Authors: Diane Nelson
My father’s mind never recovered. To this day we were collateral damage, allowing him the emotional distance that kept him out of institutions and out of our lives in any significant sense. My mother on the other hand reluctantly accepted my gifts and the opportunities they offered.
The one thing she never accepted was me making that my dream.
“Means and ends. Sounds a little like my dad.” His voice was soft and deep, remembering. “Me and my brother, Cade, we outgrew the horses pretty quick. Cade’s my twin. Runs in the family.”
He rose to tap instructions onto the control panel on the six-person hot tub and gestured for me to join him. We stepped down a level, then one more onto a forest floor carpeted with moss and dried leaves.
“Watch your step. Got some holes alongside the path.”
I didn’t see a path exactly, just a faint opening between dense brush, twiggy new growth oak and maple and the occasional stand of rhododendron. I crunched my way behind Jack, admiring the view.
His shoulders were immense and well-muscled, not weight builder hefty, but substantial and he covered ground with a loose-hipped stride I could barely match. It wasn’t long before I was huffing and puffing while he continued with his story about growing up Texan, living—for me—the American dream.
“Yeah, my dad knew neither me or Cade was gonna take up ranching. We was both growing too fast. Then my twin discovered girls and I found my own form of religion.” He raised his right hand, palming an imaginary basketball.
“So your
huff
dad
puff
supported you?”
Jack slowed down and whispered, “I’m sorry, darlin’.” The Texas drawl was thick and smooth as velvet. He held out a hand and pulled me alongside.
We’d been climbing a steep rise. With Jack firmly clasping my left hand he half-dragged, half-lifted me the rest of the way to a narrow ridge.
“Look down there.”
“What am I loo—? Oh, wait…” I dropped my voice and crouched down to watch the scene unfolding before me. “Beavers.”
“Yeah. They set up shop last year. Ponded the stream in no time, been expanding it ever since.”
Moving for a better viewpoint I found a spot free of rocks and settled onto my butt, my arms wrapped around my knees. Jack moved in behind me, his long legs straddling me until I nested into the cradle of his warm body, his hands resting lightly on my thighs.
To my credit, I didn’t twitch, my attention zeroing in on the two beavers busily going about their business.
“Do they have young?”
“Not this year. Least ways, I don’t think so.”
His hands left my thighs. The vacated skin felt cold in the humid, still air. But his strong legs continued to grip me, pulling my body squarely into his massive chest. My torso vibrated to each ragged breath, his lungs drawing in great gulps of air, in, out, in, out.
Then it stopped. He’d withdrawn. Mentally I prepared myself to get up and leave. He’d brought me to his secret place and shared a moment in time with me.
That was more than Robert had ever done.
Gathering my legs under me I prepared to lunge forward but his thighs scissored me in a vice grip, anchoring me in place. I could have felt trapped. Instead I felt safe.
“Whose idea was this?” He was pawing at the braids, gently releasing the tangle of knotted hair from the restraining hairband.
“Chazz. Um, it was sort of his idea. He had help.”
“Jesus, not Seimone.”
I giggled, “Yes, Seimone,” still keeping my voice low, not wanting to disturb or chase off the diligent creatures working hard below us.
Snorting gently, he murmured, “She does most of my boys.” When he said it, it sounded the way I’d first taken it. “But Seimone’s okay.” I had no idea what that meant.
Jack tugged at the individual bands securing the ends of each braid. My scalp had itched terribly when Seimone had first done ‘the arrangement’ as she called it. Coach’s fumbling brought that sensation back tenfold.
When he asked, “Do you mind if I take them out?” I merely hummed my assent.
Time went into some form of stasis. Nothing seemed to move other than the slow meandering of the beavers in the pond below us, the wake lapping at the mini-shoreline and dissipating on the clay and gravel basin. Other than an occasional crack of a dry limb moving in a breeze too high up to impact us in the lower reaches of the forest, not a twitter or rustle could be heard. All things wild were napping.
Jack’s fingers were magic as he unraveled the strands.
“I’m going to leave some in,” he tapped on my skull, not quite at the dome, “just enough to give me something to—” He abruptly stopped and took a shallow breath.
“Um, to what?”
“Nothing.”
Nothing was something. I wanted closure. Call me a girl. Was he about to say ‘something I can run my hands through’?
Please let it be that.
Instead he pulled me close, arms embracing me, head resting lightly on top of mine. Reflex had me fingering the rings.
“There’s five of us.” I tensed, then realized he was picking up where he’d left off before we’d found the pond. “Cade ’n me are the only boys. He didn’t want nothing to do with ranching so he took off when he was seventeen. Didn’t hear for a while but it worked out.”
“How so.”
“Him and the youngest, Agnes, both ended up in the military. Cade in the Army, Aggie in the Navy. Both done some tours and are out now. Got jobs. Married. Couple kids each.”
That sounded nice. Normal. I said as much.
“What about the others?” meaning his sisters.
“Anne and Astride,” he choked on a laugh and continued, “Mom was determined to use the letter ‘A’ until she got her some boys.”
“So, shouldn’t you and your brother have names beginning with ‘B’?”
“Yeah, you’d think but the granddaddy’s had a word first, I’m guessing. I’m named after mom’s father, Cade after my dad’s oldest brother.”
“Did anyone stay on the ranch?”
“Funny thing was, Cade moved back, along with Agnes. Astride and her family live close and help out. We tend to like big families where we come from.”
Jack’s thumbs circled the fleshy bits nestled on his arms. The movement did little to distract me from concentrating on the hard length of his erection pressing solidly on my lower back.
