JAKE UNDONE
By Penelope Ward
JAKE UNDONE
First Kindle Edition, October 2013
Copyright© 2013 by
Penelope Ward
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced nor used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by RBA Designs. Stock photo © Shutterstock.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE: JAKE
Chapter 1: NINA
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
PART 2: JAKE
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30: NINA
Chapter 31
Chapter 32: JAKE
Chapter 33: NINA
Chapter 34
PROLOGUE
JAKE
She loved to pull on my lip ring. It was her favorite thing to do.
“Ow…that’s a little too hard, baby,” I said. “You’re nothin’ but trouble, you know that?”
She apparently didn’t like that comment because then she scratched me in the face.
“Damn it, girl! Those nails are like claws.”
She pulled my lip again and started laughing this time.
I loved her laugh.
I smiled and shook my head. “That’s it. I’m done with you.”
She laughed even harder, and it was infectious because now I was laughing too.
“You’re so cute. You know I could never be done with you, right?”
I hugged her hard and then lifted her up as the smell of shit wafted through the air.
“Aw, hell, girl. What did your mother feed you this morning?”
My niece started giggling again, as if she understood me. That belly laugh was music to my ears. Holly was only six months, but I swore she understood everything I said. I reached over for a diaper and some wipes and began to unwrap the load.
“Oooh, so whatever you had, it was green. Nice.”
Just then, the phone rang, and I could see from the caller i.d. that it was Alex, one of my engineering study partners. Why the hell was he calling?
I held up my hands. “Stay there, Holly. Don’t move,” I said, grabbing the cordless phone. “Yo.”
“Jake, dude, where the hell are you?”
“I’m home watching my sister’s kid. What’s up?”
“Did you forget Professor Sarma moved the exam to this morning?”
I scratched my head. “No, he didn’t. He moved it to Tuesday.”
“Today is Tuesday.”
The realization that he was right set in. “Oh, crap!”
My sister, Allison, had switched the babysitting day on me this week, and it screwed me all up.
“Fuck!” I yelled into the phone.
“You can still make it here in time if you hurry,” Alex said.
Before I had a chance to respond, I looked over at Holly on the couch and saw that she had managed to touch her ass and get poop all over her fingers.
“Code brown, Alex. I gotta go.” I hung up the phone and rushed over to the baby who was still smiling at me, happier than a pig in shit.
“Okay, sweet pea. That was Uncle Jake’s fault. We are gonna get you clean and then hightail it outta here. I can still make the last half hour of the exam if we hurry.”
Holly squealed in delight amidst the chaos.
I took her over to the sink, holding her with one hand as I used the other to spray her hands and bottom vigorously with the nozzle, adding some dishwashing liquid. That mess was too far gone for baby wipes.
Once cleaned and smelling like Palmolive, I bundled her up and propped her on my chest in the carrier my sister left me, grabbed the diaper bag and ran out the door.
Holly bounced up and down, as I ran down the street to the train station.
We boarded the train, and the looks and reactions I got from the yuppie passengers were typical. I could imagine what they were thinking: Who is this tattooed, pierced bastard wearing all black carrying a little innocent peanut in a baby carrier?
I envisioned Amber Alerts being called into the Boston police. They looked at me as if I was going to friggin’ jump them with this baby on my chest. Those judgmental people always made me laugh, though.
The train suddenly stopped. The conductor announced that there was a small mechanical issue being worked on and that we would be moving in a few minutes.
Ten minutes and one bottle of formula later, the train started moving again.
I had totally screwed today up. If I were lucky, I would catch the professor at the end of the exam and play the sympathy card with Holly in tow.
When we got to Ruggles station, it was pouring out. I grabbed a plastic Walmart bag out of the black tote and put it on top of Holly’s head like a hat, careful not to cover her face.
Running through puddles, we finally made it to the building. When I entered the classroom, it was a ghost town. Professor Sarma was gone. I had missed the entire exam and couldn’t even plead my case.
Fuck.
We made our way back outside, and it was now raining cats and dogs.
Holly was giggling again and started to hiccup.
I adjusted the plastic bag away from her face. “What are you laughing at? Huh?”
I looked up and saw that Holly was staring straight ahead at a girl who was spinning around and dancing in the rain. Everyone else around us was running for cover, but this girl was staring up at the sky, letting the water pour down on her and relishing every moment of it. She certainly didn’t seem to care who was looking at her.
After a few minutes of watching this in amazement, we walked slowly toward her. The closer we got, the more excited Holly became, flailing her arms and legs in the carrier.
She was probably a Northeastern student and looked about seventeen or eighteen, around my age. She was wearing a long flowing skirt that spun around with her and had red curly hair cascading down her back. She was pretty damn cute.
