by Liza Brown
“You want to go out for a few?” he asked.
I shrugged then nodded. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
We ended up at one of the newer places in town that had apparently made itself available specifically for post-game celebrating players. Slam Dunk sat at the corner of Lincoln Way and Erie and had been many things over the years. Locals questioned how long this establishment would last. There were fans there too, but the bar had an area blocked off for the players so they wouldn’t get attacked by over-zealous fans if they didn’t want to be bothered.
Once inside, Elsu and I got comfortable side-by-side in a booth. A huge tray of nachos loaded with everything you could imagine was placed before us and we both dove in. Brent and the woman he was with at the Welcome-to-Massillon dinner the previous week sat down across from us.
“Mae, this is my girlfriend, Chelsea. Chelsea, this is Mae. Elsu’s lady.” Of course my hands and mouth were full of chips so I forfeited the handshake and smiled with an awkward wave.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mae.” She smiled. She was blonde with fair skin. A stark contrast to Brent’s deep dark brown.
Once I had chewed and smiled I was able to speak. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I saw you at the dinner last week, but never had a chance to officially say hello.”
“That’s fine, we get to meet now.” Her smile seemed sweet and sincere.
“So where are you from?” I asked.
“I grew up in Akron, I’m living down here now. I work at the hospital as an RN.”
“Pretty and smart. Brent it looks like you done good,” I teased him.
“I’m a lucky guy. We met when I had to have surgery this past summer. She was my nurse, and that’s all she wrote.” He smiled longingly at her.
“Really, what kind of surgery?” I asked.
“I had to have my appendix out. I caught her trying to get a glimpse of the old pork and beans, if you know what I mean!”
Chelsea smacked him on the arm. Red swarmed across her face like a rash. “I was not!”
“Hey, when you got the goods, the girls like to look! Am I right?” he looked between Elsu and I for agreement. But we just smiled.
Brent looked at us closer. He leaned in and stared into Elsu’s eyes. “Dude.”
“What’s your problem?” asked Elsu as he pushed his friend back.
“The rumors are true!”
“Stop! Right now! Stop!” said Elsu in a hushed yet angry voice.
Brent raised his hands and sat back. “Unbelievable,” was all he could say.
I quickly wished I had just taken Elsu home and had our discussion.
“So, you’ve been to my work,” said Elsu as he turned to me, making a marked effort to change the subject.
“I have. And I won prizes!” I smiled.
“What did you win? I didn’t even pay attention to that part.”
“I got this big orange ball with a bunch of scribbling on it PLUS a $100 gift card to the team shop.”
“Seriously? They gave away one of our balls?”
“Yep,” I said as I drank some beer.
“That’s a nice prize.”
“I swear my five year old nephew could have signed his name neater than what’s on that ball! I can’t tell who’s who!”
“I’ll show you when we’re back home.” He put his arm on the back of the booth behind my shoulders and turned to face me. “Since you saw my work, tomorrow I’ll come see your work. Do you have any of those chop shop shirts in my size?” he asked.
My jaw nearly hit the table. “Why do you want to come to work with me?”
“Didn’t you see the calendar?” asked Brent. “It’s ‘Bring your Elsu to Work Day’ tomorrow.”
We all laughed. “I don’t recall that being a holiday, but it sounds like a good cause,” I said.
Elsu gave Brent a cross look. “Smart ass. Because I don’t have anything to do tomorrow and I’d love to see the shop further than the front desk. I know how to use power tools. I could be Steve’s new right-hand man.”
I giggled. “Well, you’d need steel toes and I know we don’t have coveralls that would fit you. So if you don’t mind risking the loss of your toes and getting your clothes dirty I guess you could come. We have shirts. Not sure if they’ll be big enough though.” I eyed his massive chest. Even if we did have ones that would fit him I made a mental note to make sure his was a size or two too small. Yummy.
“Well, I’ll be careful. I highly doubt I’d find size 16 steel toes at this hour.”