“So, you went military too,” I could feel his chin nodding against my scalp, “and then college and now here?” I was worming my way to the real questions. The ones that would pull the rug from under my feet, metaphorically speaking.
“I met Racine at Virginia Tech. I was still a grad student. She played forward. We, uh, got on good.”
That seemed like an odd way to put it. There was no way to see his face but tension in his upper body was a dead giveaway. Everything around us stilled, his thumbs, his breathing, even the air settled in a dome of silence over top of us.
Jack’s voice seemed to echo down a long tunnel. “Racine got pregnant. She didn’t tell me until it was too late. It was the end of her career. Almost the end of mine.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Racine’s … black.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. You have to understand, back then they just paid lip service to interracial marriages, especially in the south. Anyway, I did the right thing. Went against both our families’ wishes. We had my girls, I got work, made enough to support us doing a job I loved.”
A long silence followed. What came next would be painful. I liked this man … a lot. There was no need for him to air his grief.
Apparently Jack Ryan thought differently.
“We came up here but Racine never fit in. She hated it here. She’d escaped a small town in Tupelo. This wasn’t what she wanted.”
“Jack…”
“She left, just up and left. Packed a bag. Walked out the door. Didn’t even call for somebody to look in on the girls. They were five at the time. Neighbor lady called me at the gym. Heard the girls crying in the apartment.”
I husked, “Oh Jack, I’m so sorry.”
I wanted to turn around, hold him, comfort him but he refused to release me. His chin settled on my left shoulder, the words muffled.
“I sent them to live with Annie, my oldest sister. There was no way for me to care for them. Not with traveling, coaching. The hours are killers.” I nodded understanding. “I did what I thought was right.”
Before I could process what I’d learned, Jack scrambled to his feet. I followed suit, both of us swaying from the effort.
He leaned in and cupped my face in his huge hands. I swallowed once, twice … waiting. I thought he might kiss me. Instead he whispered, “Thank you,” and took my hand, leading me back to the house.
The steam from the heated water in the hot tub rose like a silver veil in the approaching twilight. I’d lost track of time.
The excuses came quickly.
Thank you for a pleasant afternoon.
I need to get home now.
I have to get ready for tomorrow…
I’m sure you have things to do.
“Stay, Jes. Just a little longer. You need to soak, otherwise you won’t be able to move tomorrow.”
While I watched, dumbfounded, the man stripped, laid his glasses on the table, and climbed into the super-heated water with a sigh. And for an instant I wondered if everything he’d confided in me had been a ploy, a ruse to relax me and to bring me to this point. Softened, suppled, sympathetic.
“I won’t touch you. Not unless you want me to. I promise.”
Biting my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, I wallowed in my misgivings. Then I made a decision. An adult decision.
“Turn around.”
Jack stared, confused.
“Turn. Around.”
“Oh, yeah.” He put his back to me and I clearly heard, “Fucking rules,” but there was a hint of laughter in the tone.
With trembling hands, wishing I had Kathy Bates’ big brass ones, I undressed and climbed into the glorious heat, taking a seat as far away as I could from a completely naked, gorgeous man.
He was humming again.
…forty-five bottles of beer…
Chapter 7: Turnabout
Hisses and gurgles aside, the advancing dusk painted the deck and the woods in shades of mellow and a welcome hush. It was as if I’d been, up to that point in time, living with a brass band, all discordant notes, bleating and blaring in that necessary warm-up before the concert began.
That was me. Stretching. Licking my lips. Palming the ball, a quick dribble. Gauging distance. Getting on my game face.
It used to be nothing but net. Now it was ‘poised to launch’. The problem was … launch where?
The man sitting across from me, the man staring at me with questions and no small amount of curiosity, offered a way to begin my own personal symphony of one.
I didn’t know why. Perhaps I should have cared. Worried even.
He, and a woman who’d never, ever, had my best interests at heart, held purse strings and paperwork that gave me leave to jump off the cliff. Or to make the slam dunk.
Tonia I got, I really did. There was nothing that couldn’t be bought and paid for, including me … and my daughter. She’d bought Robert’s partnership, backed his run during the election, financed Loretta’s education, made judicial—and wasn’t
that
just the most appropriate term—contributions to smooth the way for everyone and everything that mattered to her and her precious reputation.
Robert’s coming election? Snap. A messy divorce? Snap. No problem too big, no person too small.
I smiled. I’d like to think I’d graduated out of the ‘small’ to ‘major thorn in the side of’ category.
When it came to Tonia, I lived to irritate.
Coach Ryan raised an eyebrow and scooted one seat closer.
I am the iceberg, see me bob.
With the light slanting through the trees my floating parts weren’t quite so obvious in the dimming light. I crouched further down into the foam and bubbles, stretching my legs to brace against the opposite platform, my chin kissed with effervescent heat.
It was glorious.
He touched my shoulder and said, “Your turn.”
“Why? You already have a complete dossier on me, don’t you?” There was resentment there I forgot to mask. Looking away quickly just emphasized my discomfort.
The hand caressed my upper arm, squeezing gently. Assuring me.
But of what?
What’s in it for you? Other than your job and a chance to make head coach somewhere down the line. Or snag a better offer at a bigger University, a bigger stage. Maybe get to the Big Dance, maybe go pro.
Tonia’s checkbook held so many possibilities it staggered the imagination.
But there was no need to go the extra step. No reason for the fifty large and fuck her routine he seemed bent on pursuing.