The Light of Day (5 page)

So, the answer that I’d like to give isn’t the answer I do, because I long ago stopped lying to Mia, and to myself.  “I’m not sure, but I know that it’s time I try. You saved me, Mia, and gave me a place to feel safe.  Now, I need to learn to stand and find my own place, and you need to go and be married to that gorgeous man. I’m happy for you, cousin,” I tell her and see her smile.  “I didn’t understand how you could trust Ryan, or how you could trust that he’s always going to be there, that he loves you even when he’s not with you, but every time I see you guys together I know it’s true.  And I want that for you.”

She touches my arm briefly.  “What about for you? What do you want for yourself, Cora?”

Love.  It pops into my mind and almost rolls off my tongue before I catch myself.  The fact that Jake’s face comes with it is twice as terrifying.  Irritated, I swallow the thought back and smile.  “Well, I wouldn’t mind a handsome man with abs like the one you’ve snagged, but if I can’t have that, I guess I’ll stick with contentment.  I want to feel satisfied,” I tell her, and know it’s the truth.  It might not be the only thing I want, but it’s definitely one of them.  Knowing she’ll keep pushing if I don’t move this conversation elsewhere, I smile at her then turn to head back.

“Enough serious talk — you’re getting married today and we still have to devise a plan as to how you avoid your mother for most of it.  I think we use the Scientist; she’s just bitchy enough that Auntie Mags doesn’t know how to respond.  We’ll have Lily throw a tantrum about refusing a hairdo or something equally horrifying, and that should keep her occupied long enough for us to get you made up and dressed before she can offer advice and last minute additions.”

Mia laughs and we head away from the horizon and back down toward the city, but I don’t shake that feeling for a while, the one that says I want too much, and what I want could be the very thing I’m incapable of getting.

Chapter Nine

Jake

I’m sitting in a lounge chair on the side of Ryan’s pool at just after six a.m. on his wedding day when I hear the side gate open and close.  Since the groom slipped out of the house last night after everyone returned from dinner, I can only suspect that’s him whistling his idiot head off as he saunters around the corner.  One look and I grin, holding out my middle finger.

              “Maybe try not rubbing everyone’s face in it that you’re getting some on the regular these days.”

He grins back and plops down into the chair next to mine.  He’s shorter than me by a few inches, topping out at just over six feet.  He’s a fast little bastard though, lean with the agility of a leopard.  The way he steals bases makes me wonder if he’s part ninja sometimes.  Athletic doesn’t begin to describe him, and when we first became friends during our sophomore year, both getting our shot to play more than a few innings, I learned what dedication was from him.  Of course, knowing you had a girl like Mia probably helped with the focus.

Why focus on a party and females when the angel was already yours?

              Blue pops into my mind unbidden, along with her reaction to my proposition last night.  I hadn’t been planning on asking, had actually planned on leaving her alone, heeding the warning that Ryan had given me that morning. 
Cora’s been hurt, she’s been tossed aside, and she’s just getting back on her feet.  Now isn’t the time to mess with her
.

              I let him say it because she deserved to have someone looking out for her, and from what Ryan has told me, not a lot of people do.  I don’t begrudge him his protectiveness, I just don’t have the power to resist her either.  Since I not only respect Murph, but consider him one of my true friends, I’m going to have to talk to him about the plans I’ve been making.  Plans that include one blue-eyed siren.

“You already work out, Handsome Jake?”

              Murph motions to my sweat covered T-shirt and the medicine ball at my feet.  I’ve done my workout for the day, and I’m just about to start the throwing motion exercises I get to go through with a one pound medicine ball.  Admitting I’m scared won’t change the fact, so I just shrug and play it off.

A few months ago — just over four, to be exact — I had major reconstructive surgery of my UCL ligament — that important one that keeps your elbow where it’s supposed to be so you can do things like throw a baseball.  When they told me I had the commonly feared Tommy John injury, I thought I’d never throw again.  Even after they said they could fix it and give me back my pitching arm, I wondered if I’d ever
want
to throw again.  The first months after the surgery were all wrist modalities, lifting and extensions, teaching my arm how to move now that there was a foreign ligament replacing the one I’d overstretched and blown out.  Then, it was forearm weights and shoulder motions and wrist and elbow movements, until I could finally move the arm without pain or awkwardness.

