May 6, nine years ago

 

Baseball kept me busy, but when I was alone, guilt ate at me, thinking about what I could have done differently that night to avoid Etta having to go through all this bullshit. If only I hadn’t taken my eyes off her when she came to kiss me.  If only I had stood up for her right after he kissed her.  If only I had walked her to the bathroom.  If only…

Time was not making things better for me, but I hid my guilt from her.  I watched over Etta carefully as much as possible, feeling it was my duty for allowing what happened that night.  She was getting help from a therapist and seemed better, but the subtle changes to her personality still were there.  I know I had only known her a very short time, but I could tell she struggled.  The people who knew her, her friends and Jackson, said she was different.  Since I didn’t know how she was before that night, I paid attention to how they talked about her when she wasn’t in the room.  They all said she stopped touching people when she talked; plus, she wasn’t as talkative with those around her and slightly less friendly.  She didn’t smile as easily.  She was jumpy and a little skittish.  She joked less.  She just wasn’t her normal feisty self.  She was still Etta, just less so.

They noticed that her appearance changed as well.  She wore much baggier t-shirts and longer shorts.  She wore even less makeup than she did before, often opting for none at all.  Every day she wore her hair up, usually in a bun or a ponytail.  And more noticeable, to me anyway, were her stormier eyes – more grey, less greenish-blue, and certainly less bright. 

I hung out in the training room whenever I could, which was pretty much every day we weren’t on the road.  It became my mission to make her laugh.  She seemed to like having me around; at least if she didn’t like it, she didn’t say anything.  Plus, I was fighting this muscle pull in my left shoulder that she was treating. 

Our stretches of away games were brutal for me, but I’d call her as often as I could just to check on her.  She said she appreciated me doing that.  I was the only one who knew, besides her therapist –  well, and Franklin –  about that night.  She said she was glad she had someone she didn’t have to pretend around because the pretending was exhausting.  I got that.

Tomorrow, I was scheduled to leave again.  Franklin’s knee was still bothering him, and coach said I would be starting both games this weekend. 

No.  I didn’t tell Coach about Franklin.  Etta asked me not to.  I tried to convince her that she shouldn’t allow him to get away with this, but she insisted I drop it. 

“Nathaniel,” she insisted when I brought it up one day, “if we tell coach, you would get in trouble for being at the bar and for fighting.”

“I think Coach would be understanding under the circumstances, Etta. And I can handle the consequences.  I need you to be okay.”

“I’m okay, really.  And anyway, it would be his word against mine, and I just want it to go away.”

But it wasn’t going away, especially since Franklin’s knee was still an issue.

Therefore, I paid attention to the locker room talk and how he seemed around the girls he dated; I didn’t hear of him forcing himself on anyone else.  He seemed remorseful.  But the thing that was his saving grace was mainly that he left her alone, only going to the training room when she wasn’t there.  However, the glares he gave me almost made me want to ignore Etta’s request. 

Early before our first classes, she told me to meet her in the training room.  I sat on my usual table today in front of Etta.  Ever her guinea pig, she wanted to try some new treatment on me for my muscle strain, so she had me sitting with my arm draped over her shoulder while she worked on me with some new liniment.  I was shirtless, and she was just as beautiful as she ever was, so I had to fight hard to concentrate on something other than how good she smelled, or how soft her skin looked, or how she was close enough to feel her breath on my naked chest while touching my naked shoulder.

“So tonight,” Etta began as she rubbed the spot on my shoulder giving me trouble, “Beth wants to watch a DVD at her place.  Wanna join us?”

I rolled my eyes.  “I’ll bring the nail polish and ingredients for s’mores.”  I clapped my hands and bounced like a little girl.

She smiled.  It wasn’t a laugh, but hey, I’d take what I could get.  She placed my arm back over her shoulder.

“So does that mean you’re coming?” she deadpanned. 

Jackson walked into the room with his breakfast.  He waved at me, said hi to Etta, and walked into his office.

“By the way, did you say anything to Jackson?  He’s been weird around me lately, never leaving me alone in here.  Did you say something to him about Franklin?” she asked, thumbing a particularly sore spot.

“Ow, Jeez, Eddie.”  Yes, I stole her sister’s nickname for her.  “What the hell?”

