Lex and Lu (2 page)

“We all cope in different ways.”

“I couldn’t help it. I watched. And you’d never know. He scored and there he was, ‘swag’ and all.” She put her hand quotes around the word
swag.

“He wouldn’t be Lex without the swag,” Amber replied knowingly.

“Cocky son of a bitch.”

Amber couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Always has been.”

Returning to her wine, she braved the next subject: “How are you?”

Jo stared into her glass. “To be honest, I haven’t had much time to process that he’s gone. I mean this morning we bickered about when we would go see Lex again. Then he leaves here in a bit of a fit for his ride. As soon as I park at the hospital for surgery this morning, I’m ushered into the chief of surgery’s office. They tell me what happened, but all I hear is blah, blah, blah. I want to know who was on in the ER when he came in, but it didn’t matter. He was dead at the scene, so my walk—more like huff—down there was futile. And then it’s identify the body, notify the boys, his brothers, you guys. It’s all sort of happening to someone else.” At her pause there was a hesitant knock on the door.

The other four women walked in, each with a bottle, looking as if they were the ones who had lost their husband.

Jo glanced at Amber, picked up her wine, and led the way out to the patio. Everyone followed somberly, as if they were on their way to the gallows. Quickly, Jo’s protective wall reasserted itself and she looked around at the women who had been her pillars for fifteen years. No one said anything for some time as they got glasses and poured their drinks.

Amber raised her glass when everyone else’s was full and said, “To Mike!” Robotically, they all clinked glasses, each secretly thankful that this toast wasn’t to one of their husbands. “To Mike!” echoed off the walls of the empty house and surrounded them.

“Fuck,” Stacey said as she set down her glass. “What happened, Jo?”

Amber shot daggers at her and opened her mouth to tell her to stop being so insensitive, but Jo’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Might as well say it once so we don’t have to rehash it later.” She paused—to catch her breath, really. Telling the boys earlier that day had been the most difficult thing she had ever done. Somehow she knew this wouldn’t be as bad. “He was on his morning ride. And, to tell you the truth, they’re not sure what happened specifically. But he died of TBI—sorry, traumatic brain injury. He was dead on impact.” She didn’t offer more details and no one asked.

An unnatural silence followed. There typically weren’t any quiet periods among the group. Jo watched with a sick fascination as all of her friends, with the exception of Amber, avoided her eyes. She imagined she would see reflections of pity, sympathy, and relief in all of them. She knew her gaze would probably mirror that if she were on the other side. They drank in silence.

The appearance of Willa broke the quiet, which was par for the course with her. Jo sat watching as Willa walked over to her, crouched down in front of her chair, and pulled her into an embrace. “I’m so sorry, Dr. J.,” she murmured. “I will always miss him.”

Jo grabbed ahold of Willa and hugged her fiercely. “Thank you,” she said.

Willa pulled away and stood. “Anyone need a refill?” she offered. Knowing that none of the ladies would turn down more wine, Willa moved toward the sliding glass doors, turned slightly and said, “Mom, what’s a good chaser?”

Amber looked curiously at her oldest daughter. Meeting Willa’s gaze, she stood and walked toward her. “I’m not sure what we’ve got. Let’s check it out.”

Even in her exhausted state, Jo knew Willa needed to talk to her mom. She’d seen that move countless times over the years, although when the kids were younger the excuses had been different. There was the nail polish that they couldn’t find or the brush that had too much hair stuck in it. In her house, Jo had heard about the cleat that was missing or the toilet that hadn’t been flushed. Excuses all, to get their mother or father alone to ask for a sleepover, or to borrow the car, or for money.

Conversation had picked up around her, but she wasn’t in it. Her mind had moved on to the things she needed to take care of over the next few days. When Amber and Willa reappeared with wine, Jo started to decline. Willa poured her a glass anyway. “You’ll need this,” Willa explained.

“What can we help with?” Cami inquired.

“I am sure there will be things, but at the moment, I don’t know specifically,” Jo answered, still absorbed with making her internal list. Distracted, she missed the byplay going on around her, so she was surprised when Stacy, Cami, LeeAnn, and Natalie began to make excuses to head out.

“I’ll get with you when she’s had a chance to make the arrangements,” interceded Amber.

Standing, Jo embraced them all—Stacy, Cami, LeeAnn, and Natalie. More alert now, she said good-bye to her friends. Over the years, they had been there for all of the growing pains that families experience. And normally, you didn’t go through anything that one of the other women had not already been through. You could always rely on someone’s willingness to discuss her own struggles. It had become another family unit that wrapped around each of their own and made the struggles easier to bear. They knew each other pretty well. Which is why Jo didn’t hesitate to sit down at the table, pick up her wine, and pin Willa with the death stare that she was famous for.

“What the hell’s going on, Willa?”

Willa looked to her mother. Somehow, she felt Amber could deliver the news more effectively.

“Willa just got a text from Lu.” Amber paused, gently picked up her wine, and took another fortifying sip. “She’s on her way home.”

Jo leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She wasn’t surprised, not really. Maybe it was time. In her mind she saw her family fracturing even more but there was little she could do about a decision that had been made earlier. Partly horrified, partly relieved, she looked at Amber and Willa.

“Is she coming alone?” Jo asked, fearful of the answer.

“Yes,” Willa replied.

“Thank fucking God!” she murmured. Maybe she wasn’t ready to set things straight.

Exhausted after a hard game and a sleepless night, Lex rolled over and shut off the alarm clock on his iPod before the blast of music coming from it shattered the early morning quiet. Eighteen hours of knowing that his dad was dead hadn’t lessened his sense of disbelief. His father had died while he in the midst of his pregame warm-up. His manager had handed him the phone as he walked off the pitch so that his mother could tell him before his game. Normally they would have waited, but with information flying all over the globe at warp speed, they were afraid that a reporter would ask him about it in postgame interviews. And the last thing they wanted was for Lex to be blindsided by that kind of news.