“Seriously? 16? I have to order mine from a catalog because I can’t find them in my size either. Who knew we’d have such oppositely similar problems? You sure you want to come to my work? It’s boring on Mondays. Lots of paperwork.”
“I’m sure I can find something to keep me busy,” he kissed me and I was grateful for being seated.
I spent a good part of the following hour talking to Chelsea. It turned out we knew some of the same people. Former classmates who were also working where she did. She seemed like a naturally nice person and I was glad to have met her.
“You ready to hit the road?” asked Elsu, finally. I’d been ready since before it was decided we were going out.
“Yup.” I smiled. We said our goodbyes and I headed toward the door.
I walked out into the chilly air and noticed Elsu must have gotten caught up by someone because he was no longer beside me. I stood waiting for Millard to pull the car around when I realized quickly that a few of the local news outlets had apparently gotten wind of the team’s desire to have a celebratory post-game drink. I stepped back toward the door and out of the way so I could stay out of the line of photography fire.
“Mae!” I sighed.
“What, Carl?” I asked as I turned to see him approaching me from the crowd of paparazzi.
“How are you? I was just talking about you to these fine people. Come on over here and officially introduce yourself to Elsu’s fans.”
“No, Carl.”
“Oh come on, this will be a good test. Prove to Elsu that you’re capable of being his representation.”
“I am not his representation, Carl.”
“But you are. When he’s not around, people will be asking you what you think of his performance. Come on,” he placed his hand on my back and tried to lead me away from the door. I tried to retreat to the bar to figure out where Elsu had gone but by now the camera and microphone-toting crowd had noticed me.
“Mae-Belle Rogers?” my name was like a horrible song on stereo speakers in a compact car. Bouncing off metal and glass from the building in every direction.
I looked toward the bar quickly. “Elsu isn’t going to save you now, Mae. He’s busy,” whispered Carl.
I glared at him. Elsu’s disappearance was definitely no accident. “Fine.”
“Go ahead, guys. What would you like to ask Mae-Belle?”
“Mae,” I attempted a correction but knew it was worthless.
“Mae-Belle, what do you think of Elsu’s blocking game?”
“His blocking game?”
“Yes Mae-Belle. His blocking game. Do you think he has the agility in his large frame to be what the team needs?”
“Ummm,” I felt the first bead of sweat form on my brow.
“Mae-Belle, how has his performance so far compared to his performance at the end of last year in Phoenix?”
“I wasn’t a fan when he was in Phoenix,” I slapped my palm across my mouth.
“So you’re just a fan?”
“No! I’m not a fan!” I buried my forehead into my hand.
“You’re not a fan of Elsu’s? Your boyfriend? Who’s your favorite player, then, if not Elsu?”
“I don’t have a favorite…damn.”
“It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it?” asked Carl.
“Do you think he’s going to make a good point guard?” asked one of the reporters.
“He does well.”
“So you think he m
akes a good point guard?”
“Yes,” I said as I looked to Carl for help, even though I knew he would never offer any.
“Has he ever played point guard, Mae-Belle?”
“Uh…yes?”
“According to his stat sheet he has never played point guard, Mae-Belle. Do you even know what position Elsu plays?”
“Ummm,” I looked over my shoulder again. Instead of Elsu I saw a crowd of onlookers watching me digging my own grave.
“He’s a great player,” I blurted out.
“That’s a given, Mae-Belle. But you think he should be a point guard? That’s generally a position for a shorter player.”
“I think he can be whatever the hell he wants to be! He’s better than any of you, isn’t he?” Like water off a duck’s back, my attempt at a cut went without concern.
“Coach Burns was quoted as saying Elsu is past his prime. Do you think that’s a good thing for a head coach to say?”
“Coach Burns? When did he say that?” I honestly didn’t know the name of the Whoopster’s head coach. I’d seen him but never really paid attention to his name.
“Coach Burns, Mae-Belle. You do know who Coach Burns is, right?”
“Yes?”
