Save My Soul (17 page)

Jordon nearly broke his neck leaping over the front row of seats behind home plate. “Ninety-seven. Sweet Jesus!” He spun around and climbed the two rows he jumped down. “Maggie, you're brilliant.”

He kissed her. On the lips. In front of a handful of staffers and a gaping Carlos. Then he jumped down again and headed onto the field.

According to their contract, Maggie's purse just got a little fatter. She had the money she needed for her own place and an independent life, but she didn't feel a twinge of happiness. Carlos pitching faster solved nothing. He was still confused and heartbroken, and Jordon and Maggie were still playing a dangerous game, acting as if they had a future together despite the fact that Maggie knew better. She dropped her heavy head into her hands and listened to Jordon praise another pitch.

She needed to untangle from Jordon's arms, but she didn't have enough energy for multiple battles. Carlos had to come first. She'd get him to a place where he understood the magnitude of the situation facing him, where he could make decisions based on solid planning rather than emotion — which was a difficult feat for anyone let alone an impressionable twenty-year-old — and then she'd worry about detaching from Jordon.

Another lightning pitch whizzed toward the crouching catcher. Carlos stumbled off the mound as the small group gathering near the dugout talked with animation. Everyone celebrated his progress, everyone but him. He kicked his cleat into the dirt at the base of the mound and wandered around the perimeter with slumped shoulders and no direction.

Maggie's heart ached. She imagined a world where being gay didn't matter and she saw a different Carlos, a smiling, joyful Carlos. But in a world like that, Carlos wouldn't have slumped in the first place, and Maggie would've never come to Carolina … to Jordon.

She slapped her cheeks and separated from the scene. This wasn't about her, except for how Dr. Maggie Collins was going to guide a talented athlete in the face of pretty insurmountable odds. On one hand, if she encouraged him to embrace his sexuality, she could be setting him up for failure on the field. On the other hand, if she encouraged him to choose baseball, he faced a lifetime of conflict, defending or hiding his true self. As usual, she didn't have the answers.

Mother Goddess, help me.
Maggie's phone rang before she could absorb the universe's reply.

“I'm getting married.”

At the sound of Crystal's voice and ludicrous announcement, Maggie's head roared with pain. “What do you mean you're getting married?”

“I mean exactly what I said. Isn't it amazing, Magpie?”

“To Paul and Katherine?” Maggie took the stadium steps two at a time as she climbed higher off the field.

“Why do you insist on making everything I say about Paul and Katherine? I'm honestly worried about your narrowing.”

“My narrowing?”

“Never mind. Magpie, it's Paul's father's farm, and you should see this place … ”

Maggie didn't want to see anything other than her mother's feet on the ground — in Utah. Entering into a polygamist marriage crossed a line Maggie didn't know she'd drawn. Crazy crap was common place with Crystal, but this … this threatened …

What, Maggie? What did this threaten? Why was this different than any other alternative ideal?

Maggie couldn't open enough to think straight. She kept bumping into images of traditional families. Thanksgiving dinners. Kids. Grandkids. Fathers. Mothers. The fairy tale she didn't realize she kept stashed in her heart crowded everything else in her brain. Maggie struggled to stuff it back where it belonged, back where it couldn't disappoint or cause pain ever again. How could she think about a normal life if her holiday table included her mother, her mother's husband, and her mother's husband's wife?

Once a flake, always a flake.

Maggie's head spun, and she tripped on the top step. “I've got to go,
Mom
.” It was a childish attempt at rebellion.

Crystal's breathing echoed. “What did you call me?”

Maggie opened her mouth to apologize, but then she balked at the ridiculous notion. She wasn't sorry. Crystal was her mom, whether she liked it or not. Maggie couldn't see a reason to hold back the truth. “I always wanted to call you mom.”

“Darling, it's a word. The symbolism isn't positive once you strip back the layers.”