He wasn’t sure whose idea it had been. But knowing his mother as he did, he was pretty sure she had forced his agent to have his club make the arrangements since Lex never checked his phone once he entered the stadium. He also knew his mother figured he’d play in his game. She’d spent the majority of Lex’s life making sure he could play soccer, so his walking onto the field a couple of hours after learning that his father had died wouldn’t have shocked her.

Playing in a critical game was exactly the kind of therapy he needed. Sex would have been good too, but he’d been avoiding that for a bit. No messy entanglements allowed this season. And that would have made his father proud. Lex managed a fleeting smile, thinking of the last conversation he’d had with his dad about that subject. They’d been out at a pub down the street from his club’s stadium when his father mentioned Lex’s lack of a groupie—as he referred to all of the women Lex had been with since he was 18.

“Bit of a dry spell?” he’d said, winking at Lex.

Lex graciously acknowledged the dig. “No sir. Just trying to focus in on playing soccer.”

His dad grinned. “Yes, I’ve been wondering when you were going to get serious about the sport.”

He laughed. One of the things he loved about his dad was his ability to look at things from Lex’s perspective. “Ya know how it is, Pops. Even when things are supposed to be uncomplicated with women, they don’t ever stay that way.”

“If you’d stop binging on groupies, maybe things wouldn’t get complicated.”

“No, Pops. That’s what keeps it from getting complicated,” he replied with a wink.

“Seriously, Lex,” he said, suddenly changing the mood, “any plans to find a nice girl and settle down?”

Lex eyed his father. “How 1950s of you. Where’s this coming from?”

“I look around you and I know you are successful. You’re driven and ambitious. But don’t you feel like something is missing? Don’t you want to share this with someone?”

“That’s what I have you, Mom, and Pete for,” he answered. “Ready for another?” He pointed at his dad’s empty glass and waved to the bartender, hoping to change the subject.

“Lex, I’m serious. I don’t want you to be alone. I have seen your capacity to love someone—outside of your family.”

Suddenly, completely uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Lex ordered another round of drinks. Turning back to his father, he said, “I was a kid and didn’t know any better.” And with that, he left his father sitting at the bar while he went off to flirt with a groupie.

Thinking back on that conversation, the irony was not lost on Lex. He hadn’t been home in almost eight years. When he’d left he’d been caught up in the middle of an emotional nightmare. And now the prodigal son was returning home in the midst of another emotional nightmare. What the fuck? Glancing at the clock, he realized he needed to get moving to make his flight. When his phone rang, he knew without looking that it was his brother.

“What up?” he said without preamble.

“Are you packed? Or does your agent take care of that too after wiping your ass?”

Lex laughed. Leave it to Pete to lighten the mood. “I am trying to get out of bed. Was just thinking about a conversation I had with Dad last time he was here.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve had a few of those moments today.”

“What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I decided to come home right after I heard. I could have broken up the drive, but when I thought about Mom being here alone, I just felt like I needed to come.”

“Good man. I take it you got my itinerary?”

“Yes sir, Lex. We will send a car to pick up his majesty.”

“You’re such a dickhead,” Lex said, laughing.

“Seriously, I got all of the information. Shouldn’t you get your ass out of bed and in the shower?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m moving.” Lex paused before asking, “How’s she doing?”

“Really, you need to ask? She’s fucking amazing. Was sitting up with Dr. A. and Willa when I got home. Pretty much everything has been arranged.”

“Shit, I haven’t thought about Willa Knight in a long time. How was that for you?”

“Ha. All good. Aside from providing a wake-up call, I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“About what?” Lex heard the intake of breath on the line, and from across the Atlantic he could tell that what his brother was about to say was going to bother him.

“Lu’s coming home. She’ll be here by the time you land tomorrow. With everything going on and, ya know, proximity, I don’t think you’ll be able to avoid her.”

“Who says I want to avoid her?”

Pete sputtered. “I just assumed.… I mean, you haven’t been home since you left. I thought that was why.”

“Nah. I’m done avoiding Louisa May. We’ll have a conversation, clear the air, and then everyone will be able to relax. Don’t worry, Pete. I’m not looking to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

“Roger that. All right, I’ll see you at the airport. Be safe.”

“Over and out, bro.”

Lex gently placed his phone on the bedside table and fell back on his pillow. Twenty-four hours earlier his life had been proceeding according to plan. Now, he was faced with the death of his father and the prospect of going toe-to-toe with the girl who had broken his heart.

Lu grabbed her coffee mug and sneaked out the back door, across the worn path, and to the Pellitteris’ sprawling back deck. She knew that Dr. J. would be sitting in her chair, book in hand, drinking her coffee. When they were younger, any sneaking in and out had to be handled before 6:00 a.m. because Dr. J. would be up, in the same position even then. Wrapped up in a gigantic UPenn fleece, she shuffled up the stairs, across the deck, taking in the powerhouse that was Josephine Pellitteri. Although this time there was no book perched in her lap, taking up all of her concentration. She was gazing out into the early morning light, obviously lost in thought.

“Hey, Dr. J.,” Lu ventured.

Jo looked up and the weary smile she’d sported over the last twenty-four hours appeared on her tired face. She started to rise, but Lu beat her to it and stooped down to hug her. Lu tried to hold back, but once in Dr. J.’s arms, her composure crumbled. Attempting to stop the tears, Lu heaved a sigh that ended with a dry sob. Jo, also trying to hold her emotions in check, managed to caress Lu’s back, comforting her as she had when Lu was a child.