The Road to L.A. (23 page)

Travis’ face clouded over, and he sighed with obvious frustration.

              “Why is it that when it comes to Jake, you’re always willing to drop everything?” he asked.  “The guy hasn’t even bothered to contact you in months.  Why are you so damn worried about him?”

Carly couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  She had expected a sympathetic response instead.

              “His father just died!” she reiterated aloud.  “And no matter what, he’s still my friend!”

Travis furiously crossed his arms and the words spewed forth in a clear, menacing tone. 

“If you go, Carly, don’t bother coming back.” 

She felt the deep, emotional hurt at his biting words, and she fought back budding tears. 

“I can’t believe you’re being so cold about all of this.”

He said nothing in response, so she left.  He didn't even try to stop her.  She stormed out of the building.  When she got to her car, hot tears began to flow down her cheeks.  Slowly, she managed to pull out of the parking lot. She wiped at her tears as they blurred her vision. Before she could pull into her parent’s driveway, she saw Amanda’s car already parked alongside the curb.  She checked herself in the rearview mirror to make sure her eyes weren’t red and puffy anymore, and then she walked quickly up the walkway and entered the house.  The first thing she saw were her parents and Amanda sitting in the living room. They were trying to preoccupy themselves with a movie, but she could tell it wasn’t working.  A somber mood clung about the house. 

              “Has anyone heard from Jake yet?”

From the looks on their faces, Carly was able to surmise the answer to her question.

              “Mrs. Harmon said she doesn’t know where he could be,” Lydia answered. 

              “I think I know where he might be,” Carly said.

Amanda turned to look at her and, judging from the expression on the twin’s face, indicated she knew exactly what Carly was thinking. 

Shortly thereafter, they left the house and headed up Winchester Road on foot.

              “Man, we haven’t been up this way in a long time,” Amanda marveled as they turned onto Lemmonwood Street.

              “Yeah,” Carly replied.  A strong sense of nostalgia swept through her as they trekked down that familiar path they had taken so many times as kids.  Carly could see herself as a little girl running down the street with a catcher’s mitt in her right hand and a dirty old baseball in her left.  She saw her dark pigtails trailing out behind her as her little feet carried her along, the enthusiasm lighting her little heart-shaped face.  She could see Jake as a child, waiting for her several feet ahead with a baseball bat in his hand and a worn-out Rangers cap on his head.  He was beckoning her to hurry, so she ran faster to catch up with him.  She then saw his gaze shift past her, and she turned to see the twins approaching. Amanda was beaming with eager anticipation, and Aaron was trudging along with a frown on his face.  The female twin's disheveled ponytail bobbed from side to side as she raced ahead of her brother.  Carly couldn’t help but smile to herself as the images of their childhood played themselves out in her mind.  Before she knew it, she and Amanda were standing in front of the old baseball field.  It still looked as it had always looked in the past, except for one notable difference.  It looked a lot smaller now.  They moved across the field, looking all around for any sign of their friend.  Even though she took the time to thoroughly scan the wooden bleachers flanking the field, Carly instinctively knew they would not find him there.  Her intuition forced her to keep walking.  They descended three short steps and stopped just short of the entrance to the dugout.  There sat Jake, his head leaning against the concrete wall with his eyes closed. They waited a few seconds before calling out his name.  He slowly opened his eyes and turned to face the both of them.

              “Jake,” Carly said, biting on her lower lip. 

              “Hey,” he said in a mellow tone. 

Gingerly, Amanda and Carly moved to sit on either side of him on the bench. Without so much as a single word being uttered between the three of them, Carly and Amanda moved to capture Jake in a long, warm embrace that seemed to last forever.

*                                          *                                          *                                          *

The funeral was held that Sunday.  Roy and Aaron had both flown in on Saturday night to attend.  Jake had delivered a brief eulogy, for he had been unable to finish as he started to choke on his words.  An unusually large number of people had filled the church that morning and then gathered at the Clanton Memorial Cemetery afterwards.  A cornucopia of flowers surrounded the large gravesite, and a large procession of people dressed in black attire formed a circle around the grave.  Mrs. Harmon threw a red rose on the coffin as it was slowly lowered into the ground.  Jake stood next to his mother, who at one point lost her composure and ended up weeping on her son’s shoulder.  He comforted her by putting his arm around her and whispering something into her ear.  Carly watched him from where she stood.  She could tell he was trying to remain strong for his mother, but she could still see the hurt in his eyes, and it absolutely killed her.  Tears filled her eyes.  Lydia reached into her purse to produce several napkins, which she gave to Carly to dab at her eyes.  Just then, Carly heard a vehicle approaching.  She turned to look and saw a white van pulling into the cemetery parking lot.  Several individuals in plain clothes got out of the van and stepped to the rear, where it looked like they were retrieving equipment from the back of the van.  She squinted her eyes to try to get a better look at what they were carrying.  She let out a horrified gasp as she figured out the purpose of their unexpected presence.  She turned to her mother and whispered, “There are some photographers here.”

Lydia turned to look and let out an equally horrified gasp.  There were about four of them, and they all maintained a safe distance.  Once the funeral party had begun to file into the parking lot, the four photographers took an alert stance and their eyes scanned the sea of mourners.  They didn’t seem to care about the other funeral attendees.  But once Jake was within plain sight of their camera lenses, they began snapping away.  One of the photographers became bold and got as close to Jake as possible. 