Every exercise since has been a gradual increase in movement and weight and such, leading me to the moment I’m at now.  I’ve swung a golf club repeatedly in the last weeks to remind my body what it knows how to do, what motions it needs to bring back, etc., and in two weeks, if everything stays on track, I’ll begin a new throwing program.  It will be the first time I’ve thrown a ball since last July.  And still, I’m almost five months out of surgery and I feel less like an athlete now than I ever have before.

              Because I can see the curiosity in his eyes, because we both know I’m working out and doing everything the doctors say even though I refuse to acknowledge a possible future in baseball, I shrug.

              “Yeah, you know, took my little jog, did my lunges and core, worked hard to make sure my ass will look good in those pants your girl picked out.  Of course, she thinks I look good in everything, so it won’t be hard.”

              “Just give it five years when you’re in the majors and your running is minimal and the body you’re so proud of now becomes thick and flabby.  You might just lose your Handsome Jake superpowers.”

              Murph’s grin remains as he throws the banter at me, but I freeze.  I know what he’s doing, refusing to accept that I’m done, refusing to let me accept it.  His eyes are steady on mine but rather than amused, they’re set in a challenge.

Go ahead
, they say,
try to walk out on all of it
.  Fucking Murph.

This kid shits happiness because that’s what his life is, fucking happy.  His girl is perfect, his parents are actual parents, the ones who appear to feel pride and actually enjoy being with their kids, and his career… Christ, his career is just beginning.

              There’s no stopping the Murph, and for some goddamned reason he doesn’t believe in allowing anyone else to stop, either.

              Because it’s his day, and the fact is that I really do care about him, despite my deep seated envy of everything he’s got going, I try to stay calm as I shake my head.  “Let it go, man.  I’m doing the rehab, I’m following the orders, but you and I both know eleven months to a year off with an un-played college season makes me less and less desirable.”

              “Neither of us knows that, Jake, but what we both
do
know is that this shit happens and people recover.  You tore a major ligament, now you’ve replaced it and are rehabbing.  You’re following the orders of some of the best sports doctors there are.  The timing is shit, but your arm is going to heal, man, and when it does, you’re entering next year’s draft with me.”

              “To do what? Spend a half a decade or more in the minors working my ass off just to be told I’m not quite good enough?”

              Murph just shrugs his shoulders when I push off the chair to pace.  “That’s a chance all of us take.  With or without surgery you would have gone to Short A just like me and every other prospect that’s coming out of college.  There are still three levels we’ve got to move up before we really get looked at, possibly four.  So no, it’s not a fucking guarantee, but you knew that last year, just like you know it now.”

He stands with me, watching me as I pace, his voice like a whip.  “You’re scared, I get it, but don’t quit because it’s easier than admitting how much you care.  That’s bullshit and you know it.”

              The problem with someone like Ryan is they make you want to believe.  They’re the optimistic prick that sees the glass as half-full, the ones who know that if one dream doesn’t work out, another will come along because life’s just that good to them.  The rest of us know that getting to taste even a little bit of one dream is pretty fantastic, but to get two chances? No way.

              “I’m moving to Portland.  I asked Blue to think about taking me on as her roommate.”

              He stops, his eyes going wide, his breath heaving in and out.  For a full thirty seconds he stands there staring at me, neither of us talking.  “What?”

              I feel the calm wash over me and I stop my pacing to stand face to face with him, to look in his eyes.  I know his fists have clenched at his sides, just as I know that if he sees good reason to use them, he will.  Murph might be a happy guy, but he’s also a loyal one and if he thinks I’m a threat to someone he loves, especially if it involves his angel, he won’t be afraid to lay me out.

              “What did you say?” he repeats.

              I lift my brow and cross my arms over my chest, reveling in the pain free feeling of being able to do that.  “I think you heard me.  I’m transferring.  It’s almost second semester, Mia’s moving into the apartment with you.  You guys aren’t going to want a roommate hanging around during the few days that you might get to see each other.”

              “Jake, you know we wouldn’t kick you out.  You’re family.”

              Just that easy.  For Murph, family means something — whether they’re blood related or not.  As for the angel, Murph’s told me enough about her situation that I can understand that, for the two of them, they’re building their own family, one they can depend on.  It shocks me when I feel a tremor of regret that I’m walking away from it.