“Wuss.”  She moved her thumb.  “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I only told Jackson to make sure you were never alone with him.”  She dropped her arms and gave me the wicked evil eye.  “Okay.  I told him something the fuck nugget said to me before that night.  I told him I didn’t like what he said and didn’t trust him.”  I looked her dead in the eye.  “I didn’t tell him what happened, I swear.”  She moved back to my shoulder.  “You know how protective Jackson is.”

She paused.  “So, what’d he say?”  I shook my head, but she did that thumb thing again, sending pain all the way up my neck.  “Tell me.”

“Damn, Eddie.”  I winced away from her torture.  “Fine.  He said he’d like to, um, take your virginity.”  I bit my lip waiting for the painful reaction.  “Except not quite that nicely.”

“Too late.”  She resumed her ministrations.  “That’s been gone a while.”

I turned and grabbed her chin forcing her to look in my eyes.  “I’m really sorry for not protecting you better that night.”  I surprised myself by finally admitting that to her.  She looked at me wide eyed and started blinking rapidly.  “I should never have let it happen.”

“You didn’t let it happen, Nathaniel.  You are no more responsible than I am. Okay?”  I nodded and ran my thumb across her chin.  She smiled and rested her forehead against mine.  I closed my eyes, hoping maybe she would kiss me.  But no.  She stood up straight and pushed slightly on my chest.  “So stop blaming your sorry ass.”

“Nathaniel,” Coach’s booming voice interrupted.  I hung my head and dropped my hand from Etta’s face.  From his perspective, this probably looked bad, like I was fraternizing or some other old people word for hooking up.  So I steeled myself for one of his famous speeches, and by famous, I meant loud.

I turned to look at coach, but he didn’t look angry.  In fact, he looked at me with pity.  He had his hat in his hands; Coach never took his hat off except for the National Anthem.  Fuck.  Whatever he was going to tell me, it was not good.

“Nate, can you come with me to my office?” he asked softer than he usually spoke.

“Why can’t you talk to me here?” I asked weakly.  I knew it was bad.  I didn’t want to stand.  Really, I didn’t want to leave Etta.

He turned to Etta.  “Can you give us a minute, Sweetheart?”

She nodded and turned, but I grabbed her wrist.  “Don’t go.”  I turned to Coach.  “She can stay.”

Coach placed his hand on the back of his neck.  “Son.”  Shit.  It was bad.  Someone who isn’t your father calls you son, it’s definitely not good news.  “I just got off the phone with your mother.”  He took a deep breath.  “There’s been an accident.”

I jumped up from the table.  “Is she okay?”

“Yes, but…”

“Oh shit, is it Jake?” I started pacing.  Etta reached out to me calming me instantly with her hand on my shoulder. 

“No.”  He paused and sighed again.  “It’s your dad.”

I fell back onto the table, completely stunned. 

Coach continued.  “Apparently he was driving home late last night from work and was in a car accident.”  He stepped closer to me.  “Your mother has been trying to reach you all morning.”  I felt my pocket for my cell phone to check it.  It was dead, which was weird.  I was sure I charged it all night.  “She asked me to tell you to call her at home.”

“At home?”  I looked back and forth between Etta and the coach.  “Shouldn’t she be at the hospital with Dad?”

I heard Etta gasp and saw her put her hand over her mouth out of the corner of my eye.  He placed a hand on the opposite shoulder Etta touched.  “No, Nate… your dad… he’s… um… he didn’t make it.”

I felt Etta’s grip tighten on my right shoulder.  “This is a joke, right?”  I swatted Etta’s hand away and began pacing again.  “I mean, it’s sick and cruel, but it has to be.  Right, Coach?” 

His face told me it wasn’t. 

I went numb. 

Voices.  I heard them, but nothing registered. 

Then a door closed. 

Quiet. 

I felt Etta’s arms.  Around me.  Comforting me.  Her arms were around me, and I was too numb to enjoy them.  I felt them though, so I guess I wasn’t completely numb.  I used her as a touchstone, a grip to reality.  I focused on her, relishing her warmth, losing myself in it.  All I could feel was her, wrapped around me.  Finally.  I sank into her.  I forgot why she was this close to me.  Just that she was.  I held her like I wanted to two months ago.  And for the first time to embrace her, she fit so perfectly.  In my arms.  Against my bare chest.  I breathed her in, sweet, like vanilla and oranges.  Dreamsicles.  My favorite as a child.  She just gets more perfect.

She pulled back and looked at me tenderly, handing me something – her cell phone.  A tear slid down her face.  I touched her cheek, catching the tear on my fingertips, confused as to why she was crying.

