The Year We Fell Down (28 page)

He came in anyway, and my brother tensed, looking just on the verge of telling him off. “Callahan,” Hartley said quietly. “I need a few minutes with Callahan.”

With an ornery grunt, Damien got up and went into the common room. I heard the TV come on as Hartley dropped a gym bag on the floor in front of me. “Can I walk you to the gym?”

“I don’t think I’m going,” I whispered.

“Well, I think you should,” Hartley said, sitting down on the bed. He put his arms around me, and I let him pull me in. I buried my nose in his shoulder and inhaled. “The others are waiting for you. Even if it is January fifteenth. It’s a shit shoveling kind of day.”

“Don’t I know it,” I murmured into his chest. His arms circled tighter, and we just sat there for a minute holding each other. I could really get used to this.

“There’s something I’ve been working on, and I wonder what you’ll think.” He leaned over, pulling an envelope out of his gym bag. He unfolded a single piece of paper, handing it to me.

It was a letter, addressed to a Hollywood name I’d known for years.

Dear Mr. Kellers,

I don’t have any idea what you’ll choose to do with this letter, but I know I had to write it. For too many years I’ve tried to pretend that it doesn’t bother me that we haven’t ever met, or that you would rather not say my name out loud. But now I realize how many choices I’ve made hoping that you’d approve. I’m a junior at Harkness College. I got into this school without listing your name on the legacy part of my application. I’m a hockey player. My grades are decent and I’m majoring in political science.

I’ve had a tough year, including an injury that kept me away from my sport. With a lot of extra time on my hands, I’ve had to slow down and figure out what’s really important. And I realized that the weight of your rejection is something I’ve been dragging around for my whole life.

Sir, I think you should meet me. I’m not going to ask you for money or even a public acknowledgment that I’m your son. I can’t force you to look me in the eye, but I can raise my hand and let you know that it matters to me. I’m asking now so I can stop wondering whether or not you would have said yes.

Sincerely,

Adam Kellers Hartley

I looked up at him, blowing out a breath. “Wow. Your middle name is his last name?”

He nodded. “Would you send this, if you were me?”

“I would, Hartley. It’s a brave thing to do.”

“Meeting him wouldn’t be easy.”

I shook my head. “That’s not why it’s brave, and I think you know that. The harder thing will be if he doesn’t answer. If he lets you just twist in the wind.”

Hartley flopped back on my bed. “Yeah. But I’m sick of wondering. I want to make my peace with the question.”

I put my hand down on his shapely stomach. “Then mail it. It’s a good letter.”

He caught my hand, his thumb stroking my palm. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll mail the letter on the way to water polo.”

I squirmed. “See, it was nice there for a minute, talking about your problems instead of mine. Will you think I’m a wimp if I don’t go to the game?”

“There is
nothing
you could do to make me think you’re a wimp.” He sat up and brought my palm to his lips. “But I still want you to go.”

“Can’t I just wallow? Just once?”

“Wallow tomorrow. Water polo first.”

“Why?”

He grinned. “Because I told Daniel I’d play goalie. And I’d really like you to witness my greatness.”

“You did? Just because of my funk?” I couldn’t help but smile. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if you jam your leg?”

“Don’t baby me, Callahan.” His dimple made an appearance.

I kissed him on the nose. “You are a manipulative, evil boy.”

“I’ve been called worse. So where do you keep your bikinis?”

I shook my head. “We’re going to have to forfeit anyway. Even if I show up.”

“Not true! I convinced Dana and Bridger to play too. I told them you shouldn’t be alone today, that you need your friends around you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Really? And they’re going? Even Dana?”

“I think she has a thing for Daniel,” Hartley’s smile grew. “But she
said
she’s doing it for you.”

I giggled. Suddenly, living my new life seemed more important than mourning my old one. I wanted to watch Hartley’s mostly naked body floating around in an inner tube, defending the goal. And I wanted to see Dana try to maintain her bravado with a ball flying at her. “Hartley, get lost for five minutes. I’ll change into a suit.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll get your towel,” he said, untangling himself from me and walking out.

After he shut the door, I slipped down onto the floor and crawled over to my dresser, because it was a heck of a lot faster than putting the braces on. I crawl better now, thanks to Pat’s diligence. But removing my jeans requires me to roll from one hip onto the other, like a flopping fish.

It’s very sexy.

Not
.

—
Hartley

Corey’s brother was staring at the television, doing his best to ignore me. I sat down beside him anyway.

I understood that he was struggling, but there was no way I was going to feel guilty for being with Corey. Just the opposite — I was pretty damned proud of myself. Also, I felt lighter. Telling Corey my whole freakish family story was such a load off my mind.

“What’s she doing in there?” Damien asked without looking at me.

“Changing into her bathing suit.”

He turned his head. “Really? You talked her into going?”

“Yeah.” I tried not to sound smug, but I might have. Just a little.

He shut the TV off and then turned his body toward me. There was some aggression in it, but I knew it was just for show.

“My sister, huh?” He scraped his face. “Damn. At least it’s not Bridger.”

“Dude, please.” I had a pang of guilt for throwing my best friend under the bus like that, but Damien had a point. He might not like the idea of me getting naked with his sister, but love ‘em and leave ‘em wasn’t my style.

“You know what, though? She was all kinds of bummed out over the holidays. And I think that’s on you.”

Okay,
ouch
. But making Corey sad was never my intention. And to be fair, she never said so. Not until later. “We had some things to work through. It took me a while to figure it all out.”

“I’m just saying, I know where you live.”

