He would have responded. If the dizziness didn’t take over again.
She walked from the room and disappeared before he could say anything more. Not that he knew what else to say. He knew he didn’t want to leave her like this. But she was right. And he had to leave.
“Shit.” He stood for a minute feeling raw, staring at the shining ceramic kitchen floor. He looked at his shaking hand half expecting it to be bloody too, before raking it through his hair to steady himself. Then he finally moved to go.
“You still here?” He turned to see Bonnie walking into the kitchen from where Roxanne had disappeared. He gave her a quick smile he didn’t feel.
“Have some coffee with me.” She poured some in a cup.
“No thanks. I was on my way out. I have to go.” He moved toward the back door.
“So I heard,” she said. He wondered how much she’d heard.
“You did? Then tell her for me I’ll be back.” He nodded at the older woman. With his legs barely functional, he walked out the door.
As he gripped the stick shift of his Porsche winding through streets of Marblehead, he was thankful that he’d taken the sports car. Manipulating the five speed stick gave him something to concentrate on. He didn’t want to think about Roxanne’s question, so he thought about why he’d said he’d be back. He didn’t know, but he felt a lot better having said it.
He shouldn’t go back.
He would.
Chapter 19
“LINDY, ANGEL, I’ll be going to the west coast for a couple of weeks,” Barry said.
“I know. Roxanne gave me a Celtics schedule. She told me all about it.”
“She did, eh? Did she tell you how tough it’s going to be to win out there? Especially knowing you’re back here?” He didn’t want to sound anxious, but he felt it. Roxanne had done a number on him that morning. Or maybe he did it to himself. For the first time, he felt unsure about leaving Lindy. He felt unsure about whether he should play basketball rather than stay by his little girl’s side. The stabbing pain of his decision had sharpened with each minute since his talk with Roxanne. No matter that he reminded himself of Dr. Oki’s insistence that her surgery could wait and he wouldn’t miss anything with his road trip.
Lindy giggled. The sound relieved some of his tension and he took a deep breath.
“When I get back you have to have another operation. A big one this time. But Dr. Oki thinks it will be your last one.” He didn’t know how to act. Should he should be serious or upbeat? What kind of thing was this to talk about with a little girl, anyway?
She sighed and it spoke volumes.
“Okay. No more talk of this stuff. You do your best to stay as healthy as you can and have as much fun as you can. Too bad my games will be on late at night so you won’t be able to watch them,” he kidded.
“Oh yes I can! Roxanne said she’d DVR them for me.”
“She did, did she? When exactly did she tell you this, angel?” He tried to sound casual.
“Oh, that’s right. It was supposed to be a secret that she came to visit me. But it’s all right if you know the secret, Daddy.”
“Yeah. I won’t tell.” He stood and looked around the room. How could he? Roxanne was their champion. He shouldn’t be feeling this resentment right now. Then again, sometime, not too far into the future, Roxanne would have to let go of Lindy and he’d be on his own.
“Daddy, when can I come home?”
“Soon. Very soon.”
“I’ll be living at your house all the time now? Not going back to Mommy’s and Paul’s? What about my room? My pink bear?” Her voice cracked. A teardrop spilled before she swiped her hands across her eyes.
“Angel, honey, you can bring your bear and all your things to my—our house. And you can go visit Paul any time you want.” He took a deep breath. “But Mommy doesn’t live there anymore and she never will. Remember, she lives in heaven now.” He steeled himself against the soulful look she gave him. “But she lives in your memory and in your heart, too, angel. You can keep her there forever.” He moved toward her and gave her what comfort he could through the plastic. He knew he couldn’t remove it every time she cried. And now she sobbed. Like he wished he could.
It wasn’t until he got to the shoot-around, barely in enough time to dress, that he saw the pictures on the front page of the Boston newspaper. Barry had barely stepped through the gym door when both reporters and teammates assaulted him. He grabbed one of the papers being waved in his direction.
