Mackenzie
Two days later, the Fury lost game five and Jake was still incommunicado.
To escape my heartache, I got the hell out of Dodge.
I flew to my mom’s desert home in Joshua Tree, California, desperate for some one-on-one time.
While my dad was all about sharp suits and snappy suspenders, my mom was all about free love and nature. Her hacienda-styled home was surrounded by desert and palm trees. Wind chimes and crystals hung from branches and roof rafters, and the air was warm with the sweet smell of herbs. Everywhere you looked there were terracotta pots filled with some kind of herb or spice that my mom would pick at twilight and use in her popular remedies.
She owned an essential oil and flower water business, which was popular throughout the country. It wasn’t a huge production but it allowed her to spend her days doing what she loved the most: tending to her garden and soaking up the glorious, southern California sunshine.
Which was exactly where I found her when I turned up unannounced. She was outside by the pool, cutting lavender from a large plant in a brightly decorated terracotta pot. She was also naked.
No. She wasn’t naked.
She was wearing a Stetson.
“Mom,” I called to her from the patio.
She swung around at the sound of my voice and a big grin spread across her beautiful face when she saw me. “Daughter!”
You would think it would be awkward seeing my mom naked, right?
Wrong.
Did I mention that my mom was all for the free love, yada, yada, yada? I was raised by this free spirit, so seeing her naked and standing in her garden looking like Titania from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, kind of wasn’t a shocker for me.
Besides, from where I stood, her long blonde hair covered her ample boobs, while a well-placed calendula plant hid everything from the waist down.
“What a wonderful surprise!” She put down her garden shears and grabbed a long cotton shirt off a nearby gardening table, slipping it on as she came toward me.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy on me?” I teased as she buttoned up her shirt.
“Pure precaution, my darling. I’m not sure your hot hockey player is ready for all of this.” She winked as she swept a hand down the length of her slim figure.
At the mention of my hot hockey player my heart sank like a stone in water. I’d forgotten the promise I had made to bring Jake out to meet her.
But if my mom noticed my smile slip then she didn’t let on. When she reached me she pulled me into a big cuddle. “It’s so good to see you, my sweet girl.”
I held her a little tighter and for a little longer than I had intended, and it felt good to feel her familiar, comforting arms around me. When she pulled back, wise sparkling eyes zeroed in on mine.
“Is everything okay?” she asked gently. Knowingly. Which didn’t surprise me, because my mom was instinctual and knew things. “Your hot hockey player isn’t with you, is he?”
Nine words. One question. And I fell apart like a brick house on sand. Tears erupted from my eyes like a rogue irrigation system. My face crumpled. My mouth turned down and everything collapsed into one hell of an ugly cry. I threw my arms around my mom’s neck and sobbed into her warm shoulder.
Then came the babbling. I tried to explain about the bet and how Jake had found out and wouldn’t take my calls, but I was crying so hard I was quite inaudible. Finally, when I decided to come up for air my mom kissed me on the top of the head.
Holding me at arm’s length she smiled. “Come on. Let’s drink mojitos and you can tell me all about it.”
* * *
My mom’s mojitos rocked.
They were also lethal. After a jug of them I was able to stop blubbering like a pre-teen and calmly tell my mom what happened because if I was honest, I was half-way to inebriation. Mom listened patiently, her wise, blue eyes glittering in the dying desert light as she absorbed all the details about Jake and our breakup.
Somewhere inside the house the Small Faces sang about Itchycoo Park, and I was momentarily transported back to the summer I had spent here following my parents divorce when I was twelve. Back to when life was much easier. Back to when I wasn’t a hockey player hurting monster.
“He’s hurt and he’s angry,” Mom said, taking a sip of her mojito. “He just needs time to get it right in his head first.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t see the look on his face. He was gutted.”
“When he heard about the bet, or when he saw you with Purgatory?”
“Both.” My stomach flared with pain when I recalled running into him at the ESPYs. His face. His eyes. They were filled with hurt.
“Why don’t you try ringing him?” Mom suggested.
“I tried. But he doesn’t want to talk to me,” I sighed and rested my head against the back of the chair. Dusk had settled into twilight and the first stars were out. “And why would he? I’m a horrible person.”
Mom gave me a pointed look. “Is it lonely there at that pity party for one?”
Clearly, my mom didn’t support my self-pity.
