Sinners Football 02- Wish for a Sinner

by Lynn Shurr

  “You tell him, sister,” Sharlette Dobbs agreed.

  “Stay out of this, Sharlette,” Ace told his wife.

  “Poke him again, honey, harder,” Precious Armitage urged. “He done the dirty wit’ yo’ own flesh and blood.”

  “We going home, Precious. We all going home,” Calvin Armitage ordered. “Go on, y’all get outta here.” Calvin had a talent for moving folks. The crowd broke up. He steered his own wife across the street to where his van waited in the parking lot. His two youngest children had their wide-eyed heads sticking out the window.

  Sharlette Dobbs left still fussing, “He cheated on her with her own kin. I’d kill you, Ace, if you done me that way.”

  “All your kin is ugly, baby. You the only pretty one.” Ace kept her moving.

  Finally, only Joe and Nell remained with Connor and the Rev standing by. “You can go, guys,” Joe told them in a calmer voice. “I have some explaining to do.”

  “Yes, yes, you have, Joe Dean Billodeaux.” Nell thwacked him with the tabloid.

  Let him dare touch her or pull her up to his level and give her a kiss and she’d sock him in the balls.

  “I asked you to believe in me, Tink. That hurts. Truly.” Joe rubbed his chest as if he had heartburn.

  “You could have told me this involved Emily. The worst part was seeing you and my sister together celebrating with that bitch of a lawyer while I sat home with Deanie like the naïve little wife. I called Em for an explanation.” Nell blinked her eyes rapidly to hold in the tears.

  Joe rubbed his chest again. “What did she say?”

  “She said you had lunch together and shared a bottle of wine. She said you didn’t want to tell me anything until after Christmas, but I was in for a shock. Nicole Everard is handling all the details. Then, she hung up and wouldn’t answer again.”

  “Let me thank Emily for making things so clear to you. Damn her! Who’s watching Dean?” He looked around for someone holding the baby.

  “Mrs. Alexander came over.”

  “That’s just great. Mary, Jesus and Joseph, I could use some help here. Ride with me.”

  Joe led the way to his Porsche. Nell got in before he could open the door for her. He fought the traffic and made his way up shady Esplanade toward City Park. Turning in at the pillars, he parked behind the art museum and beckoned Nell to come with him toward the lagoon as he searched for a quiet, romantic spot. This near the water, he figured could either dive right in and tell her, or drown himself if she rejected him.

  He guided her to a bench by a broken oak hanging out over the water. Ducks roosting on the trunk started up a soft quacking full of hope for an offering of stale bread. He had nothing to give them rich as he was. He must explain somehow.

  “Those mallards are like the Billodeaux men before they get married—always chasing any females who will have them. See the pair of swans swimming over there?”

  Nell nodded. “Birds that big and beautiful are hard to miss. Everyone admires and loves them. No one notices that little night heron in the reeds, all small and brown.”

  “Well, night herons make a good gumbo so I wouldn’t say they are overlooked by Cajuns, but let me make my point here. I was talking about swans. They mate for life, you know. That’s how the Billodeaux men are after they marry. Faithful to their mates. Swans build a great big nest together and produce eggs and offspring.”

  “Joe, I may be small, but I am not a child. What are you trying to tell me?”

  “Nell, I asked Emily to donate her eggs so we could try in vitro one day. I wanted you to be able to give birth to your own baby. We reached an agreement. That’s what the so-called celebration was about.”

  “Oh, Joe, you didn’t! Em donated bone marrow for me. I can’t ask anything more of her. Mom was away from home taking care of me when she got her first period.”

  Joe held up a hand. “I know. Don’t want to hear that story again.”

  “She didn’t get to go to the prom or attend LSU because of me.”

  “Heard it all before.”

  “Isn’t Dean enough for you?”

  “I did it for you, Nell. You deserve to have your own baby.”

  “Dean is my baby now. Joe, if we ever consider in vitro, and it’s far too early in our marriage for that, I’d rather we found some other donor.”

  “Too late. I signed the contract before I left this last time.”

  “Contract? You have a contract with Em?”

  “That’s where Nicole Everard comes in. Emily hired her to negotiate the price.”