“Shit. They took me out of sports and put me on the God damned front page.” He skimmed the headlines and the articles and tried not to dwell on the two pictures. One was of him leaving the Garden with the police. The other was of Roxanne with Detective Turner. The headlines read, “Barry Dennis Questioned in Millionaire Murder Case.” The innuendos and speculation in the articles about Roxanne, and about Lindy’s custody, were even more alarming. He threw the paper down next to him as he sat in the bleachers, surrounded by reporters.
“Don’t you guys have better things to do on New Year’s Day?” He didn’t bother trying to evade them and decided he’d rather get this over with now, before he started practice. The coach walked over in his direction.
“Are you going to be allowed to leave town and go on the west coast trip with the team?” a reporter asked.
That question caused his head to snap to attention. He glared at the reporter who’d asked it. It was Pat Banyan of the Herald. He held his tongue. For the moment.
“Has there been any talk of arrests? What did the police ask you about? What exactly is your relationship with Roxanne Monet?” one reporter asked, louder than the rest.
“Did she do it?” another reporter asked. They all paused and waited for some answers.
Barry waited for his coach.
“Can I talk to you in my office? I’m sure this session can wait a few more minutes.” Coach’s voice was quiet, pleasant, and he even smiled at the press. He must be scared.
Barry got up and followed the coach back out of the gym. He glanced at the reporters. A couple of his teammates were watching. He was very careful to keep his game face in place. That game face was turning out to be a handy thing to have in everyday life. But it was coming in handy too often.
The coach closed the door behind them and didn’t bother to sit down. “Are you coming on the West Coast trip?” he demanded.
“Yeah. I’m not a suspect. The police didn’t tell me not to leave town, if that’s what you’re getting at. Let me tell you Coach, if I was going to stay behind it would be because my daughter is having a surgery, not because of this fucking murder case bullshit.” Barry reached for the door.
“Give me a minute will you, Dennis? Don’t get upset with me. I didn’t create this situation. You knew that woman would be trouble from the beginning. But the organization, myself included, thinks it would be wise if you stayed as far away as possible from her in the future.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not the kind of thing I have to be told by my employers to do. I’m a big boy. This won’t affect my basketball.” That last statement was said automatically, but without the usual conviction he felt about it.
The coach nodded his head. “How is Lindy doing?”
“She lost her mother, she’s been in the hospital for five months and she has to have another major skin grafting operation. How the hell do you think she’s doing?” Barry opened the door and walked through it. The coach followed quickly. Barry turned. “She’s doing a hell of a lot better than I am, Coach.” Barry walked back into the gym.
After telling the reporters that it was all baloney, not in so many words, Barry was never so glad to sprint onto the basketball court to begin his shooting practice two hours late.
After practice they headed for California.
When she opened the door and saw Tim Oki standing there, with Laura, she knew it was something big. Dr. Oki never visited. Naturally, with everything that had gone on in the past weeks, s
he assumed it would be something bad. Roxanne was so preoccupied she nearly forgot to let them inside.
“Hey, it’s cold out here,” Laura complained.
“Come in.” Roxanne took their hats and coats.
“This is ridiculous,” she said out loud. They looked at her. “What are you two doing here? Nothing else could possibly be wrong.” Hands on hips, she dared them to defy her.
“Nothing’s exactly wrong, But there is …” Dr. Oki stopped and looked at Laura.
“We came to cheer you. We have some good news.” Laura looked at Roxanne and took her hands. “Tim and I are getting married.”
The relief that flooded Roxanne mixed with an overwhelming combination of surprise and joy as she squeezed her friend’s hands. She felt like crying.
“I shouldn’t be so shocked. This is wonderful! The best news I’ve had in I don’t know how long. When you come to cheer someone up you don’t fool around.” She clasped Laura in a sincere hug and then turned to Dr. Oki.
“I have to say I’m envious though.”
