Jase (12 page)

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Authors: MariaLisa deMora

BOOK: Jase
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Well,
it isn’t as if she asked permission to marry him, eh? We got a call that she was hitched, and then she emailed a picture to Ma.” He twisted and waved, getting the attention of the counter girl who nodded when he pointed to their cups. “On
paper,
he seems
an okay
enough guy, but that picture…” He faked a shiver. “Toad-like.”

Anita
laughed,
the first real laugh he heard from her since sitting down and he smiled. He could see the
cute
that lurked behind the sadness in her eyes, and couldn’t help but draw comparisons between her and the last image he had seen of Sharon. There was sorrow, such as Anita wore like
a dark
cloak, the loss of her father bowing her shoulders, but that kind of sadness could be
endured
. Beyond
sadness
, there was devastation, the hopelessness of which had been present in his sister’s eyes.

“Yeah, toad-like pretty much sums it up. Gave me the shivers, too.” The smile slipped from her face and she glanced up at him. “She had a hard time in school. I’ll never understand why kids are so cruel.” They both pulled back from the table as the waitress approached, and Jase brought out his wallet. He opened it and laughed. “You want some American?”

Anita laughed, reaching for her purse and pulling out four toonies. “Keep the change, Bernie,” she told the waitress, who accepted the coins with a laugh. Turning back to Jase, she said, “It’s the least I can do after you flew all the way up here for Daddy.” Shaking her head hard, she scrunched up her eyes.
Apparently
trying to control her emotions, she lifted a
trembling
hand to cover her mouth.

He softly said, “I’d do it twice over if it would help, Anita. As many times as you needed.” Pressing his lips together tightly, he looked around the room, away from her struggle, trying to give her the illusion of privacy. “So Sharon kept up with you after she left town?” He could distract her with his family’s disaster. “I haven’t talked to her more than two or three times a year since she booked.”

“Booked?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“Yeah, I was overseas when she left, but from what I heard, it wasn’t planned. She just threw stuff in the Jeep and took off.” He shook his head; he was angry with his sister for a long time, because she had stolen his chance to say goodbye. He had let go of that emotion a long time ago. “I’m glad she had a friend to talk to.”

“Jase,” she leaned in, putting her elbows on the table, “she didn’t randomly leave. She had been talking about it for a long time. She planned and saved, had a list of places she was going to go.” Shaking her head, she added, “Of course, that all changed, but it wasn’t a sudden decision.”

“She never said anything to me.” He scowled at the bottom of his mug, raising his head and catching Bernie’s attention again for a refill. “We talked a lot when I was in Russia.”

“Sure, if you call once a month a lot,” she scoffed, and he frowned at her.

“It was
more often than that.” He tapped his thumbs on the edge of the table; he was sorry now he offered Sharon as a topic.
“We talked a lot after her accident.”

“Not from her side of things.” She shook her head. “She talked all the time about missing you.” Anita took a deep breath. “Look, Jase, I know this isn’t any business of mine, but Sharon
was messed
up before she left. She told me more than once that she thought you didn’t want to talk to her anymore. Like you thought what happened was her fault.”

Jase shook his head. “I never said that to—”

She interrupted him, “Not in so many words. But did you ever tell her it was okay?
That it wasn’t her fault?”
Bernie came over with his refill, waving off his attempts to pay
her,
and he smiled his thanks.

He ran a hand across his jaw, feeling the coarse beard with his fingertips. “It wasn’t her fault.” After he
had gone
to Russia
to play hockey in the KHL, Sharon had slipped sideways for a time. She made a lot of questionable
choices,
and started drinking and partying harder than anyone would admit to him for a long time. It wasn’t until after he was home that his mother told him about the baby she lost.

“She got caught up in a slew of pressure, and people who didn’t love her. I think she has to take responsibility for the choices she made.” Even to himself, he sounded self-righteous, and he tried to tone it down. “And by that I mean the decisions to drink and party, not what happened when she was under the influence—because she couldn’t make a decision
at that point
, eh?