  “You are paying my sister to do this?”

  Joe shuffled his feet in the brown, fallen leaves of the oak and stared at the pool. “I think she’ll be more pissed if we try to back out now. She wants the money so she can, this is a quote, ‘shake the shit of Loo-siana off my shoes and never come back.’ She has other stipulations, too. She wants the procedure done in the next six months because she isn’t staying around here forever to serve us, and she’ll do this only once. I said okay.”

  “Without asking me! Joe, human eggs don’t freeze well. This will be a waste of your money and her time.”

  “I know. I’ve been reading up. See, you fertilize the eggs and implant or freeze the resulting embryos. It works best if the woman is young and the embryos are fresh.”

  “I know all that,” Nell snapped. “Don’t you think I did my own reading?”

  “For all you’ve done for me and Deanie, I wanted to give you the best Christmas gift I could imagine, a child of your own, and a brother or sister for Dean—maybe more than one. Nell, you might think of yourself as small and ordinary, but you are the strongest and best woman I know. Hell, you’ve taken me on for life and that’s no easy task. I love you so much I’d give you the world if I could.”

  She hugged him around his slim middle and laid her head on his chest where she could hear his heart beat strong and steady. How could she deny him this?

  “Okay. We’ll give it a try in March when Deanie is a little older and the football season is over, but don’t get your hopes up. The success rate is less than fifty percent. If this does work, I guess I won’t be the first woman to have children a year apart in age.”

  Joe kissed her so hard Nell fell back on the bench. The startled ducks quacked as loudly as applause and took wing over the still water. Mrs. Alexander would be thrilled to know she did not have to report a failed marriage or find another home for Dean.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “If my man said he wanted to give me a baby for Christmas, I’d just have to kill him,” Precious Armitage swore. “Don’t think I couldn’t do it either. Why I’d wait until he was nice and relaxed in bed, then I’d put my hands around that thick neck of his and smother him to death in my bosoms.”

  Precious demonstrated by pushing two huge brown fists against her enormous breasts covered in a holiday red sweater where Rudolph’s red nose popped out on top of one nipple. Recent pictures of baby Dean went flying from her fingers. She picked them up one by one: bright-eyed Deanie clutching a handful of white beard as he sat on Santa’s lap at the mall; Deanie on his belly among a mountain of gifts beneath the ten foot spruce his daddy special ordered from the Chapelle Optimists Club to decorate the new house; Deanie pushing up and giving a sloppy smile to the camera as drool pooled on a plush toy polar bear.

  “Not that Joe Dean Billodeaux don’t make a beautiful child, but this one is only four months old. You may not have given birth to the boy, Nell, but it ain’t hardly time to have another when this one hasn’t cut his teeth yet—or been potty-trained.”

  Word of Nell’s extraordinary Christmas gift had gotten out, though none of the financial details such as the extraordinary price paid for the donor eggs were revealed. Joe Dean had taken care of that with a privacy clause binding Emily Abbott and her lawyer to silence. If they talked, they forfeited the second million regardless of the results of the procedure. Nell’s jealous sister kept her pouty lips sealed shut and reaped praise from
both families for her unselfish deed.

  The team played on the road this weekend, so Nell took the opportunity to invite any wives not traveling to Utah to see the mansion built by the Sinners’ quarterback and enjoy the game as a group. She tried hard to fit in with the other football player’s wives, who for the most part were tall, blonde and beautiful which made her feel even shorter, darker and below average in looks—but not in brains. She did have a master’s degree in child psychology. Still, she thanked heaven people like Precious Armitage existed in this group.

  The Sinners had their division sewed up tight but still had to meet the Salt Lake Saints in the last game of the year. The sports commentators always loved this match up if for no other reason than the numerous jokes they could make about the Saints playing the Sinners.