Maggie pressed her knuckles to her forehead, hoping her hand might absorb some of the pain. “This isn't about what I call you. This is about you making selfish decisions that hurt the people around you.”

Crystal gasped. “I can't deal with your negativity right now. I called to share good news, and you're depressing me. What's happened to you?”

The tips of Jordon's black and gray running shoes appeared in Maggie's peripheral vision, and she hung up. No good bye. She ended the call because she couldn't answer her mother's question. Maggie didn't know what was happening to her.

“Your mother, I presume?”

“Yes.”

Jordon sat on the step beside Maggie. “That didn't sound like a happy conversation.”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his shoulder.

“Crystal is getting married. Although I'm not sure how that's even legal, since Paul is already married.” Maggie felt like crying, but she refused the relief. With a deep breath, she reminded herself that, like all emotion, the worry and sorrow would pass.

Jordon rubbed her arm. “We can't pick our parents, and we can't make their decisions. They're adults. They screw up on their own.”

He spoke the truth, so why was she opposed to the notion?

Pushing him away, Maggie stared into his clear eyes. The reflection of her frazzled face in the glossy pools of black startled her. So many wrinkles and contortions lined her face. And yet when she looked at him, he was smooth and serene. The role reversal didn't seem fair.

“Maybe that applies to your father, but not to my mother. She's different. She's weakened by a too-big heart and a naïve mind, and this chauvinist is taking terrible advantage of her.” Maggie dropped her face to her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. The hurtful words flying off her lips left her with a terrible taste in her mouth. Still, she couldn't seem to calm her fears.

“I think you're taking on too much responsibility where your family is concerned.” Jordon slipped a hand over the bend in her back.

“Maybe you're not taking on enough.” She spoke into her hands, hoping he didn't hear, but his hand dropped off her back, and she knew the words managed to leak out.

“What's that supposed to mean?” His black brows pulled together atop his flaring nose, and his teeth tore into the flesh of his bottom lip.

“Jordon, you should mend relations with your family. That sort of karmic implication is devastating.”

He didn't lighten, and when he spoke he sneered. “And you know this how? Because Buddha told you?”

He was patronizing her, and she deserved it. Her attack on his relationships amounted to nothing more than projection, a pitiful attempt to distract him from analyzing her feelings about Crystal. “It's what I believe.”

“Well, it's not what I believe.” He stood, towering over her as she stared at the empty field and listened to his heavy breathing.

Maybe she hoped to do more than distract him. Maybe her meddling meant to push him away. An angry Jordon was far less likely to love her. And if he didn't love her, she could go back to living life without the onslaught of heady emotions.

She rolled her head slowly until she saw his gloomy face. “Jordon, what
do
you believe?”

He shoved his hands in his jean pockets and stared off into the distance. “I don't know.”

“That's what I thought. If you don't know what you believe, how can you demean what I believe?”

Their eyes locked. “Just because I'm not sure what I believe doesn't mean I don't have some thoughts, and the idea that karma determines my outcome doesn't seem right.”

“Why not?”

“Maggie, look at it from my perspective. I was a good kid. I did what everyone expected me to do, and I still ended up with a dead mom and a loser dad who stole my money. On the other hand, I've been a pretty lousy man. I've lied, bullied, belittled, and taken advantage of weaker people, but the universe, your universe, keeps rewarding me. I have more money, more houses, more cars and now you. Explain how that's possible if karma exists?” He squatted next to her and grabbed her hand.

She blinked back tears. “Jordon, karma isn't instantaneous. What you're doing in this life impacts your next life, and on and on and on. Your money, your success, that's all a gift because somewhere along the line in past lives you were generous enough to earn them. The negative stuff works the same way. You caused it by your behavior in a past life, and your current negative behaviors are going to haunt you in future lives. That's karma. That's how it works.” She was breathless from the speed of her speech.

