finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) Page 7

Crying is part of the grieving process, and if anyone knows about loss it’s Catalina. She has experienced so much death in her life. I have cried in the shower since the avalanche, because I, too, lost friends that day. And standing here in this church makes me teary-eyed, but I bite my lip and try my damndest to keep my shit together. One glance at Jax, and I can tell he’s trying to rein in his emotions, but the non-stop quivering of his lower lip gives him away. Placing a kiss on Catalina’s forehead, I excuse myself to pay my respects to Chris and Rem’s parents, and ask her not to leave Jax alone.

  It was difficult leaving his place this morning. He was a mess, and I thank God Cat is here to help him through this terrible process. He refused to attend the wake last night because he didn’t want to see their open caskets. He said it would mean the finality of their once adventurous lives, so he took sleep medication instead, taking the easy way out and not coping with his losses head-on. I understand, though. Who am I to criticize him?

  After greeting Chris’s and Rem’s folks and paying my respects, I see Jax and Catalina approaching the caskets on the base of the altar. I walk over and place a hand over Jax’s shoulder in solidarity and the other on Rem’s casket while Catalina kneels before the caskets and says a prayer in Spanish. As she prays, she clutches Jackson’s hand firmly while his free elbow rests against the wheelchair armrest. He lays his head into his hand and rubs his forehead with trembling fingers, his breathing becoming erratic as small sobs leave his chest.

  Catalina ends her prayer and whispers something into his ear. Her arm wraps around his shoulder reassuringly, and he whispers back in between sobs.

  “I should’ve aborted the run. I knew something was off. I was too embarrassed to admit to Rob I was wrong, and he was right. This is my fault.” His words break at the last word, and the sobs he was desperately trying to hold back come out full force. “I’m so sorry, guys. This is my fault. This is my fault! I’m sorry!” Jackson repeats endlessly until his cries turn into screams the kind that give you nightmares echoing against the walls of the church.

  “This is my fault, and I can’t do anything to bring you guys back! I’m sorry! Please forgive me, guys, because I fucking can’t!” Jackson cries, his entire body shaking with grief. “Please!”

  Catalina looks at me with tears streaming past her cheeks, and I bite my lip as tears of my own threaten to fall. Using hand gestures, we silently agree to back away from the caskets and find our seats, but as we try to move Jax’s wheelchair his hands reach out to the shiny casket housing Chris’s body.

  “No! I need to beg for forgiveness. It was me who needed to die out there that day, not them, Jupiter! It was me who didn’t deserve to live. They need to hear me out, they need to forgive me!”

  I kneel before him and place my hands over his knees. “Listen to me, brother. You can’t do this to yourself,” I command, using my shoulders to dry the tears that fall from my eyes. “You are alive for a reason, Jax. You can’t torture yourself because you lived and they didn’t. You survived and you are here for a reason, and I will not let you do this to yourself. You can cry, get upset, and even be mad at me, but none of this was your fault, do you understand me?”

  Jax tries to brush me away, but I raise my hands from his knees to cup his cheeks and look into his bloodshot eyes. “You are alive, and we love you, and we will get through this, understood? Please stop beating yourself up over it,” I desperately plead.

  Jax nods slowly as tears continue to trickle down his face, landing on his shirt and tie. Catalina slowly pushes the chair away from where the guys rest. As we work our way back to our seats, Chris’s and Rem’s parents come over to Jax, and crouch to hug him. In the silence of the church all I can hear are his never-ending cries for forgiveness, and while he bears no fault I couldn’t possibly fathom reacting differently if I were the one in Jax’s shoes.

  Jackson was supposed to read a eulogy in honor of his dearly departed friends, but given his fragile state Catalina rises to stand in his place and walks towards the pulpit with purposeful strides. She grabs a guitar from the choir bench and brings it with her to the pulpit. After adjusting the microphone to her height, she fiddles with the guitar tuning the strings. Once satisfied, she speaks into the microphone.

