The spawns of Brad don’t have to be told twice. They drop the pans where they stand, setting off a clang that almost has me reaching up to cover my ears. Racing for the back mudroom, they shove on coats and jam their feet into boots. Rainey waits until they’re outside before she drops to her knees and begins bowing before Maris. “I’m not worthy.”
“I brought a different form of trouble back with homework.” Uh-oh. My testicles draw up in fear when Rainey’s head snaps up from her prostrate position the floor.
“Oh? What does he have to do?”
“Eliminate his email.” Both women laugh like it’s the biggest joke in the world.
“Why do you both find this funny?” I demand. I expect this is going to take me thirty minutes max even if there’s a limit to the number of messages I can delete at one time.
“Because you’re a man. You planned on just deleting all of the email and starting over, didn’t you?”
Busted. I thought it was a great idea, until Maris continues. “There’s answers to a lot of unasked questions about all of us in those emails. I suggest you settle in and make a half-assed effort to find them all. Now, Rainey, about this fundraiser…”
“Can we raise enough money to turn it into a boarding school?” she beseeches Maris.
“No. You have to keep your kids until at least they can provide for themselves.” Rainey groans as if she’s in physical agony. “But here’s what I was thinking.” Maris steps forward and drags Rainey from the floor. The two women link arms and move toward the kitchen.
“Hey,” I call out. Both women stop. “How long do I have to do this?” Meaning my Herculean task of cleaning out my email. Internally I shudder. I might get carpal tunnel from this.
Maris shrugs. “That’s entirely up to you, isn’t it?” Then she disappears out of sight with Rainey.
Procrastinating a little longer, I call Oliver. He makes arrangements to pick me up the following morning. “Me and Reece spent the weekend together. I put him through a few of your workouts.”
“How did he do?”
“Kicked my ass.”
“That isn’t hard to do,” I retort.
“Ha ha. Very funny. We rented some gym space to work on his ground game if you want to get in on that.”
Making a snap decision, I agree. “Let’s put him through his paces. I want to do the full day with him.”
Oliver groans. “Have you ever run here, boss?”
“Many, many times. Not enjoying the hills?”
“My calves feel like they’re on fire.”
“Then do some more stretches before you tear something,” I bark out.
“Already doing that.”
“I’ll take a look tomorrow. If you injured yourself, you’re not going to be the one sparring with your friend.” Even as the words come out, a thrill pumps through me. “I can always step in.”
“Give me permission to video this,” Oliver begs. “I might be able to sell it one day as ‘Two Champs’ or some shit. Maybe be able to buy myself a house as nice as yours.”
If I didn’t know he was teasing, I’d kick his ass. “Cute.”
“You’re no fun,” he complains good-naturedly before hanging up.
Now, sitting in Brad’s home office with my laptop and an unfathomable number of emails staring back at me, I’m at a loss where to begin. And Maris’s words keep ricocheting through my head, tantalizing me, like nothing else has lately. Even the idea of working with a new fighter.
There’s answers to a lot of your questions about all of us in those emails.
“When this is done, I’m starting a new account so I can leave this one for spam. Then I swear, I’ll double Charmaine’s salary to scan it for me,” I declare resolutely as I begin to delete a thousand emails at a time—the maximum my email provider will allow. Hours later, I’m left with 5,846 messages from the guys and more recently from their women. It’s about a percent of what I started with. I know many have slipped off the system, and I feel a huge pang of regret I’ll never get those back.
Especially when I spot Jed’s email address.
Before doing anything else, I create a folder and dump all of the messages in there so they’re at least safe from being eliminated due to time. Then I open up the oldest and start reading.
They’re mostly from Jed, keeping us up to date on trivial matters. There are a few replies from Brad and Kody, very few from Jennings. That is, until the message that causes my heart to stop.
Hey.
I’m going to be offline for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be back on.
Maris was involved in a serious car wreck in the early hours of the morning. She was airlifted to Fairbanks. I don’t know much more than that. Mom and Dad left at first light.
Guys, it’s bad. Really bad.
There’s nothing that anyone can do. Everything’s being done that can be done. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to be enough. This is my baby sister, my heart, my sunshine. But if you have it in you to say a few prayers, it would be appreciated.
- Jed
There was a flurry of emails right after that from all of the guys—except me. Jed never replied to any of them until he got back from Fairbanks to say Maris had been released. And there’s nothing from me because I never bothered to check my email because I wanted to leave everything about Alaska behind as I cocooned my pain over my abandonment tightly.
It was at least a year after this before they heard from me again since I chose to willingly cut all of them out of my life while I tried to run away from the anger and hatred. And when I let the guys back in, this never came up. Not then, not later.
“After all, she was home and healed, so why would they bother to bring it up to you, you selfish prick!” I yell at the reflection I see in the glare of the computer screen. “Motherfucking, selfish asshole. Boo-hoo. You were left by your mother. Who the hell cares? She could have died.”
The door squeaks as it opens. Rainey steps inside. “Nick, are you telling the truth?”
“Yeah, Rainey.” I spread my arms wide. “Take a good look. Why did all of you still give a damn about me?”
“No, I meant about being left by your mother.”
I turn away. Christ, Brad never told her in all these years? “Yes.”
“That’s what Brad knew about you all these years and wouldn’t share,” she guesses accurately.
“What does that matter? Maris almost died, and because I was too selfish I never knew. I couldn’t be there, even to offer support via an email.”
“But Maris didn’t die, Nick. And why are you still giving your—I hesitate to use this word—mother the power to decide your life?” Storming over to me, she gets in my face and pokes her finger right in the place that aches—my heart.
“Is this why you’ve always held back from all of us? From Maris?” Rainey demands.
“Yes! He died and she left me behind as if I was disposable. You all resurrected what was left of my heart. I ran so that little piece of perfection couldn’t be destroyed again.” What started as yelling ends up as a mere whisper.
“So, you did the same thing to us your parents did to you. Only your justification was love. Interesting.”