Her eyes were closed now as she lifted her head and opened her mouth to drink some of the falling rain. She didn’t notice me as I stood there taking in the sight of her. She twirled around again reaching her arms out to slap the raindrops.
“Hey,” I finally said.
The girl stopped short, looking startled, opened her eyes and smiled. “Oh…Hey.”
“Do you always dance in the rain like that?”
She glanced down at Holly. “Do you always pick up babies at Walmart?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I’m Jake,” I said holding out my hand.
She didn’t extend hers, but smiled. “Jake, is that your baby?”
“Nah, it’s my niece. She has a twin sister who’s with their grandmother, but this one prefers me, so I take her a couple of mornings a week. We hang so my sister can get stuff done.”
Holly was reaching her fat little hand out, and the girl took it. She smelled like patchouli and whispered something to Holly then stared back at me, but said nothing.
I wasn’t entirely sure why I was still standing there, but there
was something very intriguing about her. A guitar case was lying on the ground a few feet away, and it made me wonder if she played or studied music. I was just enjoying living in the moment with her under the falling rain.
Finally, she looked down at my arms and said, “I like your tattoos. They’re hot.”
“Thanks. You’re pretty hot yourself,” I said.
“You don’t strike me as the babysitting type, Jake.”
“Yeah, well, things aren’t always what they seem on the surface.”
I had no idea back then how prophetic that statement would become…when it came to her.
There was a rumble of thunder in the distance, and she finally cracked a smile. Then, came the three words that would change my life. “Hi, I’m Ivy.”
SIX YEARS LATER
CHAPTER 1
NINA
“Welcome to Brooklyn,” my driver, Reza, said as he helped me out of the yellow cab. He took my bags out of the trunk, and I handed him a tip.
“Thanks. It was nice chatting,” I said before watching him drive away, leaving me alone to face my new life.
I wasn’t quite ready for it to begin, so I stood on the sidewalk staring up at the aging building that was now home as cars on the busy street sped by.
The apartment I’d be living in with three roommates sat atop a Greek restaurant called Eleni’s, and the smell of lemon, garlic and grilling chicken saturated the air outside.
This neighborhood was nothing like the small rural town where I was from, upstate in the Hudson Valley. Seriously, this could be an episode of MTV’s The Real World: Country bumpkin afraid of trains and crowds moves to New York. Let’s chronicle her trials and tribulations and watch in amusement as the big city swallows her up whole and spits her out.
The vibe was different here, and I could immediately tell there would be loads of culture. The area seemed cosmopolitan and small townish at the same time and reminded me of movies like Goodfellas. I got chills because even though it scared the daylights out of me, it had always been my dream to live near Manhattan. Brooklyn was as close as I was gonna get.
It was the middle of the afternoon, so I was pretty sure my roommates, whom I hadn’t even met yet, would be working. I wanted to take the time to get acclimated to the apartment alone, maybe take a bath.
I’d be living with my childhood friend Ryan and two other people: a guy and a girl whose names I didn’t even know. When I was accepted into Long Island University’s nursing program at the Brooklyn campus, I immediately contacted Ryan to see if he could help me find an apartment. It just so happened that one of his roommates had recently moved out, so the timing was perfect.
The steps creaked as I made my way upstairs. The faint sound of a woman swearing when I passed by the second floor made me wonder about the neighbors.
Our apartment was on the third floor, and I struggled with the key before slowly opening the door, which lead right into the main living area.
It was nicer than I had expected. There was a small kitchen off to the left, and everything was open concept. I looked around and noticed how homey the living room was, with a brown suede sectional and a multi-colored, knitted throw on top that looked like someone’s grandmother had made it. There was a brick wall that added character and built-in bookshelves on the other side of the room next to a large window with a reading nook that let in generous sunlight. The apartment smelled like coffee, and there was some leftover in a pot on the kitchen counter. It felt like I was invading someone else’s house. I had to remind myself that this was my home now.
Past the living room, there were two bedrooms on each side of the hallway and a bathroom straight ahead at the end. Ryan told me he would leave my room door open and there was a sticky note on the first door on the left that said “Nina’s Room.” A smiley face was drawn next to my name, which immediately gave me some comfort in an otherwise nerve-wracking situation.
I wheeled my suitcase inside and plopped the duffel bag on the full size bed. The walls were a pale gray, and there were no windows. This room was definitely going to need some sprucing up, and I couldn’t wait to go shopping tomorrow. I was too tired today to deal with redecorating.
I unzipped my suitcase and started to unpack when I suddenly noticed that there seemed to be low music coming from one of the bedrooms. The doors were closed, so I had initially assumed no one was home. I cracked my bedroom door open to listen in and suspected it was coming from the room diagonally across at the far end of the hallway.
Then, I heard a girl’s laugher over the music. Crap. I wasn’t ready to meet anyone. I stayed still, wondering whether I should just hide in my room and pretend I wasn’t here or go across the hall to say hello.
