His mother and sisters nodded, slow and solemn, as if Nonna had just recited the keys to a long life and they were part of her inner council.
Chase dropped the panini bag on the kitchen counter and searched for the key to survive the next half hour. “Had I known you would all be here, I would’ve ordered more food.”
“Now that you’re here, you can call the newspaper and demand a retraction for reporting false and harmful stories.” His mother wrapped burlap around a large round wreath frame, quickly and efficiently covering the green foam. The same way she’d raised three kids on her own: organized, controlled and tender. Her gaze settled on him. “After all, the mother of the supposed groom should know about her only son’s wedding before some unknown reporter.”
Chase took off his suit jacket, folded it over a kitchen stool. Guilt clung to him. He’d never wanted to disappoint his mom. Ever. If he lost his football career, he couldn’t provide for his family and give back through his foundation. Without football, what would he give, but more disappointment?
“What about me?” Ivy waved her hand from her seat at the table. Her mouth, usually set in a wide, open smile that revitalized the most dreary room, flatlined into an unwelcoming grimace. “I only run your nonprofit. I have access to your full financials and tax records. Yet I wasn’t even told you had a fiancée.”
Ivy’s words sliced at him. She’d expanded his foundation and grown its impact in the city and surrounding communities. She was business minded and career oriented. Were those tears pooling in her eyes? Ivy never cried, never allowed anyone to see a weakness. Chase loosened his tie.
“What about me?” Mallory cut in.
Her words stopped Chase from handing Ivy a tissue. No doubt, Ivy would resent him all the more for pointing out her tears.
Mallory pinned a silk flower behind her ear, the baby blue color enhanced the spark of victory in her perceptive gaze. She’d already suspected foul play. “I know his full medical history. I should’ve been told too.”
And that ended Mallory’s case. She wouldn’t believe Chase had kept such big news from her. Mallory and Chase had shared too much over the years. Chase released the button on the collar of his dress shirt. If he continued, Mallory would leave Nonna’s apartment bewildered and betrayed. If he exposed the plan, his family most likely wouldn’t understand or approve. If they spoke to the press, they could accidentally ruin everything.
“A reporter called my house, Chase.” His mother walked to him and gripped his hands. She owned every inch of her petite stature and her regal stance alone demanded obedience. “She wanted a comment about my son’s nuptials.”
His sisters scowled at him. But his mom’s dismay and outrage diluted the silence.
“My only son gets married and I wasn’t even invited.” His mother dropped his hands like a spider’s nest and sagged into the chair beside Nonna.
Chase yanked off his tie. When had his family become champions of marriage? His mother had never remarried. Rarely dated in the two decades since her divorce. Ivy and Mallory put their careers first, the same as Chase. Marriage wasn’t supposed to be this big of a deal.
Nonna patted his mother’s forearm and peered over the rims of her glasses at him. “This family does not work that way, Chase Baron Jacobs.”
Chase winced. The hurt on her face fused the guilt deep inside him. His throat tightened around his confession. One admission would end all of this. But the disappointment would no doubt remain for his latest foolish stunt.
“Maybe he’s taken too many hits.” Ivy sorted silk butterflies by color on the table and avoided looking at him. “Concussion damage is very real.”
Mallory tipped her head, her gaze narrowed. He already knew she was making a mental note to order an MRI on his brain.
“You dismissed your family as if we mean nothing to you. You refuse to request a retraction.” His mother’s voice was as empty and stark as the wreath frame she clutched. “What’s happened to my son?”
He hadn’t really excluded his family. That truth hardly eased his torment.
“Because marriage and you, Chase...” His mother’s voice faded away.
Her apprehension landed like a boulder in one of Nonna’s ceramic birdbaths. Chase recoiled. He’d supposedly gotten married, not sentenced to jail. First, he’d upset them for disregarding the sanctity of marriage. Now his own mom refused to believe he could even be married. As if marriage and Chase repelled each other. “Would it be so bad if I was married?”
“Marriage isn’t a joke, Chase.” His mother stood, set her hands on her hips and stared him down. “Marriage is definitely not something you do on a whim or because it sounds fun in the moment.”
He paced away, avoiding the crafting table and the jury seated there. He chose not to commit to a relationship. That hardly meant he couldn’t commit. But if he committed to football and to a relationship, then one was certain to suffer. His own father had struggled to remain committed to his marriage and his career. And his family had paid the price. Chase kept his focus on football and avoided the collateral damage of bruised feelings, crushed expectations and damaged hearts, including his own. And that occasional twinge of loneliness he simply stomped beneath his cleats. “I know exactly what marriage means.”
His mom brushed his words aside. “It’s a commitment that requires hard work, patience and dedication.”
Even then, marriages failed. Yet marriage was clearly important to his mother and sisters. He’d never considered how important until now. Not some simple word to be tossed out like confetti to celebrate a win. An odd, uncomfortable sensation rooted
