“Why wasn’t I on birth control?” she asks Chico.
Of course, she knows the answer. She has yet to find a hormonal birth control that does not make her crazy. Furthermore, with her last long term relationship having ended nearly two years ago, she sees no need to be a slave to taking something every day.
“As soon as this is over,” she comments to the small canine, “I’m getting an IUD.”
Agitated, Hope stands up and walks around, wondering how long the whole process will take. She’s brought some work with her to the room, but has yet to open her briefcase.
“You’re only a bunch of cells!” she yells at her abdomen.
And if by some outside force, the cramps finally start. Armed with Midol and a heating pad, she settles into bed. Chico jumps up to join her and she lays cuddled next to her canine friend, listening to the radio and letting her mind wander. Wrapped under the heavy and soft duvet around her, everything takes on a surreal quality.
It isn’t until Hope makes her first trip to the bathroom to exchange sanitary pads that the reality of the situation hits her.
Seeing the red drip into the clear water, she realizes what’s happening.
Whether she is genuinely sad for her decision or it is the hormones raging through her body, Hope begins to weep quietly. She knows she’s made the right choice, she knows there is no pain for the fetus. Pulling herself out of what is going on, Hope focuses her attention on the rest of the bathroom. She counts tiles on the floor, looks at each item in the room and wonders who was the person to choose them, and who cleans up this room day after day. She wonders if she should be thinking about something more important than scanning through the e-mails on her Blackberry. Unable to control her mind, Hope flushes the toilet and exits the bathroom.
Having been raised in a lapsed Methodist home, once upon a time, there had been religion in her life. She remembers going to youth group and services on Sunday. After entering undergrad, she hadn’t made time to worship and with law school following, studying for the bar exam, and practicing eighty hours a week, hadn’t left room for any sort of worship other than law.
Perhaps her reaction was the pain medication or the sleepless night she’d had the night before, but on autopilot she moves to the desk and pulls open the bottom drawer. She does not know what passage she’s looking for, or what comfort she’ll take from a bunch of words on paper, but feels better having the familiar weight of the Bible in her hands.
Placing a hand on the book and the other on her abdomen, she says, “Hi God. It’s been awhile, and there’s a lot we haven’t talked about. I know what I’m going through is because of a silly decision on my part. I realize You have no control over when I ovulate, or whether or not I choose to use protection when I am having sex.”
Chico walks over and sits by her, lying his head on her foot. She pets the dog’s head and continues, “While some who believe in You might think what I’m doing is wrong, I don’t think You judge me. I think You can see into someone and know when they are acting selfishly or otherwise. I did want to tell You I’m sorry. I feel as though I’ve let You down in some way.”
Her hands flutter over the cover and she finishes her prayer, “Anyway, hopefully the next time we talk I won’t be so fucked up. Amen.”
Hope opens her eyes and look at the book. Not feeling any better about herself or her situation, she moves to put it away, when a piece of paper falls out. Curious, she unfolds the note and reads the message.
Smiling to herself, she thinks, just for a moment, the world makes sense – that there’s something bigger than her. Scooping up her dog, she dances with him around the room and says, “And that’s all that matters.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
April 20, 5:15 P.M.
Rick Fabrizio enters the room. After reviewing the space and putting some of his things away, he relaxes on the couch, flips on the television, lowers the volume and surfs through the channels, settling on the news. Removing his suit jacket, he loosens his tie with vague disinterest and pulls out his laptop, and settling on the couch opens the computer and scrolls through his e-mails. As a consultant, there are any number of events to catch up on, fires to put out, and projects to get ahead on.
Rick denies all requests for calls and other than a few text messages, the room remains quiet and still with only the gentle murmur of bland American accents and various crawls across the television screen. In a world full of constant sound, Rick revels in the luxury of silence. Familiar sounds, the typing of the keyboard, the ding of the distant elevator bell, and barely heard street sounds are the only thing to interrupt the peace.
He sighs to himself, marveling at how few places there are in the world to get a moment of peace. Not wanting to disturb the space, when he needs to call his partner, he walks out to the terrace, pulling the door closed behind him. When he’s finished work for the day he decides to go downstairs to dine and leaves the sanctity of the silent room behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
April 23, 4:33 P.M.
“You know why we’re here, correct?”
Oscar hangs his head and not looking his therapist in the eye, answers, “Yes.”
“Why did you do it? I thought we were making progress in our sessions.”
“I don’t know.”
“Does it have anything to do with the recent losing streak?”
“No,” he answers immediately. “Anyway, we’re still in first place in the division.”
“Not by much.”
“I guess.”
“And maybe the team would have a better chance to keep a first place ranking with you on the court today.”