  “I didn’t know Chris and Rem like Jackson Reese and Stryder Martynus did, but I met them once in Port De Soleil when Jackson won the World Snowboarding Championship. While our encounter was short-lived, I knew the moment I met them they were special men. Friends of my best friend, and while their bodies are no longer with us, their spirit remains within each of us. We’ll feel them on the slopes riding alongside us, and when the time is right, we will all meet again. I’m not a woman of many words so I will let this song do all the talking. On behalf of Jackson Reese, Chris and Rem, this one is for you both,” she says as her fingers begin playing the opening chords of Skylar Grey’s “I Will Return.”

  I touch Jackson’s shoulder and pull him close, as Catalina’s voice echoes through the walls of the church leaving everyone a teary mess. When she returns to our pew I hear Jax whisper his appreciation and commend her for words and song.

  As we sit there during the rest of the funeral service and later at the burial, I can’t help but feel gratitude to God for sparing Jackson’s life. Through the emotional events of the day, Catalina focuses all of her attention on Jax and I couldn’t be more thankful. She was brought into our lives for a special purpose, and she is a prime example of the fact that life indeed moves on, even after loss, and if I’ve learned anything from her, it’s that hope is something you can achieve if you only believe.

  The few weeks that follow the funeral are the hardest on Jax, and I’m glad we’ve spent every waking moment with him, but it’s almost time for me to leave the love of my life and my best friend behind. Catalina has been working endlessly with Jax, taking him to his physical therapy and psychologist appointments. So far he’s shown some improvement in his mobility; however his mind is taking a lot longer to recover than his limbs.

  Back at Jackson’s ranch, we try to move on from the pain of the accident. All of our moods are affected mainly because Jax is sunken in a depression that is messing with all of our moods. Catalina and I are trying to be patient, and we’re working with him to get his life back on track. Despite having two broken ankles, Jax is determined to move around, and his mood while hostile, is a reflection of how he feels on the inside.

  Leaving Catalina asleep upstairs after a long and exhausting day at the medical center with Jax, I run downstairs to work from his office. As I’m walking through the kitchen, I see him drinking vodka straight from the bottle with a pill bottle in front of him. I halt in my steps horrified.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I roar, in complete disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re doing this shit again!”

  “Don’t just stand there and patronize me, asshole. You don’t know how much it fucking hurts, Jupiter. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up each day and have the death of two of your friends over your motherfucking head. Do not judge me, you son of a bitch!” Jackson screams, as tears roll down his face. “Don’t you fucking dare!” he cries, slamming his hands flat against the countertop.

  My heart aches for Jax. A part of me wants to punch him in the face because clinging to a bottle hasn’t done him any favors in the past. And while I understand his pain, I can’t look the other way. I storm towards him, and rip the bottle away from his hands, and empty its contents in the sink.

  “I will not let you do this to yourself. I will not sit idle and let you grieve like this. You want to cry? Cry! You want to scream? Then fucking scream! But this bullshit drinking will not happen again. I don’t give three shits if this pisses you off, but I will not let you fall again!” I yell, as tears blotch my face. “You’re not the only one who lost friends that day! I lost them too, but you don’t see me hitting the goddamn bottle and drowning my sorrow with fucking vodka. This is your life and you’re wasting it!”<
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  Catalina runs into the kitchen barefoot in just her nightgown. “Guys, what’s going on?!”

  I lift the bottle from the sink and wave it in the air. “This shithead thinks it’s okay to mix pills and booze!” I answer absolutely enraged.

  Catalina inhales loudly and walks towards the counter where Jackson is sitting. Crouching down, she looks into his eyes. “Babe, you can’t do this,” she whispers. “Death is a traitorous bitch, and you’ve done so well with your sobriety. Now is not the time to seek comfort with booze, and you know it.”

  Jackson reaches for Catalina’s face, and brings his head to rest against hers. “I’m sorry, Cat.,” he cries. “It just fucking hurts. I can’t breathe.”

  “I know, baby. I know,” she says holding onto him.

