by M. E. Carter
I race to the information desk, trying very hard not to look wild and crazy. It may be how I feel, but hospitals don’t care for the dramatics.
“My dad,” I say carefully. “He’s having heart surgery right now. Where is the waiting room?”
She gives me a sympathetic smile and stands from her rolling chair. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. Go down this hall to the elevators,” she points in the general direction, “And head up to the fourth floor. Follow the signs to the surgical wing.”
I nod my understanding. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I’ll be praying for him,” she calls out, as I pick up the pace quickly reaching the elevator doors and pressing the call button several times.
Lubbock may be conservative to a fault, but for the most part, the people here are genuinely kind and will pray for anyone at the drop of a hat. Most times I don’t notice it. Today, I’m appreciative. My dad can use all the prayers he can get.
Getting impatient, I press the call button again. It took me almost seven hours to get to the hospital. It figures it’ll take seven more to get to the fourth floor.
As if it can feel my impatience, the elevator doors finally open, and I step inside the empty carriage, anxious to reach my destination.
Fortunately, it takes very little time to get to the right floor and the signs to the surgical wing are pretty easy to follow. Finally, I see my sister sitting in a chair alone scrolling through her phone.
“Jackie!” Her head whips over and she stands when she sees me, pulling me into a tight hug as I reach her. “How is he? Any news?”
“Nothing yet. He went back about twenty minutes ago, so you just missed him.” She pulls back and puts her hand on my chest. “The doctors say he’s going to be fine. Prognosis looks good.”
“But the surgery. What are they doing? Replacing a valve or… or…”
“It’s a routine thing,” she says gently, which does nothing to calm my nerves. “It’s called a thrombolysis or something. It’s like an injection of an anti-clotting agent to get his artery clear. But the doctor said dad’s going to be fine.”
I take a minute to let her words absorb in my brain. “He’s not going to die?”
“You know Dad,” she says with a watery smile. “He will not go until he’s good and ready.”
I sink down into the waiting chair, my body relaxing for the first time since I got the call. “Oh, thank God.” Rubbing my hand down my face, I finally allow myself to say what I refused to even think the entire time I was driving. “I was so afraid I was going to be too late.”
Jackie sits in the chair next to me and grabs my hand. “You know Dad is too stubborn for that. Doesn’t matter if he got hit by a bus. He would refuse to die until he got the last word in about being respectful to Mom and not to ever, under any circumstance, root for the Cowboys.”
I chuckle because it’s true. The man doesn’t hate much, but he harbors a scathing resentment for Jerry Jones that we’ve never been able to figure out. We finally gave up trying.
“Speaking of Mom, where is she?”
“I finally convinced her to go down to the cafeteria to get some coffee.”
I widen my eyes, looking appalled. “You didn’t go get it for her? What kind of daughter are you?”
“The kind who knows Mom sits too much as it is and is gonna get a blood clot in her leg if she stayed next to his bed for much longer. She’ll be back soon. She just needed to let her muscles stretch out. Maybe people-watch for a while. It’s been an emotional day for her.”
“And the girls?”
My sister laughs and shakes her head. “Supposedly doing homework after a long day at school. At least that’s what Maggie was instructed to do when I left this morning. But if I had to guess, I’d say the two of them are on the couch right now, piled up next to each other catching up on Teen Mom.”
“Hold up. Mom lets them watch that trash now?”
“Nope. Bunch of opportunists.” She shakes her head in disappointment.
I nudge her shoulder with mine. “You’re salty because they’re watching without you, huh?”
Her lips quirk to the side just a bit. “Maybe.”
I laugh and put my arm around her, kissing her on the top of her head. For barely eighteen, Jackie is mature for her years. I blame that on the fact that she’s in charge of our two younger sisters while our parents work. It kills me that she’s had to grow up so fast and reminds me of why I can’t get off track.
A few minutes go by in silence as I quietly get lost in my thoughts. The last conversation I had with my dad was discussing my invitation to the combine. He was as excited as I was when the invite came, and I expected him to encourage me to go without a second thought. Instead, he played devil’s advocate and kept asking questions about when I’d go back to get my degree, weighing the risk of injury versus the probability of a better deal, tossed out retirement plans. The conversation was unexpected. And it made me think.
“I hear you’ve got a girlfriend.”
Pulled back to the present, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut again as I remember why I’m here. And then guilt hits me. I haven’t called Lauren since I hit the road. I haven’t responded to any of her texts yet either. I should at least tell her I made it safely. But for some reason I can’t explain, I don’t. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that right now I feel like I need to be here for my family, not flirting with Lauren.
“Sort of.” The words pop out of my mouth before I even think about why I’m not telling the whole truth.
Jackie knows me better than that, though. “Sort of? Does she know that she’s sort of your girlfriend?”
“No, you’re right,” I backpedal. “She’s definitely my girlfriend. Made a public declaration in front of our friends and everything.”
“So why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
I rub my hand down my face, partially from exhaustion, partially from irritation. I forgot what a ball-buster my sister can be. “I don’t know. I’m just not thinking straight right now. My head’s kind of spinning.”
