AFTER THE LAST CUSTOMER of the night headed out, Nick sat on one of the bar stools with an untouched bottle of Grey Goose on his right and a water bottle directly in front of him—along with the digital recorder Jenn had left. Wiped clean of everything but one selection, it held a recording of Jenn. Reading her paper.
She’d begun by explaining the complex process of diagnosing dyslexia and described how studies have shown it to be common in families. How she’d begun working with her “case study” only to find that while there were some similarities between symptoms of dyslexia and Irlen Syndrome, her case had no problems with directional instructions such as left, right, up or down as dyslexics often do. They didn’t transpose their words when they were tired or stressed, but they often got severe headaches when they read. The list of comparisons and contrasts went on and on.
In her smooth, sweet voice Jenn quoted statistics, her research, how her case could have been another example of failure instead of a generational success had it not been for the father’s determination that his son would not be doomed to the stigma associated with poor learning ability based on poor reading skills.
With every word she spoke, Nick heard love, support and her pride in all they’d accomplished over the summer. And his heart broke because despite the title and her reasons for using him in her paper, she’d made him out to be a hero. The paper was factual and statistic-heavy, but it gave genuine hope to the listener that despite the odds and his age, Jenn’s case was able to receive help and could now read fluently after an amazingly short period of time. According to Jenn, he was a hero through and through.
“I thought I might find you here. She’s gone, huh?”
Garret settled himself on the stool beside Nick. Someone bumped into him from the other side and he turned to find Ethan smirking. “What are you two doing here? How’d you get in?”
“You’re not the only night owl around here,” his uncle said from behind.
Nick turned and found his father walking up slowly beside his brother. “Hey, Uncle C., how’s the hip?”
“Just a bruise. Enough to make me feel old, though.”
His father and uncle made themselves comfortable at the closest table. Nick leaned his back against the bar, waiting for the wave of awkwardness to hit as it always did whenever he had to face his family. Seconds passed but it didn’t happen. Not all of it, anyway. “What’s going on?”
“The women are all still over at Garret’s fussing over the perfect placement of wedding presents, hanging curtains and the like. Poor Matt’s stuck right in the middle of it, but he still wanted to stay because of the food. We thought we’d come keep you company while you closed up.”
Nick made note of his father’s anxious expression, as if he was afraid Nick would take off—as he normally did when the family gathered together. He wasn’t in the mood for this, but where would he go? As with the nights Matt had spent in the hospital, Nick didn’t want to go home alone.
“Wanna play some Texas Hold ’Em?” Uncle C. asked with an optimistic grin. “Come on, boys, let’s have some fun.”
His brothers got up and joined the older men at the table.
“Nick?” His father watched him closely. “You’re not playing?”
“Not tonight.”
“That girl’s got you pinin’ for her, huh?” Uncle Cyrus scratched his balding head. “You should’ve gone with her.” A frown formed on his face. “I keep tellin’ you that you need to take one of those trips. Why don’t you ever go anywhere? You’d like it. Me and Dorothy love going on those all-inclusive trips.”
“I haven’t gone because…I couldn’t read.” He blurted it out all at once, as surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth as the men in his family were to hear them. He cleared his throat, looked away, and then focused on his father, noticing he was the color of a dirty gray mop. “That’s why I dropped out. I couldn’t read.”
A quick, sweeping glance of the others showed him Garret’s mouth gaping open.
Realizing it, Garret quickly shut his trap and shook his head. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t know why I couldn’t do what I was supposed to do. I tried. Studied. I didn’t want to admit I felt too stupid to learn.”
“You’re not stupid,” his father growled angrily.
“One of the smartest men I know,” Uncle Cyrus added. “Boy, you’ve got a business mind like no one I’ve ever known.”
Ethan frowned. “So are you saying you’re dyslexic?”
His father’s fist hit the table and he looked sick to his stomach. “How did you find out?”
“Jennifer Rose,” Ethan murmured. “She’s got something to do with this, doesn’t she?”
Nick nodded.
“That’s what she’s been doing this summer? I thought there was something serious going on between the two of you?”
“There is,” his father told them all. “Nick told me it was serious.”
“When was this?”
“At the ball game.”
“Matt’s playing ball with a broken leg?”
“Just hanging out with his team. And we were serious,” Nick corrected. “But last night I told Jenn it was…over.”
A roar of outrage blasted through the restaurant.
“Darcy’s not going to believe this.”
“I thought you loved Jenn?”
“You told me to stay away from her.” Ethan glared at him for that one.
“That girl would be a mighty fine catch.” Uncle Cyrus wiped a hand over his nose. “You sure you wanna call things off?”
He focused on his uncle’s first comment and ignored the rest. “Jenn is a good woman.”
“Then why break up?” Garret asked.
Nick turned away, grabbed his bottle of water and walked over to the jukebox. “Jenn wrote a paper for her human-development class at the university. It was about learning and relationships and how they tie together.”
“And she used you in it,” Garret deduced. “You didn’t know?”
He shrugged. “I knew she was going to write about the research she’d done, trying to figure out what was wrong with me and Matt, but…”
“Something’s wrong with Matt?” His father shoved himself to his feet. “Nick, why didn’t you tell us?”