“You need to call your mom,” she whispered. 

Then it hit – why I needed to call.  Fuck.  My dad... 

I pushed the cell phone away.  “No.”  She looked at me confused.  I shook my head.  “I can’t, not over the phone.”

She handed it back to me.  “Dial the number, Nathaniel.”  I went to push it away again but she stopped me.  “I’ll tell her you’re coming, but I don’t know the number.”

The numbness washed over me again.  I heard her talk to my mother, but I wasn’t focused on what she was saying.  Then it was quiet again. 

Warmth.  Her body leaning into mine.  Her hand rubbing my back.  I closed my eyes and focused on it, and the scent of Dreamsicles.  God, I loved that smell.

“We need to go, Nathaniel,” Etta said, her husky voice like a blanket over me.

“Okay.”  I stood up and grabbed my shirt off the table.  She grabbed her things off the shelf behind her and stood next to me, keys in her hand.  “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Taking you to your mom’s.”  She smiled sadly.  “I promised your mother I wouldn’t let you drive.”

“I can drive myself,” I argued weakly.

“Just… just let me do this for you, Nathaniel, okay?”

I looked into her eyes.  Hints of the color I loved were returning.  Amazing.  That was just what I needed. 

I nodded.  “Okay.”

She led me out to her car.  I was able to give her directions to my mother’s house in Deer Park, but beyond that, I was not conscious of much else. 

My childhood home held memories, especially the front yard, the place where my dad and I played countless hours of catch.  I closed my eyes, trying to erase the memory right now.  I was too raw.  I didn’t want to lose it before I saw my mom.  She needed me to be strong.  She was the reason I wasn’t losing it right now.  Not the only reason.  The real reason was Etta.   Etta kept me strong so I could be there for Mom.  And boy did she need it.

Mom fell into my arms as soon as she saw me.  She was a mess.  I don’t care how much of a man a person thinks he is, but seeing his mom go through something like this?  Awful.  I just held her.  It was all I could do.

While I comforted Mom, Etta took over everything else.  She called Coach and asked him to handle school arrangements for me.  She called Jake and found out a friend would bring him home in a few hours.  Then she made us lunch, which neither my mom nor I felt like eating.  She spent the next couple of hours making hotel arrangements for relatives, intercepting and making phone calls, arranging food deliveries from friends and neighbors, setting up appointments with the funeral home, and she even offered to pick up my grandparents tomorrow from the airport.

While Etta handled everything from the kitchen, I held my mother on the couch, both of us absently watching television.  We both seemed semi-dazed.  I was just glad my mother finally stopped crying.

“Are y’all done with these?” Etta asked, pointing to the barely-touched plates of food.

“How do you know what to do?” I asked Etta.

She smiled down at me.  “My grandmother died a few months ago, and my aunt died two years ago.”  She picked up a napkin from the floor.  “I helped my mom make all the arrangements.”

My mom grabbed her arm as she turned to walk away.  “I’m Tammy.”

Etta sat on the table in front of my mother and me.  She held out her hand.  “I’m Etta.”

My mom took Etta’s hand in both of hers and brought it to her face.  “Thank you so much, Etta.  For all you’ve done today.”  My mother smiled at her.  Jeez, even through the darkest time of my mother’s life, Etta can get her to smile.  Amazing.  “Why haven’t I met you before?”  Mom turned to me.  “Why haven’t I met her before?”

I looked at my mother, open mouthed and not sure how to answer her question.

Etta came in for the save.  “Mrs. Slaughter, Nathaniel and I haven’t known each other that long.  I happened to be with him earlier when he got the news, so I came to help.”

“I appreciate it.  So much.”  She sat up fully and took a chip off the plate Etta made earlier.  “And please, call me Tammy.”  She took a sip from a water bottle.  “Are y’all dating?” 

“Mom,” I interrupted somberly.  Now was not the time to get into the complicated relationship that was Etta’s and mine.  “We don’t have to talk about this now.”

“Why not now, Nathaniel?” my mother asked in her almost normal, slightly irritated tone.  “I’m trying to distract myself from my grief for a minute by asking about the relationship between my son and this beautiful girl he brought home today and trying to figure out why he has kept her a secret.  I don’t think it’s too much to ask.  So, shut it, okay?”

Etta smiled and covered her mouth, unsuccessfully suppressing the giggle that escaped.  It was a beautiful sound.

“Fine.  You two talk.  I’m going to take a shower.” 