“Mine, too,” she admits. “So, I need you to talk to me about stuff that doesn’t involve me getting worried about Dad.”
I nod in understanding. “You’re right. Sorry, uh… what do you want to know about Lauren?”
“Oooh…. Lauren,” she singsongs. “Is it serious?”
Damn. She just goes straight for the jugular, doesn’t she? “I mean, I don’t how serious it is. We’re dating and we like hanging out.”
“And sleeping with her. You like sleeping with her.”
There’s that guilt again. This time it’s from knowing I’m sleeping with Lauren but my automatic answer to the question of if we’re dating is ‘sort of’. Shit. I’m a dick. “Let’s not even go there.”
“Whatever.” Jackie rolls her eyes but thankfully drops that particular subject. “How did you meet anyway?”
Stretching my legs out, I get comfortable. I know how this grill session is going to go. “She’s Jaxon’s girlfriend’s roommate.”
Jackie has to pause and think that one through. “Jaxon’s… girlfriend’s… Okay got it. Is she cute?”
I smile thinking about Lauren’s feisty little attitude. “Yeah.”
“Show me a picture.”
“Just look her up on the school website.”
“The school has all the students on the website?”
I laugh softly. “No, dork. She’s a gymnast. Everything you want to know about her academic and athletic careers will be listed in her bio.”
My sister’s eyes widen as she pulls out her phone and starts typing. “Oh, she’s a gymnast? How cool! I wonder if she knows Simone Biles.”
I snort a laugh. “Yeah. Just like I know JJ Watt. Because all athletes know each other.”
“You don’t know.” Jackie tosses her sass my way. “A lot of elite gymnasts opt for college instead of the Olympics. They could have trained together at some
point.”
“I’m impressed you know that.”
“Whatever. I know things.” She goes back to scrolling through her phone until she finds what she’s looking for. “Oooh, she’s cute.” Jackie shoves her phone in my face to show me the headshot.
I push her away since I can’t see anything that’s two inches away from my face anyway. “Don’t ever let her hear you call her ‘cute’. She’ll kick your ass.”
Pulling her phone back, Jackie examines the picture more closely. “Yeah, I can see that. She looks like she could unleash some anger if she needed to.”
The thought of my five-foot-two girlfriend whopping my five-foot-eight sister brings a smile to my face. “She’d definitely try.”
Clicking her phone off and dropping it back in her purse, Jackie continues, interrogation apparently not over. “No seriously. How did you go from being the roommate’s best friend’s I don’t even remember what you said, to dating? Was it romantic? Did you woo her?”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, not sure how much I should say. It was an unconventional beginning, to say the least.
“It started out as a fake relationship.”
From the change in expression, I can tell that got her attention. “What do you mean?”
I stop to choose my words carefully. Yes, Jackie is eighteen, but she’s still in high school and she’s still my baby sister. “She was just a friend and she was being harassed by these guys on the team. But when they thought we were dating, they backed off. We just kept up the charade.”
“What the hell? Why would you do that? I mean, it’s noble and all, but it seems kind of out of character for you.”
A serious expression on my face, as the memories of Jackie’s turmoil assault me. Regardless of what I feel for Lauren now, there’s no denying it started because her situation triggered a part of me that needed to be unleashed. Jackie can understand that, so I turn and look her dead in the eye. “I couldn’t protect you. I wasn’t here to protect you from those jackasses. But I can protect her.”
Jackie sits back in her chair, fire in her eyes. “I didn’t need you to protect me.”
“Of course, you did. You were devastated and there was nothing I could do. I was off at college playing football and living my best life and you were stuck here…” I wave my hand in no general direction. “… putting up with it day in and day out without support from me.”
She drops her head and sighs heavily. Not the reaction I was expecting. I thought she’d be more understanding of where I’m coming from. Maybe even appreciative of my desire to protect her. Not this irritation. “Okay, first of all, I’m not the first woman who is going to get played, and I won’t be the last. It happens all the time. To almost everyone.”
I look at her like she’s nuts. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Big brother, I love you. And I know you’re super smart. But if you seriously think mine was an isolated incident, you aren’t paying attention to what goes on around you.”
Her words hit me like a slap to my face. Is this what women go through regularly? Are they constantly having to question whether a man is being honest with them, or if he just wants to get in her pants? Suddenly Lauren’s trust issues make more sense.
“Second, of course I was devastated. Here was this guy that I thought liked me, and instead of treating my virginity like it was something special, he spread it around the whole school.”
I feel myself getting angry again. I’m sure she can see the tick in my jaw.
“But I got my revenge,” she adds. “And no one bothers me anymore.”
My head whips over to look at her. “Revenge?”
She nods, a malicious look on her face. “At first, I was just shocked. I wanted to hide and never show my face to anyone around here again.”
“And I wasn’t here to help you.”
“No. But I started thinking about what Grandma would do.”
“Grandma?” I furrow my brow because that’s not at all where I thought this was going. “The same grandma who preached about waiting until marriage until her dying breath?”