Before I could think it over, I heard a male voice moaning. Then, the girl moaned too.
Shit. They were having sex.
I stayed still, pondering whether I should just quietly sneak out of the house and go shopping now instead of tomorrow. It would be awkward running into them, if they knew I had heard them.
After ten minutes of trying to ignore the bed squeaking amidst “oh yeahs” and “aaahs” from the very vocal female participant, I decided to hightail it out of there.
I was lingering behind the entrance to my room, about to make my exit, when the door across the hall abruptly burst open releasing the sound of metal music and laughter. I froze behind the door, unable to open or close it completely, for fear of being found out. So I stayed still, peeking through the slightly open crack.
All I could see were feet pass by my room, but couldn’t make out faces. The male was tall with dark clothing and the female had a large purple rose tattoo on her ankle.
They were talking and laughing in the living room for a few minutes, and then I heard some keys and a door slam.
The apartment then turned eerily silent. Relieved, I concluded that they had left together.
Thank goodness that was over.
I spent the rest of the afternoon alone in my room unpacking. After my clothes were put away, I meandered out to the kitchen to make some chamomile tea and relax while I got accustomed to my surroundings. As I was pouring the boiling water, I heard the front door latch.
“Neeners!” Ryan shouted as he noticed me in the kitchen.
I placed my tea on the counter and ran over to my old friend, hugging him tightly. “Hey! I made it.”
“You did. How was the ride?” he asked.
“Not bad, just a couple of hours by bus and I took a cab here.”
“A cab? Must have been expensive. You didn’t want to take the subway from the bus station, huh? I figured.”
I looked down at my feet. “No, I’m not there yet. I have to work on that.”
Ryan had known me since I was ten and was best friends with my older brother, Jimmy. As a result, he was like a brother to me too and knew way more than he should about me, not all of it good.
Ryan sighed. “So, we’re still not taking subways, not riding in elevators, not flying. What else are we afraid of these days? Our own shadow?”
“We are working on it, Ry…I told you.”
He shook his head and tapped my shoulder lightly. “It’s only gonna get worse, Nina.”
The truth was, as of the past few years, irrational fears had started to rule my life. I avoided certain situations like the plague and would go to great lengths and inconveniences to do so, like taking a bus instead of flying from New York to Texas to visit my friend in Houston, or taking the stairs instead of the elevator.
Over the years, the situation had gotten progressively worse and was quite paralyzing. It kept me from doing things that I would have loved, like traveling the world. A couple of years ago, at its worst, I had started to develop a full-blown fear of leaving the house. Through cognitive behavioral therapy, I was able to overcome my agoraphobia. So, I had come a long way, but there were still a lot of phobias that remained.
This all started one day with a panic attack in high school. We were on a field trip t
o the New York Public Library, and a few classmates and I got stuck in a dark elevator. I had begun to hyperventilate and thought I was going to die. Fifteen minutes later, the elevator moved, but the post-traumatic stress from that moment stuck. I have gone out of my way ever since to avoid crowds, subways, planes, heights, enclosed spaces or anything else that made me feel trapped.
“How are you going to work in a hospital someday if you can’t ride in an elevator, Nina? Are you gonna tell your dying patients to press five and fend for themselves while you take the stairs?”
“Ry, I’ll have it under control by then, okay? I appreciate your concern, but I have to do things in my own time. For now, I just need to focus on school starting Monday.”
“Okay, I’ll lay off your case…for now.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Much appreciated.”
Ryan looked around and gestured with open arms. “So, how do you like the place?”
The truth was, I was feeling a little anxious about living away from home for the first time, but I put on a brave face. “I like it. My room is a little drab but that’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”
He started walking down the hall and waved for me to follow him. “Come on, let me show you around.”
“As you know, this first room on the left here is now yours,” he said, pointing to my room.
I nodded and followed him as he entered the next room on the left at the end of the hall, which was just past mine.
“This is my room,” he said.
Ryan’s room was immaculate with neutral colors and no clutter. On his chest of drawers, there was a picture of him and my brother Jimmy boating on the Hudson River. It made me smile to see that he had it displayed. I picked up the picture and looked around the room. “Wow, ever the neat freak, as always, Ry.”
“Indeed, Troll.”
“I was wondering how long it would take before that old nickname came out.”
Ryan and Jimmy always teased me growing up, because of my resemblance to the Olsen twins from that old show Full House. They called me the missing triplet. The name started out as “‘Trolsen,” which stood for “Triplet” and “Olsen,” then evolved over time into “Troll.” Even though it was meant to be a term of endearment, it bugged me sometimes. Admittedly, with my petite build, long dirty blond hair and very large blue eyes, I did look somewhat like those celebrity twins.