“He’s fine. He had some trouble in school, but Jenn’s got him up to speed.”
“But you two have the same problem,” Ethan pressed. “Is that what you’re getting at?”
Nick dug deep for patience. “Yeah. Something called Irlen Syndrome.” He explained what he knew about it and told them how the colored plastic sheets helped.
“So now you can read? The words make sense because of a piece of plastic?” Ethan shook his head, the doctor in him clearly skeptical.
“Yeah. Jenn…” Just saying her name made him miss her even more. “She said that since I listened to so many books on tape and worked in a business setting, my reading skills had developed anyway, compared to someone who dropped out and just stopped trying to cope.”
“’Course they did,” Uncle Cyrus said.
Nick’s father moved over to where he stood and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nick. I was so busy yelling at you to do better, I didn’t think to stop and ask why you weren’t.”
“You were frustrated. Just like I was with Matt.”
He squeezed Nick’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son.” Hesitating a brief moment, he pulled Nick into his arms and pounded him on the back, tears choking his words. “I’m proud of you. You didn’t…You didn’t behave like I did.”
When his father let him go, Nick turned to face the rest of the group. “The reason I’m telling you this is because everybody is going to know once the paper makes the rounds. It probably won’t take long for people to figure out that Matt and I were her guinea pigs.”
“That’s why you broke up with her?” Uncle Cyrus asked. “You need a thicker skin, son.”
“Did she use your names?”
It figured that as an attorney Garret would be concerned with something like that. “No. She refers to us as the ‘case subject’ and the ‘subject’s son,’ but everyone will know since they’ve seen us together all summer. She had no right to make a private matter public. Matt’s going to be embarrassed.”
“Matt—or you?” His uncle studied him, his gaze shrewd.
“No father wants his son to think less of him,” his father murmured. “I understand that.”
The weight on Nick’s shoulders grew heavy. “It’ll be like before. Which is why I…thought I should warn you before you heard it from someone else.”
With an arm around Nick’s shoulders, Alan Tulane turned to face the others. “But this time isn’t the same, is it, boys?”
His uncle and brothers shook their heads in unison and Nick felt that he might just lose it.
“We’ve got your back, Nick—don’t worry about it. I’m glad you finally told us.” Garret sat forward in his chair. “But what happens now? When are you going to call and make up with Jenn? I have to know, because that’ll be the first question Darcy will ask me when I tell her the news.”
“Your mother, too. Do you love her, son?”
Nick didn’t have to think about that question for long. Despite his anger, he missed her and he wanted her. “I couldn’t see straight last night.”
“And today?”
He wiped a hand over his face. “Yeah, I love her. She has a boatload of baggage left over from her marriage to Dixon and from her family. She doesn’t feel…worthy. But I know deep down she wanted to help other people like me. Jenn’s like that.”
“But what if she does something like this again?” Ethan asked him. “What then? You were mad at us for years. Are you saying you can forgive her just like that?”
Garret silenced Ethan with a glare. “You’d know something about relationships, if you ever kept a woman around long enough to have one.”
“Boys.”
Nick smiled grimly. “I don’t think Jenn would ever do something like this again. Not after my reaction yesterday.”
“So you have forgiven her?”
Had he? Looking at the male members of his family, Nick knew it was true. He had, because he couldn’t imagine life without them—or her. Forgiveness was a process, a decision. One he’d made the moment the recording had ended. “Yeah, but I can’t say what I need to say over the phone, and she’s in the Caribbean for the next two weeks.”
“So go to her,” Uncle Cyrus ordered. “What’re you waitin’ for?”
“We’ll take care of Matt. No worries there, son.”
“It hasn’t been that long since I supervised the garage,” his uncle added. “Might be fun to be in the old stomping grounds.”
“And Garret and I can keep an eye on the gym and help Uncle C. out here.”
He was humbled by their immediate acceptance of him after so many years of distance. But wasn’t that what they’d been trying to do all along? Get him to come back into the fold? “It won’t work. I don’t have a passport, and it takes at least three weeks to get an emergency one issued.”
That stumped the lot of them.
Then Uncle Cyrus snorted. “Maybe you don’t, but you do have a twin who gallivants all over the world. Why not borrow his?”
Garret shook his head with a groan. “As an officer of the court, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I don’t think breaking the law for love is an admissible defense.”
“What time is it in California?” Ethan asked, taking out his cell phone. He pressed a couple of buttons and held the phone to his ear.
They wanted him to use Luke’s passport?
Nick and his father walked over to where the others were sitting.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Garret muttered. “Just call her. She’ll come home.”
“I don’t want her to come home. She needs this trip.”
“He said he needs to talk to her in person, and using Luke’s passport is the quickest way of getting him where he needs to be,” Uncle Cyrus argued.
Nick tugged at his ear. “I’m not sure it’ll work anyway. I don’t know how to maneuver the airports. I can’t go around holding up a piece of blue plastic everywhere. People will think I’m nuts.”
Garret shot Ethan a baleful glare and stood up. “I have nothing to do with that,” he said, jerking his head toward Ethan. “But I can help with the other problem. You got one of those plastic things on you?”
“Luke?” Ethan grinned. “You busy? No? Good. Have you ever been to the Caribbean?”