Jackie cocks her head and drops a huge bomb on me. “Heath, a woman isn’t that opinionated about sex unless she’s been jaded and has a reason to be. Not even Grandma.”
“What?!?”
“Relax. If there’s a story there, I don’t know it. But I started thinking about how she would handle things, and I realized something important. We Germaine’s stick together. We take care of each other. But when push comes to shove, we also know how to take care of ourselves. And that’s what I did.”
“I’m not sure if I want to know.”
“Oh, you do,” she says with a laugh. “You see, people kept coming up and asking me about it. Asking about certain intimate details that should never be shared because that’s just disrespectful.”
My hands start to clench as I fight the urge to punch something.
“Relax, brother. I’m not to the good part yet.”
“There better be a good part,” I grumble.
“There is. So anyway, at first, I was sad and humiliated. But then this one girl, Tasha, came up and said she heard I made squeaky noises during sex and asked if it was true.”
“Ugh!” I throw my hands over my ears. “I don’t need to know this!”
“It’s important,” she argues, pulling my hands away. “Listen! When she said that, it was like Grandma turned on this switch from heaven because suddenly, I was mad. I was so mad. People were walking around clapping him on the back for a job well done, and I was being made fun of. What kind of bull shit was that? So, I turned the tables.” Her malicious look turns downright evil. “I turned to Tasha and I said, ‘Do you know why I squeaked? I was in such shock to see that his penis was the size of a Vienna sausage.’”
Stunned, my mouth gapes open until I can find the right words. “Ohmygod, you did not.”
“I most certainly did. And then I held up my hand and said, ‘Seriously. My thumb is bigger. But maybe I could have worked with that except he kept trying to figure out how to get it in my clit. He couldn’t even find the right spot.’”
I can’t help it. I ignore the part about her lady bits and bark a laugh. “What did they say?”
“A couple of the girls started laughing, so I kept going and told them that he shot his load in about four seconds flat, all over himself. I just kept going on and on about how his face contorted until he looked like Ace Ventura and he sounded like a wounded dog when he came. I don’t even know where all my inspiration came from, but by the time I was done, people were laughing hysterically at what a horrible lover he is.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this because I don’t want to know this much about your sex life, but that was pretty damn clever.”
Jackie sits back, looking pleased with herself. Hell, I’m pleased with her, too. “It sure as hell was. He talked to me one more time, demanding I take everything back because he’s the laughingstock of the school, but I refused. Told him my mama taught me better than to lie, and then in front of everyone in the hall, swore on Grandma’s grave it was all the honest to God’s truth.”
“You lied on Grandma’s grave?”
Jackie flicks her hand at me dismissively. “I figured she wouldn’t mind this time. In fact, I’m pretty sure she would have encouraged it.” Turning serious, she adds, “See? You can stop trying to protect us girls, Heath. We’re strong. We’re smart. And we know how to hold our own. I bet Lauren does, too. So, make sure you’re dating Lauren because you like her. Not because you’re trying to save me by saving her.”
Jackie’s words cut through me, mostly because I don’t know why I like Lauren so much. Is it because we’ve truly discovered a love connection? Or is this some weird unresolved God-complex I have? I need to think about this some more, but my thoughts fly out of my head when my mother walks through the door.
“Heath,” she says gently, arms out for me to give her a hug. Her eyes look swollen like she’s bee
n crying, but she’s smiling.
I don’t hesitate to cross the room and practically fall into my mother’s embrace. I didn’t realize how much I needed her comfort until she starts repeating, “He’s going to be fine. Your daddy’s going to be just fine.”
It’s the first time in the last seven hours that I believe it.
TWENTY-FIVE
Lauren
No tumbling. No leaps. No turns. No vaulting.
Not even allowed to climb on the beam and no bars without being strapped on, which means nothing except giants.
I’m. So. Bored.
Laying on my back, I stare at the gym ceiling. It’s amazing how much of our equipment is attached to the steel beams. I think I knew that but for whatever reason, my brain just glossed over it. Makes sense, though. What are they going to attach the rings to? Ceiling tiles? Plywood? With how much force the guys put on the straps when they perform, they’d break a hole in the ceiling within hours. The thought brings a smile to my face.
Ohmygod. This is what my life has come to. Laying here, sprawled out, pretending to stretch, and fantasizing about the male half of our team faceplanting in the middle of a routine. And Heath’s not even here to keep my mind distracted with weird and interesting conversation when he comes to get me.
He’s only been gone for a few days. After one hell of a scary day, the doctors believe his dad is going to make a full recovery. It’s such good news. Heath is still gone and wants to make sure his dad is truly on the road to recovery before heading back. I completely understand and agree under the circumstance. Unfortunately, I got none of this information from the source. Instead, Jaxon has been updating me because Heath has gone radio silent.
I get it. Heath is busy and probably freaking out, but selfishly, this is hard on me. Heath’s absence, not to mention his silence, combined with my own restlessness, make my days feel like torture. That’s not a good sign that I’m so attached to him when I’m supposed to be protecting my heart. It’s also not good for my mental wellbeing to be so idle. Its times like these where I can easily spiral, so I need to pay close attention to my self-talk.