And there it was — the threat. Fine. “You know, I don’t have a little sister. Actually, that’s not right. I have one, but I’ve never met her.” Look at me spilling my guts everywhere today! Next thing you know, I was going to be telling my life story on daytime TV. “So I don’t know exactly where you’re coming from. But that’s okay, because Corey is important to me.”

He gave me a blue-eyed glare which reminded me of Corey’s. “Just treat her right.”

“I plan to. Hey, you know what? I covered for you.”

“How do you mean?”

“She asked me if her brother was a total dog, and I told her that you weren’t so bad.”

His face broke into a very slow smile. “But what does it matter whether I was a total dog? As long as she’s not
with
a total dog.”

“Double standard, much?”

Damien showed me his middle finger, and then Corey opened her bedroom door. “Um, guys?”

I jumped up off the couch and shoved Corey’s towel into my gym bag. Then I brought her ID over, looping it over her neck.

“Hartley?” she put her hands on my chest. “Thank you.”

Well, that made me feel like a million bucks. So, Damien be damned, I kissed her right on the lips. Then I tucked my letter back inside its envelope, licked the flap and sealed it shut. “Let’s do this thing.” I opened Corey’s door and waited while Damien put on his jacket to come with us. “You know,” I said to him, “I could lend you a suit, if you want to play. You are a Beaumonter, after all.”

“He can’t play!” Corey protested. “Alums aren’t allowed. I don’t want our win to be disqualified.”

At that, I had to throw my head back and laugh. “Jesus, Callahan. I forgot who I was dealing with.” As Corey crutched past me, I leaned down to drop another kiss onto her head.

Even Damien grinned, and I saw his attitude toward me melt by one or two degrees. “The Callahans play to win,” he said. “Lead on, you two. Show me how this is done.”

So we did.

Chapter Twenty Three:
Later is Better Than Never

—
Corey, Three Months Later

Hartley and I sat together on the couch. It was a Saturday afternoon in April, just after brunch. I was trying to stay absorbed in my copy of Shakespeare’s
Julius Caesar
, but Hartley pulled me onto his lap, sweeping my hair off my shoulder. He kissed the place where the hair had just been.

“I can’t read Shakespeare with your lips on my neck,” I complained.

“So don’t read it,” he mumbled. He leaned me back against his chest, and I felt his firm body shift suggestively beneath me. “That play is 400 years old. It can wait another half an hour. We could just…mmm,” he said, his hands sliding down my ribcage and hips, cupping my bottom.

I closed the book, tossed it onto the coffee table and spun around to kiss him.

“Oh, yes please,” he said against my lips. His hands fumbled for my shirt.

“Sorry to give you the wrong idea,” I said, capturing his hands in mine. “But I have to leave. I have a haircut appointment. And you have errands, too.”

He gave a little growl and pulled me closer. “I like your hair long.”

“Hartley,” I laughed. “I need a trim. Badly. And so you need to wait a few hours, okay? After the Beaumont Ball, I’m all yours.”

He flopped his head back against the sofa and sighed. “That sounds like a long few hours. Is this a ploy to skip the ball? Because it won’t work.”

I reached up to brush my hand against his chin, enjoying the feel of his lazy Saturday whiskers under my fingers. “No way,” I promised. “I went to the trouble of shopping for a dress, which is my least favorite activity in the world. You can bet I’ll put it on.” Sliding off his lap, I retrieved my crutches from the floor and stood up.

He rose to kiss me goodbye. “You are the perfect girl,” he said against my lips. “You’re hot, but you hate to shop. That dress is gonna look great.
On my floor
.” I laughed, and he smoothed my hair down over my shoulders. “I really do like it long. I wasn’t just saying that.”

“Me too. But chlorine has burnt the ends, and I’m getting a trim. See you later?” I kissed him one more time.

“Later…” he said, sitting back down on the couch, “is better than never.”

“That’s the spirit.” I put my pocketbook straps over both shoulders, opened the door and crutched out into the hallway.

After pulling the door shut behind me, I turned around. A man stood in front of Hartley’s door, as if he had just knocked, and was waiting for a response. “Excuse me,” I said. “Are you looking for…?” He turned to face me, and I sucked in my breath.

Because Hartley really did look a lot like his father.

It took me a minute to speak. I was too busy taking in the height of him, and the brown, wavy hair. He had the same full mouth as his son, and the same well-proportioned nose. Only the eyes were truly different. This man’s were blue, and not nearly as warm as Hartley’s.

“Do you know where he is?” the stranger asked, his voice quiet.

I nodded, finding my voice again. “Just one second. Don’t go anywhere.”

As I opened the door to my room again, crutching back inside, Hartley said, “Did you miss me already, beautiful?” Then he saw my face. “What’s the matter?”

Closing the door behind me, I leaned over the couch, whispering. “Your father is standing in the hallway.”

His eyes went wide with shock. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Hartley jumped off the couch. “Shit. Right now?”

“Did you get a response to your letter?”

He shook his head.

“Wow. So this is it?”

He shrugged, his eyes still wide.

“Maybe it’s easier this way, not having to think about it first.”

He let out a gust of air. Then he looked down at himself, doing a quick inventory. He was wearing jeans and a Red Sox T-shirt, and bright orange sneakers.

“You are
great
, Hartley,” I whispered. “And unless you tell me not to, I’m going to open this door now. You can talk to him in here, okay?”

Hartley glanced around my room as if seeing it for the first time. Then he nodded again. I don’t know if he was doing the same math that I was — Hartley’s unmade bed would be a more awkward meeting place than my little common room. I watched him take a deep breath. I turned the knob, and Hartley swung it wide open for me. I whispered into his ear, “I love you so much.” I turned to walk out, but Hartley grabbed my hand. And even as his father turned to watch us, he pressed a kiss to my forehead before letting me go.