“But she knew we loved her. Always, eh? Family sticks like
glue,
and the Spencers have always had each other’s backs. I wish I could tell her, but if she
thought
about it for even a second, she would flat know.” He finished his third cup of coffee and shifted. “Anita, honey, I’ll see you in a couple hours, okay? I have to get home and out of this.” He gestured to his sweat-soaked workout clothes.

Frowning, she moved to get
up,
and he motioned towards her laptop. “Big-time writer, make up some good stuff about me, okay?”

Leaning in, he gave her a hug, squeezing until she squeaked and told him, “All right.”

Depositing his mug in the bin for dishes, he stepped outside and quickly stretched then set off on a slow jog towards his parents’ home, turning his conversation with Anita over in his head. It was
true. H
e had been caught up in the glitz of playing for an overseas league, but he and his sister had
frequently talked.
She never said anything to him about leaving as soon as school was over, making plans…lists of places to visit. She never said anything about the baby, either.

He frowned as he ran, remembering the harsh voices of his parents in the background of some calls. He wondered at what point his mother had known Sharon was going, or if they tried to stop her.
Yeah, she was eighteen when she left, but
the picture he had in his mind was of th
e fourteen-year-old kid
he left
in Red Deer.

He wanted…
needed
to know that she was okay. He decided to call the most recent PI he used. See if the man was willing to take another run at the job of locating her. The last he knew, she was in Florida, but it was a big state.

The empty frame on the hallway wall of his parents’ house must have bothered him more than he
thought,
because he kept circling around it again and again. The Spencers had always been a tight family, good to each other. Just taking down a picture wouldn’t remove her from their thoughts. Couldn’t take her away from their love.

***

Back at the house, he showered and then looked
for
his mother, finding her on the back deck, tossing a ball for one of the neighbors’ dogs. Sitting on the bench next to her, he watched as she threw the ball over and over, each time working hard to coax the dog close enough to surrender it again. “You have a lot more patience than I do, Ma,” he laughed, startling the dog into stepping back.

“No doubt it comes from raising you and your brothers. You boys would try the patience of a saint, and a saint I
ain’t
,” she retorted sharply, then tilted her face at him and grinned.

His smile faded
,
and he looked at her, saying, “And my sister.”

“Yes, I know.” She tossed the ball again, eyes on the dog as it headed out away from them towards the creek that ran through the backyard. “Jesus Murphy, baby boy. Tell me about your love life,” she unsubtly changed the subject, rolling her eyes at him in a warning to drop the topic.

“No time for love, Ma. Sorry to disappoint, but there’s no time for love.” He shifted uncomfortably on the bench and knew his mistake as soon as her eyes zeroed in on him.

“Liar,” she accused. “Tell me what’s going on. That’s what a mother is for, to talk
to
. Well…and cook, take her boys to and from hockey practice, but mostly for talking.” She shook her head, still looking at him.

“I met someone.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “But it didn’t work out. Turned out she wasn’t as interested in me as I thought.” He shrugged, hoping she would leave it at that.

“But you like her?” She pressed him, bumping his shoulder with hers. “You do. You
liiiikkke
her.” Drawing out the word, she laughed, bumping him again.

“Yeah. I liked her. I mean, I like her. She’s incredible. She doesn’t seem afraid of anything, and she’s smart.
Smarter
than me, most definitely.” He laughed. “I’ve never met a woman as secure in just being herself.”

“What happened?”
His mother picked up the ball and tossed it again. They watched the dog run after it and come back, standing just out of reach with the ball, wagging its tail as it looked them over cautiously.

“I had to leave for game five and she
was gone
before I got back into town. No number, no nothing.
As
I said, she wasn’t as interested as I thought.” He sighed and reached out, grabbing the ball from where the dog had finally dropped it near her feet.

