Page 16

Sixteen

Jade

Three years ago…

I got the call from my mom that my grandma had died in her sleep, and I hopped on a plane that day.

I knew that me returning home meant I would probably see Henry again. Home and Henry completed a puzzle—I could never have one without the other. As with the few other times I’d returned home, I was eager to feel his arms around me and lose myself in the distraction he was sure to give me.

The two times prior that I had returned home, I had run into Henry. Although he had gotten traded to Colorado a few years after he was drafted to Chicago, Chicago was his hometown. One thing inevitably led to another, and we ended up in bed together. It always made it harder to get on the plane the next morning, but nothing had changed with us. We were still on separate journeys, and our paths rarely crossed.

Reed had picked me up from the airport with an arguing Waylon and Owen in the back seat. He hugged me at the trunk after putting my luggage inside. “I’m sorry, Jade.”

Tears pricked my eyes, and no matter how hard I had tried to stop crying over the loss of my grandmother, I’d been walking around with red-rimmed eyes through both airports.

“Let’s get you home.” He walked me to the side of the car and opened the passenger door for me.

“I saved your ass,” Waylon argued.

“I made the winning goal,” Owen fired back.

“Hi, boys,” I said, but they ignored me.

“Your goal wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t stopped three of their goals in the second.”

Reed slid into the driver’s seat. “Boys, cut it out. Say hello to your sister.”

I always laughed at his dad voice. It was like as soon as the boys were born, so was that authoritative voice he used with them. I think I was easier to parent than the twins.

“Hey, Jade,” Waylon said.

“Took Grandma’s death to get you to come home, huh?” Owen said, and Reed gave him a stern look in the rearview mirror.

Owen always gave me shit when I came home for visits, but I could see that to him, I was his big sister who chose to live somewhere other than near him. So I never fought back.

For two days, I helped Mom with flower orders, helped her pick what my grandma was to wear, and dealt with the plans for the gathering after we buried her. It all made me not want to have a big thing when I died. Why should the people grieving for me have to deal with planning so much?

I dressed in a black dress that my grandma would have hated. My grandma was vibrant, quick-witted, and didn’t care what anyone thought. She probably would have preferred me wearing what I wanted.

My dad wasn’t coming into town from Los Angeles. No, he told me he had a big case and that my grandma didn’t like him anyway. But it hurt that he didn’t want to be there for me.

“I can’t wait to see you. Spend some time with you. How long will you be in the States?” he asked.

I’d just finished a job for a high-end hotel in Bora Bora and wasn’t sure where I was going next. A hotel brand had reached out to me to go around the US and take pictures of what they considered their more exclusive hotels, but the US still felt way too close to Chicago. Being off US soil somehow made it more bearable to be away from Henry.

“Only a little while. I have a job,” I lied because there wouldn’t be much reconnecting unless I wanted to sit in his office and refill his whiskey and cigarettes.

I loved my dad, I really did. It wasn’t his fault my mom moved back to Chicago when I was seven. But a little effort on his part wouldn’t have killed him.

I went downstairs in my childhood home, walking past the pictures of me growing up on the wall in the stairwell. I grew up in a house full of love. I knew I shouldn’t always be looking for my dad’s love, but somehow, that was always easier said than done.

Reed was in a chair, the newspaper propped up in his hands, reading glasses in place on his face.

“You do know that you can go digital with that now, right?” I asked.

He tipped one end of the newspaper over and peeked at me. “Your generation needs to learn that not everything newer is better.” Then he folded the corner back up and went back to reading.

I sat on the couch across from him, waiting for my mom, who was upstairs yelling at my brothers to get dressed.

“Reed!” she screamed.

He set the paper on the coffee table and rose from his chair. “I swear, those two.”

As he fled from the room, I looked down to see that he had been reading the sports section. And there it was, an article about Henry being traded back to Chicago.

No one had told me. How did I not know?

The paper crinkled when I grabbed it, desperate to read what had been developing in his life that I knew nothing about.

After graduation when I left for Holland, Henry started his career in Chicago. As hard as I’d tried not to look him up, I felt as though Henry’s dream had become mine over the years, and I wanted to make sure the pain I was living with was worth it. But Henry struggled, and the game announcers and the anchors on the sports channels said as much. There was some commentary about how maybe he didn’t have what it takes, and he was one of those guys who couldn’t perform at the professional level. My heart sank watching him struggle for two years. So, it wasn’t a surprise that he got traded to Colorado.

I wasn’t sure what Colorado had brought Henry. If it was a new coach, a new team, but he just excelled. The first year was still a little wobbly, but by his second year, the old Henry was dominating again, and the announcers were eating their words about their predictions that he didn’t have it.

I read the article before the distraction of my family came down the stairs. The assistant coach from Colorado had gotten a job in Chicago as the head coach, and he wanted Henry with him. The reporter stated in quotes from Coach Buford that Henry was the start of the dynasty he was building in Chicago. That without Henry as a building block, he wouldn’t be sure where to start.

Down a little further in the article, the reporter reached out to Henry, and he was quoted as saying, “Chicago’s my hometown. Why wouldn’t I want to go back and prove myself? That’s what I plan on doing, and I’m thankful the organization saw my value when others didn’t.”