There was no doubt I was sweating now. I felt a trail of water weave its way down my temple and to my jaw. Where was he?
“So Coach Burns is Elsu’s coach?”
“No! Or…yes. I don’t know!”
“You don’t know who the coach of the Whoopster’s is?”
“I…I…”
Just as I was certain I was about to pass out from the humiliation, I felt my arm being tugged and I was pulled from the crowd by Millard. “Where’s Mr. Benjamin?”
I wrapped my arms around Millard’s elbow and started to wipe away the first tears. “Millard! I don’t know!”
Millard glared at the paparazzi behind me and then locked eyes with someone. “You!” he yelled. I turned to see he was staring at Carl.
“What, Allan? Mae-Belle here was just answering some questions for the press. It was completely innocent.”
I stood behind Millard and whispered the name ‘Allan.’
“That’s my first name,” said Millard over his shoulder.
“Oh, I thought Millard was your first name,” I mumbled.
“Nope.” He returned his attention to Carl and before he could start, a large form blocked my view of him.
“What the hell is going on here? You!” Carl found himself pinned to the wall of the bar by nothing short of pure, enraged muscle. “Why do I have to keep repeating myself to you, you asshole?” He grabbed Carl’s collar and held him still. “If one Drop of whatever you did out here gets out, your ass is mine! Fix it!”
“Elsu! Elsu!” The crowd started calling for him to answer questions.
“No comment!” he bellowed.
“Your girlfriend is not a fan of yours! How does that make you feel?”
Elsu turned to look at me as I clutched Millard’s elbow harder.
“She thinks you should be a point guard!”
“I never said that!” I yelled.
“She doesn’t know the coach’s name!”
They continued to throw questions at him based on the answers I had just given moments ago and the three of us quickly made as straight of a bee-line as we could to the Escalade where we climbed in and I finally breathed.
Millard sat in the front seat and started the engine and slowly pulled away from the bar as I sat plastered to the door as far away from Elsu as I could be. Elsu pulled his phone from his pocket and I started to shake as I watched him start to send multiple texts to different people.
“Elsu,” I said. “I’m sorry!”
“For what?” he finally slid his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Answering the way I did. I didn’t mean it. I’m a fan. I just wasn’t a fan before you came and they got me all confused and I didn’t know what to say.”
“I don’t want you to be a fan, Mae.”
I froze. How could he not want his girlfriend to be a fan? “What?”
“I want you to be my girlfriend. I want you to be my partner. I want you to be my friend, and eventually, my lover. I’ve never met one fan I’ve ever wanted to know as much as I want to know you.”
“But…” I said as I looked toward Millard who quickly glanced at me in the rear view mirror and smiled.
“But nothing, Mae. I have a ton of fans. I only have one Mae.” He reached for my hand as it was nervously twirling the drawstring into a twisted knot. “Mae, look at me.”
I did and smiled as another tear fell.
“Fans are fickle. Yes, there are some who are loyal, but if you screw up too much, fans will find new players to be fans of. I’m going to screw up. I’ve never been in a real relationship before. So I need to know that you’re going to be ok with that, because I’d be terrified if I caused you to go find someone else to be a fan of. Does that make sense?”
I smiled and nodded. “But what about those questions? I should know that stuff.”
“Eh,” he shrugged. “If you want to know, I’ll tell you. But right now, I want to get home. I still want to have that conversation we put off from earlier.”
I grinned. I had nearly forgotten. I wanted to have that conversation, too.
CHAPTER 5
Once we were back at home I went with Elsu to his apartment so he could get his supplies for the night and change into his sweats and a jersey to sleep in. His Uncle Richard was already in bed so he worked quickly and silently so as not to wake him.
Soon after, we were at my apartment and I looked at Arnold’s door. I could hear the TV playing through it so I knocked.
Arnold appeared wearing his robe and some tattered underwear. Thank God for elastic! “What’s up, Mae? It’s awfully late for a Sunday night bitch fest.” I smiled at him.