“Maybe she got too scared? What if she is interested, but got nervous? Handsome man, big-time hockey player…lots to make a woman nervous about.” She took the ball from his hand and threw it again, then stood, looking down at him with a thoughtful expression on her face. “If you like her, and you want her, I expect you can find her, son. She can’t have gone too far, eh?” She trapped
his
hand on his knee, threading her fingers through his and squeezing tightly.

Bending down, she
put
their faces close together, looking him in the eye. “Go after what you want. I’ve never seen you back down from anything, once you set your sights on it. Like Russia, eh? Scared me silly to think of you over there, playing in that league. Brutish,
big
men. But, you knew it would be good for you, teach you a different
style of the game
. It made you adapt, learn to adjust, and it moved your game forward in ways you could not have found here. You knew that’s what you needed and you went after it. Fearless and bold.

“So just like then, you gotta figure out what you need to do and do it. No excuses. That dirty word has got no place in our house, and you know better, eh? If you want this woman, then go get her. Take the shot, boy. If not, then move on. Neutral ice has its own rules, right? Go after what you want.
Je
t’aime
, Jase.” She cupped the back of his head in her hand, drawing him close to
press
her lips to his forehead in a kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Beauty. When you’re right, you’re right. I love you, too, Mama.”

***

Jase had worked on a brief eulogy for Coach Patterson last
night
and was ready when the pastor motioned him and three other men forward. He nodded at Coach’s widow and Anita, huddled together on the front row in the church. Straightening his jacket, he stepped to the podium, smoothing the paper on which he had written his notes, and spoke confidently to the people gathered in the church. With only good memories of his time
under
Patterson’s expert hand, it had been easy to come up with anecdotes that highlighted the encouraging influence the man had been throughout much of his life.

Before long, it was time to take his place alongside the casket with the other pallbearers, carrying their burden to the waiting vehicle and following it
across
the road to reverse the process to the graveside. Speaking to the family
afterward
, he rolled out the patented condolences he knew
were expected
and then he took his leave, heading back to his parents’ house.

Another night in the too-short childhood bed left him grumpy and ready to go home to his much larger and more comfortable bed in Chicago. He would miss his folks—he always did—and it had been good to see his family, but his life was stateside now. Daniel called while he was waiting in the terminal in his connecting city, and they talked through a few of the tentative player selects for the next year’s team. It was still weeks before the draft, but it sounded like negotiations were moving forward as expected. If things worked
out,
it would be a good team for the next season, another chance at the cup.

On the flight to O’Hare, he sat in first class, staring out the window, earbuds in as he listened to his favorite music list. His mind kept dredging up his mother’s words about how he had never been afraid to go after what he
wanted
and he just needed to decide what he wanted now and
pursue
it.

Leaning his head back against the seat, he remembered DeeDee’s face at the party, when she first caught sight of him headed towards her. She had not even looked back as Slate lifted her by the waist and set her
over
the porch rail; she only had eyes for him. Those blue eyes had darkened to twilight violet by the time he pulled back from kissing her the first time, and she circled around him the rest of the evening. Wandering out to greet groups of friends, but always coming back to him, as if there was a gravitational pull that returned her to him.

Did he want DeeDee? They had proven more than a fit together in
bed;
that was for sure. He smiled and reached down, discretely adjusting his hardening cock at those memories. She eagerly met his every advance between the sheets and given him unrestrained passion in return. He thought they fit together out of bed
too,
if their time spent at Jackson’s and the party were any
indication
.

Okay. So, let’s say I want her
, he thought.
Now what?
She was in Fort Wayne; he lived and worked in Chicago. He got down that way about four times a year, for a limited number of hours surrounding a game.
But, that’s only if I stay in Chicago
, he mused, shaking his head at where his thoughts were taking him. Was he
honestly
thinking about moving, living in the Fort during the offseason? That was only about four months a year, less if you count conditioning camps or playoff runs.

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