One and Done (Two Outta Three #2) (10 page)

BOOK: One and Done (Two Outta Three #2)
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Chapter 13

 

 

It’s been four years, five months, and two days since I had last spoken to Rocky. The radio silence never got easier, but I knew it was necessary. After my stint in therapy—not to mention my near-death experience—I saw that more clearly than I ever had before. I couldn’t go back to past triggers. Not after the progress I’d made so far.

I flipped a burger patty in the air and reveled in the sizzling sound it made on the industrial sized grill. Tyler’s Tavern was in its infancy, but has been regarded as one of the most popular restaurants in Charleston. Looking back, I would never have imagined myself becoming a chef, let alone a business owner, but I guess life is a curious thing.

The sound of thudding footsteps came up beside me, followed by a blast of musk. Even before the heavy cologne hit my nostrils I knew it had to be my dad. Our relationship has had its share of bad times and well, really bad times, but somehow we made it past the turbulence and came out on top. It’s funny what family therapy, business school, and cooking lessons could do to a father/son relationship.

“What’s up, Pops?” I asked, keeping my attention on the scalding oil in front of me.

Dad cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. “Um, Sport?”

My heart constricted. Dad never called me ‘sport’ unless something important was going on, especially since I was the least athletic person imaginable. I stepped away from the grill, worried that whatever revelation was about to be bestowed on me would result in burned fingers. “Anything wrong?”

“I…uh…” Dad scratched at his forehead, which was crinkled deeply.

I sighed. “Just spill it. Rip it off like a Band-Aid and get it over with.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I spoke to your mother today.”

“Okay, maybe doing it quickly was a bad idea,” I joked, though judging by the seriousness on his face there was no humor in what he was about to tell me. I pulled at my neck anxiously and gulped. “What’s going on with her?”

“She’s…really sick, son.”

“Sick? What do you mean?” Images of hospital beds and tubes flashed through my head. I shook them off and frowned. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Let’s just say those cigarettes finally took a toll on her.” Dad’s face was devoid of any emotion, but in his eyes I detected a sliver of guilt.

I glanced back down at my burning burger and flipped it over. The sizzling pops did nothing to soothe my rising guilt. Regardless of what kind of a mother she was, I should have known all this. I should have attempted to reach out to her sooner. Feeling a need for comic relief, I snorted. “Funny, I’d always thought it’d be her liver that gave out.”

“Jesse,” Dad snapped. “This is not the time for jokes.”

“I know. I’m sorry…it’s just…” I couldn’t even finish my thoughts. Always having been one to run from emotions, I was literally at a loss for words.

Dad shifted his weight and eyed me hesitantly.

“What is it?” I asked glumly.

“Um, she wants to see you. You know, before…”

Before.

How could that one word carry such a heavy load?

I shook my head. “I can’t go back.”

“Jesse—”

“We both know this, Dad.” I shut my eyes and flung the spatula toward the sink. It landed with a clatter, startling some of my kitchen staff. “It’s okay everyone, just going through a life crisis right now.”

“Jesse,” Dad groaned. “Be adult about this.”

“Be adult about it?” I gaped. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past few years? Stagnating? I’ve pushed aside everything that was ever familiar to me to grow up. What else do I have to do?”

Before my dad could respond, I pushed past him and walked toward my little cube of an office. It was barely the size of the janitorial closet, but it was my own space and had quickly become my sanctuary. I sat down and snuck a peek at the infamous selfie of homecoming night. Despite cutting myself off from Rocky, I had to have one last souvenir of her. The corners were a bit torn at the edges and aged yellow from the years in a hot kitchen. Staring at the two kids in the photograph was almost surreal. That boy who stared back did not feel like me anymore, and the girl beside him…well, she’d always remain a farfetched dream.

Dad stalked up beside me, grabbing onto the back of my chair to wheel me around. “Jesse, stop ignoring this.”

“I’m not ignoring anything.”

Dad didn’t look pleased. “I think you should go. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life regretting—”

“Regretting what? Regretting that I didn’t go back to see a mother who verbally and mentally abused me for years? Regretting that I don’t go back to a town that even you said had nothing left for me?” My eyes skirted the sketch once more. “Believe me, I already have many things to regret. What’s one more to the list?”

Dad winced. “Don’t be like this, Jesse. I know you’re better than this. You’re a good person, and I’m sure somewhere deep inside of you, there’s a love for your mother, even if you want to deny it. She wants to see you again. Why can’t you just give her that?”

I pressed my lips together and began drumming my fingers against my desk.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally muttered.

“Jesse.”

“I’ll think about it,” I replied, brushing him off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

 

“Stupid song.”

I pressed another button on my dash.