              “How do you feel about the death of your father, Jake?” a young, lanky photographer asked while the bulb of the flash blinked in front of Jake’s face.  He snapped several more shots of the rock star.  Jake looked up just then. A cloud of rage was slowly transforming his previously subdued demeanor.  Before the photographer could brace himself, Jake lashed out and flattened the young man to the ground with a single punch to the face.  Roy quickly appeared next to Jake and pulled him along in an effort to abate any further violence.  Juan stormed over to the photographer, who was in the process of stumbling to his feet while also checking the camera to ensure the device had not been damaged by the fall.  Juan hissed in an angry voice, “Get out of here before I call the cops.”

              “Hey, it’s a free country,” the man replied.  He then revised his stance when he saw the fiery inferno building in Juan’s dark eyes.  “Fine, we’ll leave.”

Carly, Amanda, and Aaron watched as the uninvited intruders gathered their equipment and retreated to their van. 

              “Damn paparazzi,” Aaron spat, shaking his head.

              “Well, let’s hope they don’t follow us to Jake’s house,” Carly said, walking alongside the twins. 

              “If they do,” Amanda began, “I’m sure your dad will do a lot more than just give them a warning.”

They continued their walk to the parking area.  Lines of cars were already proceeding to depart the cemetery in order to converge upon the Harmon house.

                *                                          *                                          *                                          *

The Harmon's two-story, colonial-style home was packed wall-to-wall with darkly clad guests extending their deepest condolences to an unresponsive Mrs. Harmon seated at the kitchen table.  Carly stared at the blonde woman, who had always appeared so vibrant.  She looked dull, and her frailty seemed even more noticeable now.  There was a blank expression in her light blue eyes, and she barely responded to the activity surrounding her.  Carly looked around the living room to see if she could spot Jake.  Instead, she caught a glimpse of her father standing guard at the buffet table.  Juan motioned for her to join him.  She walked to the table, which was laden with sundry casseroles, breads, fruits, finger sandwiches, and a cornucopia of fruit pies.  Juan had just popped a cracker into his mouth when Carly approached, and he mumbled through a mouthful of food about how delicious the pies looked.

              “Dad, you’re being rude,” she scolded him. 

He shrugged sheepishly and swallowed.  His expression then turned serious.

              “You okay, honey?” he asked, scanning her face.  He patted her on the head.  Carly looked up at him and tried to smile.  She only nodded.

              “I’m worried about Jake.” 

Juan nodded to indicate he understood and said knowingly, “Of course you are, Carlita.  We’re all praying for Jake and his mother to make it through this tough time.” 

She sighed and decided she needed fresh air.  Excusing herself, she walked through the French doors that led out into the garden. Breathing in deeply, she suddenly noticed movement out of the corner of her eye.  She turned and saw Jake sitting on a lawn chair.  His black suit was somewhat disheveled, as was his hair.  His suit jacket was unbuttoned, and Carly could tell he had untucked his white dress shirt.  He looked up at her then.  She immediately noticed the hurt expression in his eyes.  She smiled at him, yet he didn’t even move a muscle on his face to reciprocate the friendly gesture.  She stood there for a while, rooted to the ground as she considered what her next move would be.  She wanted to comfort him, yet she didn’t know if he would accept her sympathy.  She moved toward him and sat down in the lawn chair next to his.  They remained encased in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed hours.  She wondered if she shouldn’t have opted for the decision to leave him alone instead.  She started to slide forward in the chair in an effort to heave herself up, but Jake finally broke the silence.

              “I never should have left.”

Carly became still and wondered what he meant by that.  She waited for him to expound, which he did.

              “I should've been there for him instead of doing this stupid, fucking tour.  I should've come home when my mom called and told me he wasn't doing well.”

Carly turned to look at him.  Her heart suddenly felt heavy as the realization of what he was talking about dawned on her.  She bit at her lip and thought of what best to say to a person who blamed himself.  She said, “Don't do that to yourself, Jake.  No one could've predicted this would happen.”

              “Yeah,” he responded with a tone riddled with melancholy.  “But I just wonder if me leaving had something to do with his..."  He didn't finish. 

She responded, “This isn't about you, Jake.  His health was already bad.  You pursuing your dream has nothing to do with your father's health.  So stop blaming yourself." 

              “Do you know what the one thing was that I always wanted my father to say to me?” he said, staring straight ahead. 

Carly could hear his voice start to waver a little.  He continued. “I just wanted to hear him say that he was proud of me, and that he loved me." 

He paused.

              "All I ever got was criticism.  That I wasn't good enough." 

Carly had to bite her lower lip to keep her emotions at bay.

              “I always figured that if I went to L.A. and really made something of myself, then maybe he would've finally been proud of me.  And now that's never going to happen...I'll never hear that from him."   

He looked at her then.  “That’s all I ever wanted from him.  To let me know he loved me, that I was good enough." 

Carly jumped up and crouched down in front of him, placing her hands on his knees.  She looked up at him and said in a gentle, soothing voice, “Your father was proud of you, and he loved you so much, Jake.  I know he did, I saw it in him.  That’s why he pushed you so hard, because he only ever wanted the best for you.” 

              “I just wish more than anything we could’ve fixed all this messed-up shit between us,” he said through gritted teeth.  The regret in his voice was unmistakable.  “The last time I saw him, we were yelling at each other.”

              “Don’t beat yourself up,” Carly said.  “What’s important is that he knew you loved him, and you need to realize he loved you, too.  Nothing, not even a fight, changes any of that.” 

He reached forward unexpectedly and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.  He said softly, “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here, Carly.” 

His words warmed her.  But before she could reply, the French doors opened wide and Roy and the twins approached.   

              “There you are!” Roy exclaimed.  "We were looking all over for you."                 

              “Thanks for showing up, guys,” Jake said to Roy and Aaron, truly appreciative of the effort it took them to find last minute flights to make it to the funeral.