Oh, Henry. He was never spiteful or mean. Just said how it was. Always able to keep his emotions in check. Maybe that was why I had fallen so hard for him. He tended to lose control of those calculated measures when he was with me.

The footsteps barreling down the stairs made me toss the newspaper on the table and stand as if I wasn’t reading it. We filed out to the car, and I put my suitcase in the trunk since I was leaving that night and staying at a hotel closer to the airport to catch an early flight.

I didn’t see him when we arrived at the church, and after mass, Henry still wasn’t there. I figured maybe he wasn’t coming because he was busy packing up boxes in Colorado to move back to Chicago.

As we all stood to watch my brothers, Reed, and three other men carry my grandma’s casket out of the church, a feeling washed over me, and I knew Henry was there. The tears I’d thought were done pierced my eyes because I could always rely on Henry to be there for me when I needed him, even if we didn’t speak anymore.

I escorted my mom to the aisle, following my grandma until they slid her casket into a hearse as everyone bowed their heads. We stood at the church’s entry and watched.

When it was done, I stepped farther out onto the sun-soaked concrete, and there was Henry. At the end of the stairs, dressed in a black suit, his hands in his pockets and his gaze solely on me. Relief washed through me at seeing his face, feeling his calming presence surround me. He still had that effect on me after all those years.

My mom walked down the steps, thanking everyone for coming, and I did my job of asking everyone to join us for lunch at a restaurant down the street.

When we reached the end of the crowd, Henry hugged my mom, whispering something I couldn’t hear. He’d known death at too young of an age to understand what losing a parent meant. My mom drew back, placed her hand on his cheek, and nodded.

Then it was my turn, and he wasn’t as gentle with me. Maybe he saw on my face that I was moments away from breaking down. No one knew or saw me the way Henry did. He tucked me into his body, his arms sheltering me from the pain that had been coming at me from all directions that past week.

“I should’ve been here sooner, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I hadn’t noticed that he’d moved us into a corner on the other side of the cement stairs of the church. No one was watching. I didn’t have to be strong or pretend to be there for my brothers or my mom. All the grief, all the regret for being away from Grandma in her final years on Earth crashed down.

He tightened his arms around me. “She loved you so much. Don’t do this to yourself.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, hating that he knew why I was so upset. He ran his hands down my back and patiently waited for me to stop crying and calm down. By the time my back stopped racking, and I inhaled a cleansing breath, I realized everyone was gone.

“I waved at Reed to go ahead, that we’d meet them there,” Henry said.

I hugged him again, my fingers running down his wet button-down shirt. Wet from my tears. I couldn’t help but notice that he was stronger, more muscular than he had been the last time I’d seen him. He’d been training harder was my guess. His jaw was more defined, and his boyish good looks had turned masculine and gorgeous. All I wanted was for him to make the pain go away.

He drove me to the restaurant, and we sheltered ourselves away from everyone as much as we could. If only Waylon and Owen would have left us alone, but they had a million questions for Henry. Reed and Henry talked at the bar, and I watched them exchange a hug, with Reed patting him on the back. I was sure he was telling Henry how proud he was of him. Henry’s life was finally piecing back together while I felt as though mine was crumbling.

Mom had told me two weeks ago that Henry was adopting a son, and I wanted to ask him about it, but I also wanted him to tell me himself. I wanted to be invited into his life, to hear about his decision, but since we’d broken up after college, we never really talked like we used to. Since he didn’t say anything, I took it as a sign our relationship wasn’t in a place where he trusted to let me in.

At the end of the day, I hugged my mom and my brothers goodbye. Reed was supposed to be driving me to the hotel, but Henry came over and took my suitcase from Reed’s hands.

“I’ll drive her,” Henry said. “I have to fly out tomorrow anyway.”

Reed nodded a thank you and hugged me before he slipped into his own car and drove away.

The car ride to the airport hotel was quiet, and after I checked in, Henry escorted me to my room. My body was buzzing with the expectation that he’d follow me inside, strip me bare, and make me forget it all. I held the door open for him, and he hesitated in the hallway, but eventually he stepped inside and pulled me into him. His lips were on mine before the door even clicked shut.

“God, Henry.” I panted as his lips were everywhere on me.

This was us. This was what I had been expecting when I saw him at the bottom of the stairs. To feel his skin on mine. To feel his calloused palms cup my breasts. To feel his scruff along my inner thighs. To feel safe, and wanted, and loved.

We pulled and tugged, undressing ourselves and each other, wanting the same thing, our connection that we both craved to feel again. As I had his pants unzipped and my hand was about to slide under his boxer briefs, he tore his lips from mine and stepped back.

I leaned forward, not understanding why he was stopping. “Henry?”

He stared at me, breathing hard, and the longer the seconds ticked by, the more the lust vanished from his eyes. “I can’t do this.” His expression was tortured as he zipped himself back into his pants, buckled his belt, and didn’t bother to button his shirt or tuck it in. Stepping forward, he kissed my cheek. “Goodbye, Jade.”

He rushed out of the room and out the door while the pain and embarrassment of his rejection hit me like a punch to the face.

And that was the last time I saw or talked to him.