  I watch them in silence. My anger-fueled state dissipates and is quickly replaced with sorrow. Jackson is grieving, and drinking booze is only way he knows how to cope with Chris’s and Rem’s deaths. Catalina coaxes him back into his room so I take advantage of this opportunity to raid the entire house, searching for liquor bottles, and disposing of them. After my clean-up, I fill two black, lawn bags with almost three cases of liquor and beer combined. As I walk towards the trash bins, I shake my head in disbelief, and pray I got every single drop of alcohol out of the house.

  At this point I have no choice. I have to tell Kathy. I dial her number, and she answers on the second ring.

  “Jupiter?” she says alarmed.

  “Kathy . . . The death of our friends has caused a major setback in Jackson’s sobriety. I did a sweep of the house after I found him drinking his meds with vodka.”

  Kathy sighs. “Oh, this child is going to be the end of me. You don’t suppose he’s abusing his medicines too?”

  “I don’t know, but I think you need to alert his medical team. He might be trying to substitute one fix for another.”

  “Okay,” she sighs, resigned. “Thank you for alerting me. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve never understood his need for drinking. Let me give them a call, and talk to the doctors about it.”

  “No problem. I’m sorry. We’ll keep an eye on him.” I end the call.

  A part of me wants to stay because belligerent Jax is back, and while Cat and Kaelan seem to be managing him well despite his anger-fueled state, I know my presence soothes them all.

  Catalina has urged me not to turn down work, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I miss working despite finding love with her. I’ve agreed to photograph a string of surfing competitions in Australia, and it will be a month-long tour. My chest tightens at the thought that I won’t be by Catalina’s side.

  It’s late, and while Catalina is sleeping in our warm bed, I’m catching up on emails in Jax’s office. I sit, pensive, in front of my laptop looking at the inbox full of unanswered emails with different job offers which could easily keep me busy for the next six months. I’ve struggled with thoughts of declining all work. I mean, that’s all I’ve done for the past seven years . . . travel, come home, and do it all over again, and again.

  And for the first time in years, I have something to fight for, and someone waiting for me to come home. A part of me wants to give myself an opportunity to live life differently−to love like I’ve never known how. And then there’s the pressing urge to take our relationship to the next level. The pessimistic side of me thinks she’ll freak out with a proposal and run, so maybe diving back into work will dull that urge. It’s better that, than to sit here and wonder if she’s content with what little we have, and whether or not she’s ready to trust me with the rest of her heart.

  I slam the cover of my laptop shut. It’s half past midnight and regardless of the time, I need to speak with the only woman who knows exactly what to say when I feel lost. I forego the worries of time zones and manners, and dial her number. On the third ring, a very groggy voice answers.

  “Jupiter? Baby, are you okay?”

  “Mom. Hi. Sorry for calling so late. I didn’t mean to wake you . . .” I reply sheepishly, my free hand squeezing the back of my neck.

  Mom yawns over the line and replies, “Don’t worry, Tesoro. What’s troubling you so late at night?”

  I take a deep breath and pray Mom withholds all teasing until we end this chat. “How did you know Dad was, you know . . . the one?”

  Mom answers with a giggle. “Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t. I just let time knock some sense into me until I realized your father was the man for me.” She exhales loudly and asks, “Why are you in such deep thought at this time of night?”

  “I don’t know, ‘ma. I’m just scared of fucking up my chances with Catalina,” I admit as I rise from the chair and pace aimlessly in Jackson’s office. “I mean, the press tour is over, and we’ve dealt with some adversity since Jax’s accident, but eventually we’ll get back to our lives, and she has her job and I have mine . . . I have a lot of job offers to work abroad, and I’m scared of history repeating itself. Look what happened the last time I was in a relationship . . . Olivia cheated because I was never here.”

  “Stryder Martynus, I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t know Catalina all that well, but she’s not fickle, and she’s not anything remotely similar to your ex. Trust me when I tell you I felt immense relief when you broke off that engagement. I love Oli like a daughter, but it’s the truth. On the other hand, Catalina is a sweet girl who I know for a fact loves you very much.”

  “How would you know that, Mom?” I ask, with a smile.

