Epilogue
Six months later, Jake and Pam were sitting on the bleachers at a packed basketball game, watching Ryan. The gym thundered with the clamoring of parents, siblings, and students. Kids ran up and down the aisles. Moms cheered, dads clapped, and Jake felt as if everything was the same as before—except that everything was also different.
The gym was smaller and shabbier, in a tougher part of town. Ryan wasn’t playing, but assistant-coaching, and none of the players was very tall, because they were eight-year-old girls. Their ponytails bounced in their matching scrunchies, their purple T-shirts hung to their knobby knees, and their wide-leg shorts flapped when they ran. Jake took a special interest in the kids’ gear because he had bought it all. The team was the Gardenia Guardians, named for what was left of his company.
He nudged Pam, pleased. “They look good, huh?”
“What?” Pam kept watching the game, craning her neck.
“They look good!” Jake said, louder, and Pam looked at him like he was crazy, her blue eyes amused behind her glasses.
“What are you talking about? They’re losing by seven points.”
“The uniforms, I mean.”
Pam rolled her eyes. “It still bugs me they’re purple. Gardenias aren’t purple.”
“White is boring, honey.”
“Gardenias aren’t white, they’re ivory, which is a lovely color.”
“Kids don’t want lovely. They want cool, and purple is cool.”
“Oh, hush! Watch the game.” Pam turned to the court.
Jake half-watched the game, contentedly. Bottom line, he was happy to be alive. His stomach still hurt from time to time, but he’d even started running with Ryan. In fact, he’d already lost two pounds. Well, it was a start.
Jake sensed the worst was over. Dr. Dave had pleaded guilty to both murders and was sentenced to life without parole, thus avoiding the death penalty. The media had moved on almost instantly, though the gossip lingered in their development, at school, in social media, and in the financial-services community. They would forever be the family who had left the scene of a hit-and-run, but they tried to hold their heads high. Jake hadn’t lost his certification, and Amy and almost all of his employees stayed with him. His remaining clients were making money, so he hoped that word-of-mouth would attract new ones. If it didn’t, he’d stay small or start over. He’d learned there were worse things in life than losing your job.
Pam nudged him, pointing to the court. “Honey, look. Tiffany’s going to shoot.”
“She’ll miss.”
“Don’t be that way.”
“Please. They always miss. The final scores are, like, three to two.”
Pam hit his leg playfully. “Aw, but she’s so cute. I love that little girl.”
“That’s true. She’s adorable.” Jake watched Tiffany shove the basketball two-handed into the air, then it fell to the court, bouncing away.
“Oh well.” Pam chuckled, shaking her head. Both teams raced after the ball, tumbling over one another, a rolling mob of flailing arms and outstretched fingers.
“Looks like a shoe sale at Nordstrom’s,” Jake said, and Pam laughed, which pleased him no end. They were back in therapy, putting their marriage back together, sometimes with Ryan, too. Pam had been depressed for months, but had begun to come around after the headlines died down. The local law firms didn’t make her a job offer, so she was working as a contract lawyer, writing briefs for the big, white-shoe firms in Philly. They wouldn’t put her name on the papers, but they were happy to have her brainpower. They’d considered moving away from Concord Chase, but decided against it, unanimously. It wouldn’t work in the age of Facebook, and they were through with family secrets.
Ryan had gotten through a predictably difficult junior year, with the school and the team in turmoil. The Chasers lost to Lower Merion in the championship, and the basketball recruiters never called Ryan again, though he’d weathered the social storm at school and kept his grades up. The assistant-coaching gig had fulfilled his community service obligation, but he’d already finished the required hours. He’d found a calling in coaching and landed a summer job assistant-coaching in the playground league, for the Concord Chase Rec Department. He was even talking about applying to colleges closer to home. Pam was relieved he wouldn’t be leaving the nest completely, and Jake acted like he was happy on her behalf, but he was happy for himself. He loved spending time with Ryan, and it turned out that he didn’t have to compete with Call of Duty. On the contrary, he learned to play video games.
Jake watched Ryan calling to the kids on the sidelines, and his heart swelled with pride. He went to all the games, just to watch Ryan, and felt as if he was finally gaining ground with their son. Ryan, Pam, and he spent more time together than ever before, maybe because nobody else would talk to them. Turned out there was nothing like a public shunning to bring a family closer.
The cheering crowd leapt to its feet, and one of the girls on the opposing team blew past a Gardenia Guardian and actually scored a basket. Jake watched as the little Guardian burst into tears, ran off the court, and beelined to Ryan. Ryan bent down, gave her a big hug, then talked to her and sent her back into the game.
Pam let out a sympathetic moan. “Aw, that’s Talisa, the poor kid. She feels terrible.”
“Yes, but look at our son,” Jake said, with a quiet satisfaction. He fast-forwarded into the future, to the time when Ryan became a father to his own child. Jake could see how loving Ryan would be, and how kind. They had both wanted to meet with Kathleen’s parents to apologize, but the Lindstroms had declined the meeting, and it had been Ryan’s idea to plant a weeping willow in their backyard, as their private memorial to Kathleen. Suddenly Jake’s heart lifted, easing a burden that he hadn’t realized he was carrying until this very moment. He had made so many mistakes as a father, but in the end, he’d done one thing right. He’d been a better father than his own, and Ryan would be the best father of all.
“Jake.” Pam leaned over, excited. “Look!”
“I’m watching, I’m watching.” Jake came out of his reverie.
“Not at the game, at the stands.” Pam pointed across the court. “Look over there. Do you see what I see? Third row up, in the pink ball cap, with the white tank top. Isn’t that Sabrina?”
“Yes.” Jake nodded, matter-of-factly.
“What’s she doing here? Is something going on between her and Ryan?”
“Well, he was worried she friend-zoned him, but he’s taking her out tonight. It’s their first date but she texts him constantly from Friends Central camp, where she’s a counselor-in-training. She writes funny texts and he likes that—”
“Wait. How do you know all this?” Pam looked at him, wide-eyed.
“I’m baller, honey. I’m baller G.”
“What?” Pam burst into laughter, and Jake wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead and catching a scent of her gardenia perfume. His wife was the most wonderful woman he had ever known, and he felt so grateful to be her Husband Material.
Just my luck.