In response, Oscar crosses his arms and says nothing.
“Do you want to talk about what happened? What really triggered this?”
“I don’t know, I guess.”
“I think we should. I don’t think you want a situation like that one happening again, do you?”
Again, the basketball player remains silent.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Very well, now, do you want to talk me through what happened?”
“I’m sure you’ve seen it on the news.”
“Maybe I’ve seen a clip or two, but I want to hear about the event in your own words.”
“Fine. Mind if I stretch out?”
“Not at all.”
As Oscar moves to lie lengthways on the upholstered couch, his large frame dominating the small sofa. Off topic, he says, “I always saw people do this in movies, now I understand.”
“Are you tired? I’m sure we can get some coffee.”
“Nah.”
In a firmer voice, Nancy says, “I’m happy to talk to you in whatever way you feel comfortable. So, tell me about the game. Were you frustrated before the warm ups?”
“Maybe a little.”
“By what?”
“Nothing.”
“Oscar, I’m not sure how to tell you that if you cannot be honest and open with me, we’re not going to make any progress.”
“Fine. It was Dani. We had a fight.”
“What happened?”
“She’s late.”
“Late…” Nancy pauses a moment and clarifies, “For her menstruation?”
“Shit, Doc, you can’t say things like that.”
“Certainly I can. Are you that uncomfortable with a woman’s cycle?”
“I’m not here to talk about…women’s stuff.”
Nancy looks at her patient and says, “I’m not saying you have to be entirely comfortable with what goes on in a woman’s uterus, but this is your wife we’re talking about.”
“Fine. So, you know how I’m not exactly ready to be a father just yet?”
“We’ve spoken about it, yes.”
“Anyway, right before I’m about to leave for the game, she just comes into the kitchen and says, ‘I’m late.’”
“Had she recen
tly changed her birth control options?”
“What do you mean?”
“What type of contraceptive do you use?”
Oscar shifts uncomfortably and says, “She’s on something.”
“You have no idea the name of it?”
“No.”
“And you’ve not discussed with her coming off of it?”
“No.”
“Listen, Oscar, I know that you are a busy professional, but I think you may have some misplaced frustration here.”
“I er, reacted on the court because of Dani’s announcement?”
“Potentially.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that, from the beginning, we’ve talked about your lack of control. If Dani is pregnant, which yes, is absolutely something to celebrate, it’s also something you did not plan on together. Would you agree with that?”
“I guess.”
“And you’re sure you do not want to let her know that we’re meeting? If you don’t feel comfortable bringing her here, there are a few marriage counsellors I can recommend.”
“Not yet.”
“Fine. So, she tells you she’s late, and how did you react?”
Oscar sighs loudly and answers, “Badly.”
“Badly how?”
“I didn’t say anything. I just walked out of the house.”
“Oh, Oscar.”
“I know.”
“And you didn’t go back? Call her? Text her?”
“No.”
“How do you think your reaction made her feel?”
“Like shit.”
Nancy scribbles some notes, “So, you got to the game and started warming up?”
“Yes.”
“Did you alert the coach or any of your teammates that you were in an agitated state?”
“Fuck no.”
“Because?”
“This is not some sort of touchy feely new age sport, Doc, this is basketball. I get paid to play, not to be some sort of diva.”
“Okay, fine. So, you’re telling me you are able to separate your playing from what’s going on off the court?”
“I guess.”
“And you punching the referee had nothing to do with your frustrations at home?”
“I don’t know.”
“Again, let’s go back to what happened.”
“Fine, but I’ll have you know he was completely asking for it.”
“Be that as it may, Oscar, let me remind you that in the number of starts you’ve had as a Laker, you’ve never had any instance even similar to this one.”
“I know…” his voice trails off, then admits in a low tone, “I let everyone down.”
“Is that how you see what happened?”
“The whole thing was over before I knew what I was doing. I feel terrible. After I was ejected, I waited in the locker room so I could apologize to him personally.”
“Because?”
“Because my reaction wasn’t his fault. I acted like a dick.”
“Have you apologized to your wife yet?”
“Not exactly.”
“Why not? She’s going through any number of emotions right now. I think she could use some support from her husband.”
“How?”
“Has she taken a pregnancy test?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oscar… I won’t use the word disappointed, because I’m sure you’re already feeling low. Are you sleeping at the house?”
At this question, he looks uncomfortable and says, “The guest house.”
“I think you still have a chance to make things right.”
“Where do I start?”
“Did you apologize to your team for your actions?”
“Why should I? They certainly don’t apologize when they fuck up.”