“Even dumber song.”

I tried one more time.

“Dumbest crap ever! Ugh.”

I resigned to turning off the radio and drumming my fingers against the steering wheel instead. Even the made-up melodies in my head were better than the Top 40 crap circulating the airwaves. I’d just have to sit in silence to save my sanity.

Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds before I found myself back in Bethel Falls. Praying I’d somehow get stuck in traffic, I slowed down my pace and set my car to cruise control. It’s funny to think how only a few years ago I was basically dragged out of town, kicking and screaming all the while. Now here I was, stalling so I wouldn’t need to go back.

Well, I didn’t hit traffic. In fact, it was as if the traffic gods looked down and pointed menacing fingers on me, laughing me all the way back home. I actually arrived at my mom’s house—my old house—in record time. I pulled to a stop and sat still, staring at the old house dumbfounded. I didn’t know what I expected, but it looked…the same.

“Figures she wouldn’t have done anything different to the crapshoot,” I murmured.

BAM.

The front door burst open, startling me. From behind the snow covered bushes, I could make out a small, frail woman standing at the door. There was an odd lump beside her that stood as tall as her waist. From where I sat I couldn’t quite make it out, and I couldn’t help but fear that she had gone and made another kid while I was gone.

Ridiculous…I think.

“Shit,” I whispered, staring at this stranger, whose eyes bore into mine even from twenty feet away. I wanted to run so badly, but I knew I couldn’t. Well, here you are, Jesse. You can’t sit out here forever. Time to get moving.

But I so didn’t want to.

One foot after the other, I dragged myself up the cracked pathway toward the front door. Lifting my head slightly, I bit back a gasp when I realized the lump by her side wasn’t a little brother or sister but rather a huge tank of oxygen. Painted a dark colored green, it was a wonder I thought the metal tank could be a person. Wishful thinking, I guess.

Mom’s cracked lips broke out into a weary smile as she lifted a frail hand to wave. It shook slightly out of fear? Excitement? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that this…this person was not the same woman I recalled. She was a figment of that memory. She was only a ghost.

I reached the bottom step and shrugged my shoulders uncomfortably. Not knowing what to say, I bit out the one word that came to mind, “Mom?”

“Your dad said you’d be coming. Surprised you didn’t at least call me first.” Her words didn’t hold the same bite they used to. Her raspy voice prevented it from sounding like any more than a hoarse complaint.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

The winter cold traveled underneath my beanie, feeling as if somebody had dumped an ice bucket over me. Mom frowned as I shivered and finally scuttled out of the way. “Guess you should go inside?”

You think?

I nodded and squeezed past her, careful not to knock her over. Once I stepped inside, the familiar smells caused my stomach to churn. Talk about a blast from the past. I was immediately transported back to a time long ago, and good God, how I couldn’t wait to hop in a time machine and be done with everything again.

Glancing over my shoulder, I frowned as she dragged the tuba sized tank behind her. “You know I’m getting you a nurse, right?”

“Figured you wouldn’t want to stay,” she shot back.

 

***

 

The rest of the afternoon was strained and awkward. Trying our best to avoid one another, I went about my sonly duties and fixed my mother’s meals, cleaned up the house, and even paid some bills with her surprisingly padded account. Apparently in the five years I was gone she too had reinvented herself and even held a few jobs. Good on her.

While I was bent over the kitchen sink, arms halfway submerged in grease and bubbly water, she scuffled toward me and tugged at my sleeve. “Jesse, I’m sorry…”

I froze. Was this finally the moment? Would she finally apologize for years’ worth of horrible parenting and emotional strain?

I swallowed. “For what?”

“But can you pick up my prescription at the drugstore? I would but…” She burst into coughs, which I couldn’t help but think she had forced out.

Dropping a bowl into the bubbly pool of water, I wiped my hands, feeling dumber than ever. Apologies should never be expected. Especially from someone who never thought she was wrong.

“Fine.” I turned and grabbed my keys, suddenly feeling suffocated. “I’ll see you later.”

The drive to the drugstore was nothing short of surreal. The familiar sights and sounds made me feel as if I had never left; a feeling that just didn’t sit right with me.

Just a ten minute drive away, I pulled into the lot and rolled into the furthest space imaginable, once again feeling a need to stall. The ominous pastel yellow building stared back at me, teasing me with bad memories. For years I’d practically lived in the tiny supermarket, a place where the Tylers were infamous for being fuck ups. How could we not be? It was the only place in town that served liquor.

“Ah, Johnson’s Groceries, we meet again. What bullshit will you feed me today?” I yanked my keys from the ignition and jumped onto the cold street. Shielding my eyes from the winter glare, I shook my head in disgust. “How did I get back here?”