  The women took over Joe’s leathery den with its wall-filling hi-def television, easy to clean slate floors and close proximity to what Nell called the Sinners’ bar and buffet. Not a single dainty sandwich graced the table. For starters, Nadine brought a two-gallon pot of turkey-sausage gumbo. Joe smoked and sliced two briskets before leaving the state. He would be surprised at how little of it was left when he returned. Bowls of chips and chili dip sat within easy reach. A bowl of creamy slaw served as the main side dish. Vegetable trays were available for any woman who couldn’t get into the high-calorie spirit of the day. More than a few of the wives were mildly buzzed on iced beer and hot, spiced wine by the time they got to the Sinners’ dessert table with its triple layer chocolate cake, sugary pecan pie and rich ice creams, neither fat free nor sugarless, with five possible toppings.

  Nell sat cross-legged on one of the bright, washable throw rugs scattered around the room. She took a spoonful of chocolate cake capped with country vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped topping, crushed pecans and a maraschino cherry, swallowed and gestured at the screen.

  “I wish Stevie could be here.” Connor Riley’s wife was tall, blonde and gorgeous, too, but different since she was a sports photographer who could hold her own with the boys.

  “Yeah, that girl can eat like a horse, then run it off doing her job, but she got this thang about being down there by the field when Connor plays. Thinks it helps him win. Look there, you can just see her ponytail bobbing behind the bench,” said Precious Armitage stretched out in Joe’s recliner.

  With a bottle of beer in one hand and a plate of corn chips and chili dip at her fingertips, she did a fine job of filling Joe’s space. “Aw, shit, Muhammad’s done got the ball. Wake up, Calvin! Kick yo’ boys’ asses. They should have had him. Come on Rev, move that fine behind. We could use a turnover right now.”

  Mintay Bullock, light-skinned and usually serene, her medical beeper slung from a belt loop, took a sip of her ginger ale, then chastised Precious. “Don’t be yelling at my man. He got that touchdown with his interception in the second quarter.”

  The Sinners hung on to a 17-10 lead into the fourth quarter. While the commentators acknowledged the Saints were the weaker team, they threw out the possibility that intense rivalry might spur the underdogs to excel. Muhammad caught a second pass, sprinted across the goal line and did his little boogey dance for the roaring home crowd. The extra point was good. Tied game.

  The wives, crammed on the sofa and sitting on the floor, groaned collectively. A few got up to use the powder room while Joe Dean and the offense trotted out on to the field and commercials filled the screen.

  “What do you think, Al? Are we going into overtime, or will Joe Dean Billodeaux pull off a two minute blitz?” the commentator asked his companion in the booth.

  “The blitz is Billodeaux’s specialty, but he’s down two receivers with Jared Forte back on the injured list and their first round draft pick running back proving to be mighty fragile and still out with hamstring problems. Fullerton’s getting long in the tooth for this kind of play. Might be his last season with the Sinners. As for Riley and Deets, the Saints’ defense will be covering them like blankets and hoping for an interception.”

  “I’ll tell you, Al, Joe Dean hasn’t been the fireball quarterback we saw last year. There have been rumors he might have been responsible for Forte’s off-field broken arm. A hot temper can come back to haunt you.”

  “Judging by the big fine levied on Billodeaux that was no rumor. Let’s see if being rash costs his team the game, Hank.”

  Nell cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted “Boooo!” at the sportscasters. The team wives took up the cry almost drowning out the next words.

  “But Billodeaux has shown a steadiness we haven’t seen in him before. Game after game, he pulls out those fourth quarter victories. Marriage and settling down must agree with him.”

  “Sorry about the boo, Al.” Nell apologized to the screen.

  Sharlette Dobbs sighed. “I wish Ace would break someone’s arm for me, and say he doesn’t care how much it cost him the way Joe Dean did.”

  “Don’t wish. The fine was doubled after he said that. We have a child to put through college, you know,” Nell chided.

  “And another one soon to be on the way if you leave it up to Joe with all his candle-lighting nonsense,” Mintay added.

  “Fine could of been a lot worse, but half the team saw that dawg, Forte, mauling our girl here. Sure way to cause trouble on the team, going after another man’s wife.” Precious leaned forward to watch the action on the big screen.

  “Here’s the play. Two men on Riley, one on top of Deets. Fullerton’s down, Billodeaux has no openings and decides to run it himself. He’s down hard at the forty-five yard line. He could have fallen over and gained as much yardage. Second down.”

  “Booo!” Nell screamed again.

