Worth the Fall (20 page)

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Authors: Mara Jacobs

BOOK: Worth the Fall
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Let’s go to bed. But you’re going to have to be on top for round two. My leg will barely get me down the hall.” He grinned. “But, damn it was worth it.”

He pulled up his pants and stepped away from the table. While he hobbled to get his crutches, she slid off the table, walked the few steps to the living room and grabbed a throw from the back of the couch, wrapping it around herself.

“Aww, now that’s a shame,” he said, watching her as he propped himself up on the crutches. “Come on, I’ve got to lie down and get this thing off.”

She started to speak but kept her mouth shut and followed him to her room. He got himself to the bed and sat on the edge, propping the crutches on the nightstand. He reached for the brace, but she was beside him and brushed his hands away.

“Let me,” she said, and bent to loosen the Velcro straps. He started to reach for her, but she got the brace off quickly and moved away, placing it on the floor where he’d be able to reach it in the morning.

He moved back on the bed, then eased his leg up. He propped himself up against the headboard, and looked at her.
“You’re not coming to bed, are you?”

She shook her head.
“It was…it was amazing, Petey.”


Hell yes, it was, and can be again in just a little while. Now come to bed, Al.”


No. And it can’t happen again.”


That’s what you said last night.” It wasn’t smug, but more of a gentle reminder that she’d changed her mind once, why not again.


I know. But it’s the truth this time. It was great. And it opened my eyes to some things about me that now make sense. But Petey, you must know there can never really be anything between us.”


No. I don’t know that.”

She reached out to him, pushed his hair back from his face and then stepped away toward the door.

“Al, seriously, why not?”

She sighed, a sudden sadness taking her over.

“You know why,” she whispered and left the room.

 

Fifteen

 

When you have to make a choice and don
’t make it, that is in itself a choice.

~ William James

 

Eighteen Years Ago

 


Thanks for meeting me,” Alison said to Petey when he slid into the front seat of her car.

He nodded, not quite meeting her eyes.
“Sure thing,” he said and shut the door of her little Accord. He glanced at her quickly, then stared straight ahead, taking in the view.

She
’d called and asked him to meet her at the Quincy Outlook, a scenic viewing area that overlooked both Hancock and Houghton.

Theirs were the only two cars in the lot, but later in the day tourists on their way to Copper Harbor would pull over, admire the view and probably take some pictures. It was a great view year round, but in the fall it could take your breath away.

But Alison could barely see beyond her dashboard. She certainly couldn’t enjoy the beauty laid out before them.


Um…” she started, then stopped. She tried to remember the little speech she’d rehearsed over and over in her mind for the past four days. She looked at him, and her mind went blank. He was so gorgeous. Even in profile. Maybe especially in profile. His black hair still had a little sheen from wetness—he must have just showered. He towered over her, even sitting down, and took up not only the passenger seat, but part of her space, too. His wide shoulders were only inches from her.

Shoulders she
’d wrapped her arms around five weeks ago. One night only. Her first. And they hadn’t been alone together since. And had barely spoken to each other when in a group since that night in Katie’s basement.

She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through his hair as she
’d done graduation night. It was so soft, she hadn’t touched it nearly enough that night.


Umm…” she tried again. She wanted to throw her arms around him and burrow into that broad chest that was already so much more a man’s than the a boy’s.

She
’d watched him at the beach when he wasn’t looking. She’d been on a towel only a few down from him. Part of the group, and yet now the dynamic had changed. God, how she’d wanted to follow him into the water and wrap her legs around his waist, have him hold her up in the water and feel the slick glide of their skin on each other’s. She wanted him to touch her like he had that night. To whisper the words of encouragement and desire that he’d whispered to her then.


Umm…” She saw his shoulders fall in defeat. He knew. He knew why she’d summoned up her courage, called him and asked to meet.


Just say it,” he said in a whisper. She wasn’t sure if he even knew he said it out loud.


I’m pregnant.” His whole body deflated at that. His chin dropped to his chest.


Fuck.”

***

He tried to rally. He thought he did it pretty quickly, but honestly he had no idea how long it’d been between her dropping the bomb and him swearing. He pulled his body up, bracing like he was about to get checked into the boards, and turning to face Alison.


What should we do?” he asked. A tiny tremble of what looked like relief shimmered through her tiny body. A body that wasn’t going to stay tiny for much longer.

Shit, his dad was going to kill him.

He did some quick calculations—easier to do since Alison still hadn’t answered him. They’d done it the night of graduation. He still considered it the best night of his life, even if she’d blown him off afterward. So, she’d have the baby around February. Right in the middle of hockey season. Right around Winter Carnival.

She
’d have to stay here, of course. No way could she be in the dorms at State with Lizzie and Katie and her big baby belly. But she could go to Tech for at least the first semester. It wouldn’t be a problem for her to get in at this late date—universities had been breaking down her door to offer her academic scholarships. She could have gone to any Ivy League school free of charge, but she’d decided to go to State with her girls.

Kind of like him. He
’d been recruited at several schools and been offered athletic scholarships at every one of them but had decided to stay here and play for Tech, even though he wouldn’t get the exposure he would have at a larger school. He and his dad had weighed it all out at the dining room table that’d been littered with letters from colleges for most of the year.