“Oscar, to control this situation, you need to take ownership of what you’ve done. You can’t do that if you don’t acknowledge what happened.”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, I want to believe that your actions were a one time occurrence. To convince the rest of the world, you need to act like a man and take responsibility for what you did.”
“But…”
“Listen, Oscar, no one ever said that making changes to your life would be easy, but I think you came to me looking for answers to some difficult questions. To become a person you like, to be someone worth looking in the mirror and seeing a reflection you’re proud of, you’re going to have to do some things you don’t want to do. Now, do you think you’re capable of making changes like this?”
He takes a moment, before answering, “Yes.”
“Good.”
“So, after I apologize to my teammates, how should I talk to Dani?”
“Well, let’s first talk about your alternatives. She’s either pregnant or she’s not. And if she’s not now, she will be in the future. So, what do you think you need to do?”
“Buy her something. Something expensive.”
Nancy sighs, but realizes society is probably behind his programmed response. Men have been conditioned to thinking something material will make the situation better. She says, “If Dani is pregnant, undoubtedly this will be something she wants to share with you.”
Oscar remains silent.
Nancy bridges her hands together and queries, “I apologize if this is an intrusive question, but can I ask if you and Dani signed a pre-nuptial agreement?”
“A pre-nup? That’s what you think this about?”
“I’m not ruling out anything.”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Oh?”
“Dani is going to be my wife forever. We’re going to celebrate fifty years together.”
“I know everyone thinks that when they’re newly married.”
“I may not seem it – but I’m traditional.”
“So, what are you going to do? How will you take control of this situation?”
“I need to call Dani.”
“Yes. Do you want me to be with you when you do?”
Oscar considers the offer and answers, “Actually, yes.”
“How about now?”
“What will I say?”
“Can you start with ‘I’m sorry?’”
“I think so. What else am I supposed to say?”
“Ask her how she’s feeling. You need to communicate some of what we’ve been talking about. Sooner or later, she needs to know about some of the issues we’ve been discussing.” Nancy nods to his iPhone sitting on the table and says, “Let’s try.”
“She might not pick up.”
“Don’t start with excuses. I know this is a difficult step, but it’s not going to be any easier the longer you wait.”
Reluctantly, Oscar retrieves his phone and options the speaker on. Pressing the number 2 on the keypad, the device automatically dials.
“Hello?”
For a moment, Oscar looks panicked. Then with a look of reassurance from Nancy, he says, “Honey?”
“Yes?” Dani’s tone is flat.
“I’m sorry.”
“Took you long enough.”
“You know me.”
On the other end of the line, Dani sighs impatiently and says, “I’m on my way out, Oscar. I’m not sure I have time for this.”
The basketball player cringes at the use of his name. Clearing his throat, he says, “Baby, you have to know how sorry I am.”
“And what are you sorry for exactly?”
“Everything.”
“Can you be more specific?” The irritation is clear.
“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
“There’s the understatement of the year.”
“But Dani, you have to know – while I want to be the father of our children, I’m not sure I’m ready for it just yet.”
“Obviously – I’m fairly certain you left tire marks on the
driveway.”
“I…”
“That’s just it, Oscar, I don’t want another excuse. I know we didn’t plan this, but before you knew anything, your first reaction was to run away. How do you think that made me feel?”
“I…”
“For better or worse? I thought I could count on you.”
Nancy looks over at her patient, who looks as though he’s about to break down.
“You can.”
“Fortunately for you, there’s nothing to worry about. I got my period this morning.”
Oscar looks mutely at Nancy who gives him an encouraging nod. He asks neutrally, “How do you feel about that?”
“I honestly don’t know. I was excited, but with your reaction… I don’t want to force anything on you.”
“I know.”
“When will you be home?”
“I can make it home soon. Will you be there?”
“I’ll be home after six.”
“Can I get you something from Laura’s?”
“Maybe. You’re not off the hook yet, Carlton.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Dani. I promise.”
Dani takes a moment and then asks, “Does this have something to do with your parents?”
Nancy’s eyebrows go up and Oscar asks, “What do you mean?”
“You’re going to be so much better than them.” Her voice deepens with emotion, “I know you’re going to be the best daddy alive. You know that, right?”
“I know. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
The call ends and Oscar looks at Nancy, needing some reassurance that he hasn’t completely wrecked his marriage.
“How do you think it went?”
“How do you think it went, Doc?”
“She picked up your call, which is encouraging, although I think there is a lot you two need to talk about.” Oscar looks anxious to leave and Nancy says, “Just remember that your wife has been through an emotional time. Whether or not she wanted her period, or a baby – you need to hear her out. As uncomfortable as it might make you, this is time for a real conversation.”
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