“Aren’t you supposed to soothe me?” I asked. “And feed me ice cream, and tell me everything is going to be okay?”
She waved off my suggestion. “I prefer mojitos and the truth. Both are equally effective.”
I poured the last drop of mojito mix into my glass. “Well, the truth is that I am a horrible person.”
Mom stood up. “No. The truth is you need to speak to him. Why not try again?” She gave me a mystical look, her eyes glittering at me in the dying light. She raised her arms and glanced around her. “You’re in the desert now, honey. Magic happens here.”
She picked up the empty mojito jug and winked at me before disappearing inside.
I sucked in a deep breath and held it there for a moment, then slowly released it, feeling my muscles unwind and relax.
It’s hard to explain, but there really is something magical about the desert at dusk. Especially at Joshua Tree.
I toyed with my cell phone in my hand. I was desperate to hear Jake’s voice but the chances of him answering were next to nothing. So far he hadn’t picked up a single one of the calls I’d made since the ESPYs. What was the point in trying again?
Yet something in the desert air was urging me to ring.
I sighed and drained the last of my mojito. What did I have to lose? I quickly found his number and hit the call button.
My heart lurched when he picked up.
“Hey, Z.”
And then it broke all over again when I heard that beautiful deep voice of his and his use of my nickname.
“Hey,” I replied gently, trying to hold back a sudden well of tears. Pain swelled like a tsunami of emotion in my chest.
He sounded so close, like he was right next to me, and I wished he was just so I could wrap my arms around him and breathe him in. I bit back the cold ache that had suddenly formed in the back of my throat.
“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to answer,” I said truthfully, scurrying my brain for something to say. There was so much to say yet now that I had the chance, I couldn’t remember a single thing. “How are you?”
There was a pause, and then, “I’m good. I’m just taking it easy before the game on Wednesday. How are you?”
Heartache swirled through me. It was so good to hear his voice.
“I miss you.” My voice broke when I said it, and I had to swallow deeply and look at the twilight sky to stop the tears from spilling down my cheek.
His voice was husky as he said, “I miss you, too.”
Hearing him say those words was the final straw and I failed to bite back the sob I’d been holding back since he’d answered his phone.
“I wanted to explain to you about Purgatory.”
He was quiet for a moment before he said, “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Z, it’s none of my—”
“I was there as a favor, Jake.” I interrupted him. “Purgatory’s date came down with the stomach flu at the last minute and he needed someone to escort.”
There was a pause on the other end. And for a moment I wondered if Jake had heard me or not.
“So you signed him?” he finally asked, his voice even.
Even though he couldn’t see me I shook my head. “Garrick will be handling his contract.”
More silence and I imagined Jake nodding. But I didn’t know what he thought because he didn’t say anything more about it.
So I broke the silence. “I really want to see you.”
Another pause before he finally said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Z. I want to stay focused on the playoffs,” he added, his voice deep and husky. “I really need to keep my head in the game. We lost game four and five.”
“I know,” I whispered.
I had watched. Jake’s game had been off. He was clearly preoccupied and I blamed myself.
I struggled with a new round of tears. “Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we through?”
There was a long, torturous moment before he answered.
“I’m really grateful to you, Z. I’m where I am because of you. And for whatever reason you did it, you believed in me enough to get me this far. I will always be grateful for that. But something broke. And I’ve had too many things break in my life.” I heard him sigh and just the sound of his breath leaving his body sent my stomach into a flutter. “We’ll talk after the playoffs, okay?”
“Okay,” I barely managed the word because my throat was so tight. I hadn’t thought that my heart could break anymore but I’d been wrong. Hearing him say goodbye and then hang up in my ear, sent an all-too-familiar heartache washing over me.
“How did it go?” My mom asked from the doorway.
I shook my head because I couldn’t find the words and like the teenager I had morphed into, I started crying again.
Mom wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Here,” she pulled a small vial of liquid out of her shirt pocket. “This is my latest batch of Unbreak My Heart.”
Mom’s flower essences were legendary.
But I shook my head. “Thanks, Mom. But I think I’m going to need something a little stronger than that to put me back together again.”
She pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from her other shirt pocket. “Come on. Let’s get baked and listen to what the desert has to tell us. No point moping about something you have no control over tonight.”
Then turning up the music, she lit the joint with a candle.