  Mom giggles, and decrees, “A mother knows these things. All it takes is one good look at the two of you to know you belong together. Your father would agree with me on this, you know . . .” Mom pauses to clear her throat. “Sweetheart, do you love her?”

  “Yes, Mom, I do. With all of my heart, but it’s too soon, isn’t it?” I answer, cringing.

  “No, my son, it isn’t. We can’t choose a specific time and place to fall in love. It would make life terribly boring and predictable, don’t you think? I always knew your time would come, and I have to say, as your mother, it makes me happy you’re finally having this conversation with me,” she sniffles.

  “Catalina’s the one, Mom,” I reply without thinking twice.

  “Have you told her that, Tesoro?”

  “From the moment we met, I’ve felt like my heart has been taken from me and started beating inside of her. So yes, I told her recently I love her. It took her some time to say it back. I know when she said it she meant it, but I want so much more,” I confess, the last few words coming out a little strangled as the knot in my throat starts to loosen up.

  “You don’t tell her, Jupiter. You show her with actions that you are worthy of her. Think of it as a Paso Doble. She is your bull and you are the Matador. At first she will be feisty and try to fight you, but you can’t give into your fears or insecurities. You need to remain firm, well-grounded with your feelings towards her. Us women . . . we like to test our men. We want our guys to fight for us, because it shows us how much they love us. Why we do this, I’ll never know, but with time she’ll realize she won’t have any excuses to throw at you and she’ll give into you. As your mother, I ask you to trust me on this,” Mom explains, with a click of her tongue.

  I chuckle at Mom’s never-ending supply of dancing analogies. “Mom, what do I do about my assignments? I don’t want to be away from her.”

  Mom sighs and replies, “Only you can make that decision, Jupiter. I can’t tell you what to do because this is your career, but if I could give you a piece of advice, it would be to take a short assignment. Put some space between you and Catalina. It will give you both time to think about your feelings for each other, and it will give her the opportunity to miss you. Remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder, or so the saying goes.”

  I stop pacing and stand still for a minute, considering Mom’s words. As they sink in, I can’t help but come to terms with the fact that she is right on all accounts.

  “Stryder, are you still there
?”

  “I’m here, Mom. I was thinking, and you know what? You’re right. I need to sort out the mess in my heart before I can move forward. Distance isn’t such a bad thing . . . This will be our first test,” I say with smile. “Mom, you always know the right thing to say.”

  Mom laughs again. “That’s why I’m your mother, Stryder. Take your time with Catalina and don’t rush things. Treat her like the princess she is. Love her without restraint, and offer your heart without fear. It will all work out in the end. She is the arrow to your bow, remember that.”

  I nod and choke back tears. Exhaling raggedly, I whisper into the line, “Mom, I love you. You’re the best. I’m sorry for calling so late. You must be tired. Talk to you soon.”

  “That’s what mammas are for. Ti amo, Jupiter. Now fight for her!”

  I nod once again, and this time I’m feeling good about taking an assignment and letting time do its thing. Yeah, I’ll miss Catalina terribly, but given we’ve been joined at the hip since Whistler this could be healthy for our relationship.

  Turning off the lamp in Jackson’s office, I return to our room. Catalina is fast asleep on the bed, her gorgeous hair fanned against the pillow, with her arm stretched out on my side of the bed. I lean against the doorjamb and take the vision in. I can’t believe after living carelessly for so long, I’ve been rewarded with Catalina’s love. I want more, but for now I need to be patient. If Catalina has taught me anything, it’s this.

  Walking towards the bed, I undress, leaving a trail of clothes in my wake. Fully undressed, I slip under the covers and reach for my girl. God, she’s so warm to the touch, and her soft silken skin begs to be kissed. Catalina’s soft breathing makes me smile. Although I want to wake her up and make love to her, I just lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, enjoying this perfect moment. When the timing is right, I will make this woman my wife.

  “HELLO, JACKSON. MY NAME IS Dr. Badcocke, and I will be your physical therapist. How are you feeling today?” the doctor asks, as he looks over Jackson’s chart.