Exposure from a larger school versus being the big fish in a small pond. And his parents being able to see him play. He had to admit that one had him in knots, both for and against.

But ultimately he’d decided on Tech. Maybe it was meant to be. With him here, it would make it all easier—they’d have his parents and her parents for help when the baby came. He’d have to call Coach and see about switching from the dorms to married housing. Thankfully they’d both have scholarships. They’d never be able to swing staying in college any other way.

She still wouldn
’t look at him. She would marry him, wouldn’t she? He knew she was embarrassed that they’d slept together and had basically ignored him all summer.

But she couldn
’t ignore him now.

And yeah, he was scared shitless about the idea of becoming a father so young, but some deep, caveman gene was screaming that now he
’d have Alison.

She may be ashamed that Ms. Genius had the hots for Mr. Dumb Jock, but there was no denying how good they
’d been together.

It wasn
’t going to be easy, he wasn’t naïve. But damn, he did like the idea of waking up with her every morning.

But first they
’d have to tell their parents and then their friends.

Shit, his dad was going to kill him. Well, Lieutenant Dan was just going to have to suck it up.

“I’m not going to keep it,” Alison said pulling him out of his imaginary, sure-to-come argument with his father.


What?”

She shook her head.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Relief coursed through him, but she was still shaking her head. His gut clenched. “Not I’m not going to keep it. I’m not going to
have
it.”

The emotions rolled through his body. Fear—that his parents would find out about it. Irrational he knew, since he
’d just been imagining telling them they were going to be grandparents. Shame—that he’d be taking this girl to someplace out of town to…deal with it (shit, he couldn’t even mentally think the word). Regret—not about spending the night with Alison, he’d never regret that—but that he’d somehow put them both in this position. Sadness—for the future with Alison he’d just imagined never coming to be. And deep, deep sadness for the child who would not be.

And relief. The sense of relief was overwhelming and it raised the level of shame tenfold.

Could he talk her out of it? He studied her. She was such a strong, proud little thing, but the night they’d been together she’d clung to him, had looked at him with such passion and…something more.

Did he hold any sway over her? Could he make her keep it? Make her marry him? He
’d be off playing hockey, and she’d be stuck at home. He’d imagined her easy acceptance at Tech, but would she be able to keep up with a baby at home?

He was destined for great things on the ice, he knew it. He had a good dose of humility, but he knew deep in his bones that he
’d be a hockey star someday. Would having a baby derail that?

How could it not?

Alison was destined for academic greatness. She wanted to be a scientist and was bound to discover the cure for cancer or something else equally amazing. Would she be able to do that with a baby at eighteen?

He pushed the moral dilemma from his brain, too emotionally drained to even contemplate its weight right now. He would grapple with that later.

She finally—
finally
—looked at him. Tears welled in her beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to take up nearly half of her pixie face. Eyes that held a world of sadness.

His thoughts of trying to sway her in any direction flew from his over-taxed brain. All he wanted now was to take away her pain.

Knowing he could never do that, he vowed to do his best to at least share her pain. He lifted a hand and slowly slid it along her jawline, coming to rest on her soft cheek. His hand was so big that it encompassed nearly the entire side of her face. His fingertips brushed the bottom of her ear. Her hair was so soft against his rough hand.

He bent his head, brought his lips to her forehead and gave her the tiniest of kisses. He then rested his forehead against hers.
“How can I help? What can I do?” he whispered.

He saw the teardrops fall. With their heads at this angle, her tears fell straight down. They landed on her bare leg, just below the hem of her khaki shorts. The first one stayed there, a perfect drop upon the brown, tan skin. He wanted to reach down and touch it, smear it, wipe it away, like he wanted to wipe away this day.

But he didn’t move. He just held her face in his hand, rested his head against hers, and waited as more tears silently fell. The tears landed on top of each other, eventually causing an overflow that seeped toward her shorts, wetting the fabric at the edge.

He had no sense of how long they sat that way while she cried and he wished he could do something—anything—to help. Finally, she pulled away from him. He wanted to hold on, to ease her back to him, but her intention was clear and strong—she wanted to be away from him. She seemed to want as much distance from him as her tiny car would allow.

It felt just like the first time they’d seen each other after that night, when they’d all been at Katie’s. He’d had her for one night. He had her for a few moments now while she cried.

But he
’d never really have her. She was too smart for that.


Would you…take me? Go with me? To Green Bay. I found a place.”


Of course,” he said with no hesitation. He’d do whatever she needed him to do. Help ease her pain in any way he could.

He
’d worry about
his
pain some other day.

 

Sixteen

 

Ice hockey is a form of disorderly conduct in which the score is kept.

~ Doug Larson

 

The next morning, Alison listened intently to her patient. There was no tendency to daydream, and lord knew she had plenty of material for mind-wandering.

But no, she listened closely to James—not only to what he said, but more importantly to what he didn
’t.

James had tried to commit suicide two years ago as a senior in high school in Wisconsin. He
’d slit his wrists, but his mother—unexpectedly returning home from work with the flu—found him in time.

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