“No, don’t say that. He may change his mind, “ Laura joked. “You’re his hero for saving his research project, you know.”
Roxanne smiled at the doctor and then hugged him.
They all walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. All the conversations she’d ever had with Laura and the doctor about marriage and its ills came to her mind. Tim had been divorced too. He’d always been more married to his job than to his wife.
“You do know what you’re getting yourself into here?” She aimed her eyes at Laura’s, ignoring the doctor for the moment.
“Don’t start giving me all your down-on-marriage talk. Not now.” Laura looked serious.
But Roxanne had to say what she had to say.
“What makes you think you can handle marriage to a man dedicated to his career any better than Tim’s first wife?” Her voice was soft. She watched her friend’s smile fade. She heard the doctor suck in a breath, but a quick glance in his direction told her he’d half expected this reaction and was ready for it.
“That’s hitting below the belt. I thought you were happy for me?”
“I am. I want to be happy without reservations. Laura, I want you to reassure me that you’re going into this with your eyes wide open. The doctor’s first wife was no lightweight and she failed.”
“I’m not going to fail. I know what to expect.”
“What?” Roxanne demanded. Both she and Tim looked at Laura. Roxanne felt as if this was an important test and that her friend’s entire future hinged on her answer. Roxanne could do nothing for her friend but hope for the best.
Laura turned to Tim. “I know he loves me.” She took a breath. “But I also know he loves his work more.”
Tim started to open his mouth but Roxanne shot him a glance that told him to shut it. Laura continued on with more confidence, now looking at her.
“I know I’m settling for only a piece of a man, but don’t scoff at me because it’s a piece of a very special man. And it’s worth more to me than a dozen merely adequate men.”
Roxanne breathed. Why couldn’t she feel that way? It sounded so simple, so easy. “I’m really glad to hear you say that.” She leaned forward and hugged her friend hard. The tears that fell were all for them. She hoped and hoped with all her might that Laura would be happy.
She thought of Barry. Then she squeezed her eyes shut tight, forcing him out of her thoughts. Stepping back, she swiped away her tears. “When?”
“Tomorrow,” Tim said.
“But you were supposed to be doing a commercial shoot on the West Coast for the new campaign…” Roxanne looked at Laura.
“That’s where we need your help.”
“Laura, you know I’d do anything for you, but I’ve been fired from a volunteer job with the hospital for pity’s sake. How can I possibly…”
Laura interrupted her. “Harry and I’ve arranged for you to be on the payroll of the advertising firm doing the shoot. It’s all set. But that’s not the real problem.”
“The real problem is Lindy,” Dr. Oki interjected.
“What is it?” Her heart pounded with a vicious jump.
“No, nothing too bad, but her operation has been moved up. We’re only taking a two-day honeymoon as it is, and we need you to bring Barry back for Lindy’s operation. It’s extremely important that he be here for her.”
“I checked,” Laura said. “He’ll miss at least two games. But it can’t be helped.” Laura confirmed.
“It’s very important that he be here, Rox. I can’t stress that enough. We figured you could convince him. So that’s why we’re sending you. Consider it a mission.” Dr. Oki smiled as he handed her an airline boarding pass printout. A quick check confirmed one passage to L.A. and two for the return. It was a grand setup, she had to admit.
“There has to be something you’re not telling me. Why the change in the date for surgery?” The drumming of her heart started up again.
“It’s not that bad. It shouldn’t be a problem at all. She had a slight fever and we got it under control. We have to do the surgery while she’s stable. To wait two more weeks as planned would risk another infection and another delay.”
“Of course I’ll go.” She didn’t tell them that she had no influence on Barry. But maybe they were all wrong about him. Maybe he wouldn’t need any convincing to drop everything for his daughter. She looked at the airline printout again to realize the flight was the red-eye tonight. The commercial shoot was for tomorrow at the LA Forum after practice and the return flight was a red-eye the same night. Maybe she wouldn’t have time to be distracted or worried about what he or anyone else would think. The thought of Detective Turner flashed through her mind and she didn’t give it a second take.