I broke down in the shower, reeling in the loss of my dad.  I took a few minutes to allow myself to feel the sadness, then spent the rest of the time trying to reign it back in before it crippled me.  I didn’t want Mom to see me like this.  I had to be strong for her.

I turned off the water and heard them.  Both women were giggling like teenagers, most likely at my expense.  Unbelievable. 

I dressed quickly, making myself more presentable for funeral planning.  When I entered the living room, Mom and Etta were sitting on the couch holding hands, smiling and talking like they had known each other for years.  It both warmed my heart and scared the shit out of me to have both of the women in my life getting along so well.  I knew in the pit of my soul that their alliance would probably bite me in the ass.  It’s more than a little terrifying to have two very spirited women forming a bond of sisterhood that will eventually be used to conspire against me.

The first round of visitors arrived.  I let my Aunt Carrie and Mom’s best friend, Amanda, into the house.  I really didn’t want to let them in, fearful that Mom would go back to the crumpled mess we found when we got there.  The mood shifted once the ladies entered the room, but my mother didn’t fall apart.  My mother is strong, don’t get me wrong, and she probably would have been okay had she not met Etta, but I still had to give Etta props for doing what I couldn’t do – un-shattering Mom. 

I led Etta into the kitchen.  I started helping her clean up the lunch mess.  “So, what were you two talking about when I came out of the shower?”

She smiled sheepishly.  “You.  How we met.  What you and I…”

“What all did you tell her?”  I had to know.

“The truth.  That we’re just friends.”  I felt a huge pang of disappointment.  “She has an interesting theory about that.”

Yeah, because I knew Mom sensed how I felt about Etta. 

“No, I mean did you tell her everything… about what happened… the day after we met?”  She stopped working and looked at me with her eyebrow raised.  “My mom has a way of getting people to tell her things.”  She snickered.  “Trust me, I’ve never been able to keep anything from her.  And she knows things without me having to tell her.  She’s psychic or has Jedi mind powers or something.”

“You’re right.”  She resumed working.  “She knows everything.”

“Are you okay with that?”

She rolled her eyes.  “If I wasn’t, Nathaniel, I wouldn’t have told her.  I really like her.”

“I can tell she likes you, too.”  I smiled. 

“Do you think it’s okay to leave your mom for a little while?”

“Yeah,” I rubbed my head.  “She’s in good hands.  Why?”

“Trust me.”  She told my mom we’d be back soon and led me to her car.

When we pulled up to The Granite Slab, I smiled.  “You remember about ice cream?”

She got out of the car.  “Of course I do.  Your mom mentioned this was the place y’all used to go.  I figured we’d get some for your mom, and whoever else wants some.”

“What is the ‘my-dad-just-died’ flavor?” 

She smiled again.  “Don’t know.  Since I’ve never been through that, you get to choose.”  She walked up to the counter.

“What will your mom want?”

“When she comes here, she always gets cheesecake ice cream.”  I paused.  “Speaking of my mom, what was her theory about us?”  I asked. 

“That members of the opposite sex can’t be just friends,” she added casually, browsing the ice cream options. 

“And you disagree?”  I asked, trying to sound as casual as she did.

She turned to face me.  “Yes.  In fact, I bet her that we’d prove her wrong.”

“You actually bet her?” I smiled.  I knew for a fact that my mother never bets on anything other than a sure thing.  And she’s never lost.  Ever.  It also meant my mother was on my side.

“Yep,”  Etta responded, sounding quite resolved.  “And I intend to win it.”

Shit.

 

***

 

When we returned, Jacob had arrived, and a whole new torrent of sadness enveloped the house.  Mom didn’t sink into the hole she was in before, but Jake definitely brought back her tears.

Mom, Jake and I sat on the couch eating ice cream while we discussed the preliminary arrangements we would discuss at the funeral home this evening.  Mom wanted a Saturday funeral so that Jake and I could return to “the normalcy of our lives,” but she didn’t realize that normal felt pretty inconsequential right now.  We didn’t argue… we learned early in our lives never to argue with Mom. 

Etta stayed at the house while we went to the funeral home.  Arranging a funeral for a parent royally sucks.  I just agreed to anything Mom wanted.  She and Dad had the funeral discussion after my grandfather died a few years back.  After that fiasco of a funeral, they felt a talk was necessary.

We returned home hungry and exhausted.  Etta helped Aunt Carrie and Amanda set out some food our neighbors had delivered.  They all got along well.  It seemed everyone loved Etta.