He stared right through her. “You don't know that any more than Carlos knows the Blessed Virgin awaits him in heaven. It's all mystical mumblings to make the guilty feel forgiven and the scared feel better about dying. What if there's nothing, Maggie? What if when you close your eyes there's no heaven, no second life, just darkness?”

She wilted, wrapping her arms around her stomach and leaning forward to drag in a miserable breath. She stared at the dirty concrete beneath her feet. Silent seconds passed with her trying to form a rebuttal. And then there it was, amid the filth on the ground, crystals shimmering in the filthy cement.

Drawing air deep into her belly, Maggie softened her muscles before looking at Jordon. “I could never believe in nothing.” She rubbed her hand over his pulsing cheek, stroking his smooth skin until his jaw relaxed. “I've seen both dark and light exist simultaneously. I don't believe a place can ever be void of either. Where there is dark, there is light. Even in your scenario, there is still light — somewhere. There has to be. The light is what people call heaven. No matter how dark, the question always is … where is the light?”

• • •

Jordon was staring at it. Bright and blinding. Maggie's eyes were wide with unshed tears and unconditional love. He wanted to drop to his knees and confess every sin he'd ever thought to commit — such an absurd reaction for a man like him. All these years, he confessed nothing. He acted, reacted and reaped the benefits. He also bore the scars.

He wasn't ready to call his father, but maybe Grey. Maybe he could contact the kid without the old man being involved.

“Jordon?”

He blinked to focus.

“Are you okay?”

Better than okay. Something was happening inside of him, and he couldn't think to call it anything other than a thaw. He pulled her into his arms, and he knew without a doubt … he loved her
.

Jordon held onto the words, preferring to save them for another time, a time when she would believe him. “I'm fine, and I'm sorry if anything I said upset you.”

With her head against his chest, her body relaxed. “I'm sorry, too. You're right. Crystal is an adult, and I should stop making decisions for her.”

“That's easier said than done,” Jordon said, tightening his grip.

Maggie nodded against him. “It's just that I've spent my whole life worrying about her. I bet I've spent every past life worrying about her too.”

All the talk about karma and death and multiple lives replayed in Jordon's head. Maybe Maggie was right. Maybe he needed to pay closer attention to his actions and how they would impact him and the people he loved long after he'd gone. “Maggie?”

She looked at him from her restful spot, snug in the crook of his arm.

“If we have more than one life, does that mean we've met before, and will we be together again?”

Something in her watery eyes told him yes, but then she buried her face in his chest. “I don't know.”

He dropped his nose to the top of her head and pressed his lips to her velvet hair, breathing in a scent so strong and familiar that sparks of light filled him. The ensuing peace was enough confirmation for him. “Well, that's what I believe. And you know what else I believe?”

She looked at him again. “What?”

“If we don't get to the grocery store soon, that turkey in the refrigerator will be mighty lonely on Thanksgiving Day.”

• • •

Maggie and Jordon shopped while Carlos worked with team trainers. Maggie pushed a cart mounded with what Jordon said was enough supplies to feed seven people Thanksgiving dinner. By her estimate, there was enough food to feed an entire baseball team.

“You're going to cook all this by yourself?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“No. You're going to help me.”

She looked over his right shoulder to a freezer case filled with headless turkeys like the one tormenting her in the refrigerator. “Maybe Bernie should help instead.”

Jordon laughed and tossed a pound of unsalted butter onto the heap. “If Bernie helps, you'll get gizzards in your stuffing.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Fine. Just don't ask me to touch the poor bird.”

“Hey, that bird has blissfully embarked on his next life by now.”

Jordon's adoption of her philosophies only deepened her worry that transference was the reason for his attraction to her.

The edges of his eyes crinkled as his lips curved into a smile. He was joyful, while she battled her beliefs and common sense. The transformation he'd undergone made it all the more difficult to tell him she couldn't risk getting closer to him. The sex had been a mistake. She couldn't keep leading him on and confusing herself.