It didn’t matter. Some things were too important. Lindy Dennis’s health was one of them. To hell with what Barry or Detective Turner or reporters or anyone else.
Arriving at the Los Angeles Forum with her entourage of two cameramen, a production assistant and a director, Roxanne was set to play the role of producer. It was something she’d enjoyed doing the few times she’d had the opportunity in the past. They walked out onto the blindingly lit court to be met by the Lakers’ PR man.
“Celtics’ practice will be over in five, I’m told. So how do you like the Forum?” The man’s sunglasses weren’t entirely inappropriate, Roxanne thought.
“It’s exactly as billed,” she said. Cartoon colorful and cartoon real, she thought. The man beamed. They walked to the visitors’ end of the court to set up the cameras and lights with their scripts in hand. Roxanne wandered over to where the Celtics were doing last minute three-man weave drills. She strolled under the basket and watched each man execute his layup.
The coach blew the whistle and the action stopped. Roxanne could swear the coach paused to glance her way. But he was too far away to tell who she was. It didn’t matter. When she turned away, Barry stood with the ball directly in front of her, game face in place.
“Do you approve, coach?” He twisted his mouth into that painfully dear half-smile, with a nod at her baseball cap. She wore pants, sneakers and a jacket and cap with the ad agency logo, same uniform as the others from the crew. She had hoped to stay under the radar as much as possible. She forced herself to stay calmly professional even as her nerve endings jumped and her stomach flew around. She smiled up at him. Her poise would fail her if she forced too much.
“Are you ready for the commercial shoot?”
“What are you doing here, Roxanne?”
“I’m doing a job, same as you. I hope.”
He got the hint and started walking over to where they were setting up the cameras. “I don’t get to shower and clean up?” He tossed over his shoulder to her.
He sounded so formal. “In a minute.” She followed him and caught up. “The director will brief you first. After that you can get into your dress whites.”
“I don’t have my ‘dress whites�
�� with me. They’re for home games.” He stopped and looked down at her with a neutral expression.
“Don’t worry. We brought them with us. We’ve thought of everything.” She couldn’t resist throwing him a taunting smile. He remained cool as ever. She felt like slapping a reaction into him. Anything to shake out a response. He was so tantalizingly familiar and real and she longed to reach out to him. She squeezed her hands into fists. She had to wait until after the shoot to tell him about Lindy. Then he might crack and show some emotion in that robot-like façade. That was a cruel, selfish thought, she knew, but even the Tin Man showed more heart than Barry did right now.
The director finished with him. The production assistant gave him his white uniform and Roxanne watched him trot to the locker room.
“How long do you think the shoot will take?” she asked the director.
“Depends on how many takes he needs.”
“What’s your bet? Less than five?” Roxanne dared the man to guess.
“Nah. That’s tough. Even for a pro. Though he does seem to be a cool one…nah. Why? You want to put some money on it?”
“Yeah.”
“How about twenty bucks says he goes over five takes?” The man looked confident.
“How about a thousand says he does it in less?” Roxanne enjoyed the look of surprise on the man’s face.
“You’re kidding, right?”
The production assistant had been listening and laughed. “I don’t think she’s kidding. I think she knows something you don’t. Watch out. Smells like a sucker’s bet to me.”
The director looked at her again, rubbing his chin. “That’s right. You’re supposed to be tight with this guy aren’t you? All bets off, honey. Nice try.”
She flashed him a smile and shrugged. They waited a while, fussing with placement and discussing each segment, blocking out possible moves, until the production assistant returned with the star. After another quick briefing with the director, some manhandling by the production assistant and testing of the lights and camera angles, Barry perfected the shoot in three takes for each of three segments.
Playing the Game Page 30