  “Billodeaux is searching for a receiver and is sacked. Loss of two yards, third down and too far back for the field goal. Should punt, but no, Joe Dean is going for it again. Not a good decision on his part, Al. Deets and Riley shake free.”

  Sharlette Dobbs shot from her armchair as the camera homed in on Joe Dean dancing in the pocket, searching for a target.

  “Ace is open, Joe! Throw to Ace!”

  As if her shriek could be heard in Salt Lake, Joe glanced to his right and homed in on the dependable Asa Dobbs who had finished his blocking and punched through the opposing line to clear space. Joe lobbed a short pass into the tight end’s hands. Ace, startled as if he had gotten the gift of a lifetime handed to him, took off, lumbering down the field toward the goal.

  Connor Riley stopped searching the sky for the football, shoved one of his guards to the ground and went after the other. Deets threw his cover aside. The wide receivers opened a corridor for their slower teammate to charge through. Ace crossed the line and executed a ball spike, a short duck walk and three leaps in the air before being engulfed by the congratulations of most of the Sinner’s offensive team.

  “Excessive celebration? I think not, Al. Asa Dobbs scores his first touchdown for the Sinners.”

  “Al, baby, you don’t know what celebration is. Just wait ’til Ace gets home.” Sharlette swung Nell around in a wide circle while Ancient Andy Mortenson came on to the field and kicked the extra point as the buzzer sounded.

  Some of the wives went in search of their children being entertained outside by Cassie and two of Joe Dean’s older nieces. Nell offered sleeping space to anyone who felt they couldn’t drive home but got no takers. Sharlette Dobbs remained glued to the screen for the post-game interviews.

  Joe Dean, as usual, got the first word and gave it away. “I think the man you need to speak to is right over there.” He pointed to the beaming Asa Dobbs. “Deanie, tell Mommy that Daddy is on his way home.” Joe gave a tiny wave to the camera.

  “Awww,” Precious Armitage said pushing out of her seat. “I guess I see why you couldn’t turn that man down for wanting another baby, Nell.”

  “Hush, Precious.” Sharlette Dobbs leaned forward to take in Ace’s every word.

  “I’d do it again if I got the chance, you know. Man needs to
have a chance. I keep my mind on the game all season. That’s how I am. And, uh—hi to my lovely lady, Sharlette.”

  Sharlette leaped into the air. “Did you hear? He said my name on the TV. Ace, honey, you in for the welcome of your life.”

  “Why don’t I help clean up, Nell? Sharlette needs to get over her high before we hit the road with a van full of kids.” Precious began collecting bottles and empty glasses.

  “Unlike you, Precious Armitage, I have not been drinking. You know how many calories there is in a light beer?” Sharlette Dobbs ran her delicate mocha-colored hands down her slim hips.

  “Know how much nourishment there is in lettuce, yo’ scrawny thang?” Precious shot back. “Hoping Ace is gonna notice you during the season? You in for a disappointment, I declare.”

  “If he does notice, he’ll love the view.” Sharlette snatched up a stack of plates and sashayed for the kitchen, her slender rear swinging.

  “Humpf. My Calvin likes a woman with a substantial behind. Told me so often. Childbearing hips, that’s what I got. Had four babies practically fall out of me.” Precious, carrying twice Sharlette’s load, headed off to the dishwasher.

  Nell eyed Mintay. They burst into laughter. Nell wiped her eyes on the edge of a napkin. Suddenly, she turned sober. “Mintay, do you think I’ll have trouble with childbirth?”

  “You are tiny, but it’s what’s inside that counts. Even though Joe is a big guy, the size of the mother often limits the size of the fetus. Once the child is born, their genetics kick in and the baby grows like wildfire. You know Joe is praying for twins? That’s another issue altogether, but I’d say cross that bridge when and if you come to it.” Mintay gave Nell a reassuring hug.

  “Twins? He expects twins? Mintay, I think we’ll be lucky to get even one child out of all this in vitro business.”

  “Oh, Joe didn’t tell you he made a deal with St. Jude? He’ll dedicate his next, and according to Joe, imminent, Super Bowl to him if you conceive twins. Can you believe it?”