.”

Alyssa gently rubbed her shoulder, and I couldn’t help letting my eyes briefly drift over her. How many nights, how many times had I dreamt of being with her?

What are you doing, Jake?

I was doing the right thing. Saying no had never been my strong suit. But I knew this was the best thing tonight.

“Can I—will you be around for a while?” Alyssa asked. “Do you want to do something again? It doesn’t have to be anything formal.”

“I’ll be around. Next time I’ll pick the place, okay?”

She nodded and smiled and looked like the young girl I used to dream about as a student at Providence. I glanced into her gentle eyes and knew that I still loved her, that I had always loved her, and that sometimes, love was an impossible gift to give back.