“Will you take me to get my car?” I asked Etta while we cleaned the kitchen after everyone left.  It was nearing 11:00 p.m., and Mom and Jake had just headed off to bed.

She noticed me yawn.  “You sure you want to go this late, Nathaniel?  It’s really far and you look really tired.”

“I doubt anyone will have time to take me to get it tomorrow.  I think I’ll need it.”

“I’ll take you in the morning.”  She shrugged her shoulders.  “Your mom suggested… well she pretty much insisted, that I stay here since it’s so late.  She offered your room, actually.  Said you and Jake can have the bunk beds in his room.”

“We’re gonna actually have a sleep over?”  I smiled.  “I’ve heard of girls’ sleepovers.  Do we have to watch chick flicks and eat junk food?”

She nodded.  “And we can do each other’s hair.”  She moved toward me and placed a hand on my arm.  “I already planned to stay at Beth’s tonight.  I’ll get my stuff out of the car.”

I put my hand over hers to stop her from walking away.  “Thank you, Etta.  For everything.  You’ve been…” I trailed off not sure how to explain what she’d meant to my family… well, to me today.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and snuggled into my chest.  There it was again.  Warmth.  Dreamsicles.  Perfection.  “Yeah, like you’ve been to me the last couple of months.  Just returning the favor.”  She released me way too soon.  “It’s what friends do.”

Fucking friends.  Yay.

 

***

 

The next morning, the smell of coffee was the first thing that confused me.  The second was the lingering dreamy thought of doing naughty things to Dreamsicles.  The third was the comfortable warmth of the body in my arms.  Etta.  That explained the dream and its noticeable effect.

We fell asleep on the couch about ten minutes into watching some Adam Sandler movie, but I don’t know how we ended up spooning.  I had to get up before she woke up and figured out really quickly how waking up with her affected me.  I tried to untangle myself from her carefully, but it was very difficult.  One thing I learned that morning – Etta is a very heavy sleeper.  Good thing to know.

After visiting the restroom, I made my way to the kitchen to see who was up so early.  Mom sat at the island, coffee in hand next to her face, as if trying to inhale the caffeine directly into her lungs.  My heart broke a little more when I saw her.

“You get any sleep?” I asked, resting my arm around her shoulders. 

She leaned into me.  “A little.  I might take Amanda up on her offer to get Mike to prescribe some downers.  It helps for shit like this to have a friend who married a doctor.  It’s a wonder that chick isn’t an addict.” 

“Don’t joke like that, Mom.  Drugs are never the answer.”

“See, I raised you right.”  She elbowed me in the side.  “And since we’re on the subject, I need to give you some advice.” 

I grabbed the bottle of orange juice out of the refrigerator.  “Hit me.”

“You need to be careful with that girl, Nathaniel.”

“Mom, you drilled enough safety into my head in high school.  No other mother ever bought condoms for her sons every time she went to the store.”  I moved to take a drink straight from the bottle only to have it jerked out of my hand.  She moved to the cabinet to get me a cup.  “You realize I sold them to my friends for profit, right?  A box a week is a lofty goal for a high school kid, Mom.”  I smiled.  “Even me.”

“I’m glad you got the safety message, but that isn’t what I meant.”  She poured the orange juice and handed me the bottle to put up.  “I have never liked any of the vapid idiots you brought home to meet me before, so believe me when I tell you that I like Etta.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” I deadpanned.

“No, I mean I really like her.  Like I see-her-as-the-mother-of-my-grandkids like her.”

“Jeez, Mom.”

“And I can see that you really like her, too.  In fact, I see you more than just like her.” She took a sip of her coffee.  “Right?”

“From the first time I saw her.  She smells like Dreamsicles.”  I admitted things like this to my mom, and I didn’t feel like a pussy doing it.  She saw through all my macho bullshit anyway, so there wasn’t any sense pretending with her.  I wasn’t kidding about the psychic stuff.  She was scary sometimes.

“Sweet.  You loved those as a kid.”  She smiled.  “Then I’m telling you that you need to give her time.  Slow down.  Do this friend shit for a while.  She will come around.  Let her come to you, Nate.”  She pat me on the shoulder.  “Trust me, she will.  You just have to be patient.”

I nodded and closed my eyes.  “Okay.”

“I’m serious, Nate.  Don’t.  Screw.  This.  Up.”

Why did everyone keep telling me that?