Dragging my feet across the icy asphalt, I was somehow transported back to being that thirteen-year-old kid who used to swipe beer bottles for his mother. Sure, I was caught a few times, but by the fourth attempt I think the manager felt sorry for me and just let me go. In another blink of an eye, I was suddenly a dumb fifteen-year-old. This kid grew some balls and would actually steal cigarettes right from under the cashiers’ noses. Looking back, I knew no one could have been that stupid, but somehow everyone turned a blind eye on me.

Maybe that’s why I became so messed up.

I reached the front of the store and paused before stepping inside. A ball of nervous energy encompassed me, and for a moment I realized I was no longer that ballsy kid—I was nothing short of a coward.

What would happen once I stepped through those double glass doors? Who would I see? Stephanie? Dwight? Rocky?

Shit. Rocky…

Out of all the people in Bethel Falls, she was the one person I both craved to see and wanted to run away from. Sure, I toyed around with thoughts of reaching out to her now that we were grown, but how? Do I pick up the phone and call her as if nothing had happened between us? Would I pretend that I didn’t ignore her for the past four years?

“It just needs to be the perfect time.” Whenever the hell that was. Perhaps it was tomorrow, or the next day or three weeks from now when my stuff was already packed in the back of my trunk.

“Next?”

I blinked in surprise and shuffled forward, prescription in hand. Somehow I had made it inside to the pharmacy, with no recollection of how I got there. The stark white counter loomed in front of me, looking out of place among the country themed store. Without saying a word I thrust the slip of paper forward. The pharmacy technician, not anyone I recognized, seemed to appreciate the silence and quickly got to work.

“Jesse Tyler?”

I froze. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Even as an adult it struck fear in me, rendering my limbs catatonic. Gulping, I turned around and eyed the man who seemed so much shorter than I remembered, but still as frightening. Grey hair sprinkled his thick sideburns and even thicker eyebrows, giving him a James Bond villain sort of vibe. He was definitely still intimidating.

“Hello, Mr. Rossi.”

His lip trembled slightly as he gave me a suspicious once-over. “Are you…um…back in town?”

No, the person standing in front of you is just a hologram.

My eyes locked with his, and all of a sudden the memories of that night flooded into my mind. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to scream and tell him he was one of the reasons why my relationship with Rocky became strained. But I didn’t. I was now better than that.

I shook my head. “Temporarily. My mom’s sick.”

I expected shock and maybe even intrigue or complacency. What I didn’t expect was the look of concern that fleeted over his face.

He coughed uncomfortably. “Um, yes, I heard. I’m very sorry. She…she’s made something of herself these past few years, but I’m sure you knew that. It’s a shame this is happening to her.”

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t as if Mr. Rossi and I had a history of heart to hearts. I turned back toward the counter where my medicine was waiting and practically shoved my money at the poor pharm tech, desperate to leave the store.

“Jesse?”

I paused and looked over my shoulder, lifting my eyebrow slightly.

Mr. Rossi scratched at his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Looking as if he was fighting an internal battle and losing, he ground out, “How long are you staying? Do you need a job?”

I wanted to scoff. Tell him that the boy that wasn’t good enough for his daughter was now a new business owner. However, the sincerity in his tone and the conviction in his eyes prevented me from saying one bad thing. Curious, I tilted my head to the side and asked, “A job? With you?”

He cleared his throat. “Um, yes, if you’re staying for a few months why don’t you work for us? I’m…I’m sure Rocky would like to see you.”

Rocky.

There are moments in your life when you’re faced with a simple decision. Ironically, this simple decision could either make you or break you and change the course of your life as you knew it. Despite the fact that the familiar flags of caution were ruffling in the breeze while the “grown-up Jesse” screamed for me to walk away, the version of me I had long since buried somehow burst out of its grave like a zombie looking for nourishment. Needless to say, I didn’t have any brains at the moment. “Um, yeah, that sounds great, actually.”

Abort! Abort! What the fuck are you doing?

Mr. Rossi’s dark eyes brightened. “Perfect. Why don’t you start after Christmas? Maybe the day after?”

Was it really Christmastime? How’d I lose track of that?

“Uh, yeah sure. Thanks.” What the hell did I just agree to?

“Good. See you then.”

I nodded once and had turned toward the door when Mr. Rossi’s deep voice called out again.

“Jesse?”

I turned. “Yes, sir?”

“Rocky’s had an amazing life so far. She’s good.”

“She always was,” I agreed.

He nodded. “And I’d like to keep her that way. Don’t drag her down again. Don’t make me regret hiring you, capisce?”

“Yeah.”

BOOK: One and Done (Two Outta Three #2)
2.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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