              “Yeah, man, you know I feel the same, but I can’t stay.  I can’t,” I tell him when he goes to open his mouth and argue.  “I’ve already called the doc at school and had him make arrangements for my treatment to be transferred.  There’s a trainer lined up in Portland that can finish my program.  I’ve already emailed my counselor and started the process of figuring out whether my scholarship will cover the four classes I have left online, especially if we claim medical necessity, or if I have to apply somewhere else and forfeit the rest of it.  I need to go,” I finally say, and I see his sails deflate.

              Murph will push when he thinks he can win, but he also knows when to step back, when to let the runner take their base instead of trying to make the play and throw them out.  He’s got a level head, and I know he can see that I’m not messing around.  I need to get out.  I might suffocate if I don’t.

              “What about what the doc said about team cohesion? Staying mentally tough by staying a part of it? How are you going to do that if you’re in another state?”

              It’s why I’m leaving.

              “Murph, I’m not playing this season, I’m not going to be traveling.  You and I both know that my time with the team is done.  It would be different if I was coming back, but this was my last season and it’s over.  I only have a few classes left to finish my major.  I’m doing everything else the doctors have said, but I have to do them somewhere else.”

              Somewhere it doesn’t hurt to fucking breathe.  Somewhere there isn’t a reminder around every corner of what I’m missing.  Somewhere that I can see Blue.

              “Why Cora?”

              I snap my eyes back to Murph’s and I can see the struggle in him.  “What do you mean?”

              “Come on, Jake, we’ve known each other for almost four years.  I haven’t seen you take more than a passing interest in a girl since you and Lise broke up end of sophomore year, and even then you weren’t brokenhearted when she left.  The carpet’s worn from the girls trekking to and from your room in the past year.  What makes you want to be close to Cora?”

             
I need her.

              The words are there again, without being prompted, and it scares the life out of me that I’m not sure I have control over my feelings or her.  Fuck if I’ll tell him that and try to explain what I barely understand.  Something about her makes me want to believe that there can be something out there, something that I’ve never thought of before, something that can make my life feel like mine again.  I don’t say any of this to Ryan though, partly because it scares the shit out of me and partly because it’s none of his business.  I respect that he cares for her, but he’s got his own girl and Cora’s an adult.

              When I stay silent, his brows lower and I can see the struggle in him.  “Shit, Jake, what are you thinking? She’s Mia’s cousin.  She’s not just some girl you can use to make yourself feel better.”

              “Don’t you think I know that?”

              “Do you?” he snaps back.  “Jesus, you’re a mess, and Cora just got herself back to a place that she can be safe.  I love you like a brother, dude, but if you mess with her I won’t be able to take it.  She doesn’t deserve that.”

              I’m momentarily sidetracked as I get hung up on that one word. 
Safe.
  What the hell happened to Blue that safety was a concern?

              “It’s not like that, Murph.”  When he narrows his eyes at me, I concede enough to run the hand of my good arm through my hair.  “I can’t explain it, but have you ever just seen someone and felt something for them, something that scares you and pisses you off and makes you want to walk in the other direction even when you know you can’t?”

              He nods.  I can tell he’s still wary, but I accept that.  “The minute I saw her I knew she was someone that I needed.  It might be selfish, it might be crazy, but I can’t stop thinking that she’s someone I need to know.  And even if I didn’t, I need to get out of here, and she’s packing up and leaving, starting over.  She said something about looking for a room when she got up there, or maybe finding a place and looking for a roommate.  Wouldn’t you rather it was me living with her than someone off the street?”

              He’s struggling with the urge to yell at me, and I know he sees my point about the stranger.  If whatever he’s saying about Cora is true, then she does need a roommate, not for the financial help, but because she needs someone to ground her, and she needs someone she can trust.  I might not be a saint, but I’m not going to hurt her.

              “Be careful with her,” he finally says on an expulsion of breath, and I feel the tightness in my chest ease.  “She’s tough, and she acts like she’s not afraid, but Cora needs someone who thinks of her first.  I need you to think of her first, Jake,” he says and I know he’s asking me as much as he’s telling me.  That he trusts me to do what he’s asking.