“Hey Arnold, I brought you your paper. Sorry about the elevator.”
“Eh, it’s not your fault. Get your coupons.”
“I already pulled them out,” I said as I waved the shiny ads at him.
“Any good ones in there?”
“Haven’t had a chance to look yet. I just wanted to let you know that there’s a chance Bart is back on the warpath.”
“Bart? Your Bart?”
“My Bart? No. He is not ‘my Bart,’ Arnold. But seriously, keep an eye out, ok? Him and his brother, Jeremy.”
“I don’t think I ever met Jeremy, did I?”
“I can’t remember if you did or not. He looks like an older Bart.”
Arnold lifted his wooden cane and waved the hand-carved handle at me. “Can I beat either one of them with this?”
“No, Arnold. You cannot beat him with that.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“The point is Bart’s been in prison for 5 years, who knows what he’s learned since you saw him last.”
“Ok, I’ll behave. Elsu, Brent called and said that he and those other guys on your team…”
“Peter and Saul?” asked Elsu.
“Yes, Brent, Peter, and Saul would help me to my doctor’s appointment tomorrow. The four of us should make heads turn at the office!” I think he liked the idea of having three pro players as his chauffeurs for the morning. “Thank you, young man. You’re a good person.”
“See, Arnold? Not everyone is out to get you.”
“All but 3.” He smiled and closed the door behind him. I knew our neighbor, and my best friend, Colette and I were the other two.
Once in my apartment I could tell that Elsu’s housekeeper, Magdalena had cleaned some more. The dirty clothes I had thrown in my hamper were now clean, folded neatly, and stacked on my bed. “Elsu,” I whispered. “I feel really bad that Magdalena is doing all of this for me. She really doesn’t have to.”
“Don’t worry. She’s getting paid to, it’s fine.”
“What?” I said louder than intended. “You are not paying her to clean my apartment!
” I quickly whispered.
“I couldn’t take her off my payroll or I’d lose her. So I’m paying her, she’s doing what she thinks she needs to do to earn it. She’s cleaning my pad too. Don’t get upset.”
I didn’t know how to reply. I knew how much he valued her. If he didn’t pay her, she’d have to find another job. So, her cleaning the apartment she was living in didn’t seem like such a stretch.
“You’re spoiling me,” I said finally. “A girl could get used to this.”
Elsu smiled and wrapped his long arms around me and squeezed tight. “So, I’m a point guard?”
I smacked his chest but stayed in his embrace. “I thought you said it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t. I just find that of all the positions I could be, that’s the one you put me at.”
“I didn’t put you at any position. They asked me in a way that made me think you were…and I didn’t really know what you were…and I don’t know the difference from one position to the other…” Lips. Luscious, full, warm, soft lips. They were on mine. Elsu pulled back and looked at me.
“Stop. If you want me to be a point guard, I’ll be a point guard.”
“But you’re tall. They said point guards are short.”
“We really don’t play by positions. Coach Wilhelm has us playing the court different than Coach Burns did.”
“Burns?”
“Yeah, Coach Burns is the head coach in Phoenix.”
“OH!”
“Oh?”
“They said Coach Burns said you were past your prime. I thought they meant the coach of the Whoopsters.”
“Really? He said that?”
“I have no idea, Elsu. I don’t think anything they said was true. Carl put them up to it.”
“Yeah, I was right behind you when we were leaving the bar. Then I got stopped by a fan who wouldn’t let me pass. He kept trying to stall me from leaving and it suddenly struck me that we may have gotten separated on purpose.”
I lowered my head. “I’m sorry.”
His huge hand lifted my chin and I looked into those golden eyes. “Stop the ‘sorries.’”
“I’m just so new to all of this. I should have stayed closer to you and maybe we wouldn’t have gotten separated. I should have done my homework on you and the game, I should…” Lips. Again. This time there was tongue. I pushed myself into him and felt the weight of my body being supported by his embrace.
