Pinky Promise

by HJ Bellus

  She throws the phone to me and hops from my lap.

  “Hey.” I smile and give him a wave.

  “Hello, gorgeous.”

  “Oh, shut it.”

  I’ve never looked worse in my life. Bags under my eyes adorned with black lines. No hints of make-up and ratty-ass hair, yep, I’ve never looked worse.

  “I’m serious. And I’m coming home as a champion, Queen.” His eyes light up like they haven’t in the past month.

  “I believe you, State. You told me a long time ago, when we were young kids, you’d be a world champion and I never doubted you.”

  “Baby, do you remember our pink and blue mansions with no fence.”

  “Yep.” I smile a genuine smile with hopes of the future lingering in sight. “With no fence and an Xbox.”

  “Yes, we never knew back then we’d fall hopelessly in love.”

  “I think I knew.” I wink into the phone.

  He only grins and doesn’t respond, neither I do.

  “But I’m thinking we change plans to one house with a white picket fence around it, add in Rowe and all the princess crap. Plus, I may want a dog down the road.”

  “And a cat,” he adds.

  “Possibly a goldfish,” I reply.

  “Deal, Queen.”

  “With bubblegum ice cream every night.”

  “Every night forever,” he replies.

  “State.”

  “Yes.”

  “Go kick ass.”

  “Okay, Queen. I love you.”

  “Always. Love you.”

  When the call ends and his deep pools of chocolate eyes disappear, I feel a pang of hurt for a second. Rowe distracts me by dancing around in her game day gear, chewing down on her favorite flavor of Pop Tarts. Shayne stands by her, twerking to a song playing in her own head.

  They entertain themselves over the next hour before settling down. They take their places. Rowe fiddles with her bracelet listening to all the pre-game shit. Her face turns sour when the commentators favor the opposing team.

  The pre-game intros into a special edition and the television is flooded with blue and orange. Familiar shots of the stadium come into view and then the headline flashes over the screen, “Who Really Cares?”

  Several of State’s teammates appear on the screen, saying their name, then repeating a random name after theirs.

  Coach Pete finally fills the screen.

  “Who Really Cares?” The three words flow powerfully off his tongue. “Look at my team and you’ll see.”

  Childhood pictures blast across the screen, with the players repeating names in the background. A few players are zoomed in on and share their stories of beating the system and making it to college. Their story rings true and I find myself relating easily.

  State is next on the screen in a pair of black gym shorts, twirling a ball on the tip of his fingers.

  “I’m State Blake.”

  The camera then zooms into a picture of him and Miss Tami from our elementary years. He’s sporting a black and swollen eye, but she’s smiling proudly hugging him to her.

  “She saved me.”

  He shares his story and it’s similar to the others. A child who was forgotten because of drugs and violence, and he morphs into just another victim. However, it’s a stark difference because he had her. I tune out the parts of his adoption and the years we missed together.

  He repeats. “She saved me.”

  I glance up to the screen to see us in our Halloween costume, other random selfies, and then several of him and Rowe. The last one the special focuses in on is a picture of him and Rowe. He’s wearing a crown, looking down at Rowe. The picture is an up close selfie of mostly her nose and eyes.

  “She completed my world.”

  The final picture is of all of us at the pumpkin patch with scrolling text of, In loving memory of all those who cared and saved the lost souls of the world. Miss Tami, you’ll never be forgotten. I have your girls safe in my hands.

  The tears roll. I want nothing more than to be in State’s arms hugging, kissing and loving the hell out of my gentle giant. Rowe prances around the room in a state of euphoria from seeing her and State on the television.

  “Did you see my bracelet?”

  I nod and wipe away the tears.

  The popcorn and Pop Tarts fly as we watch the game. I wouldn’t be surprised if the police come knocking any second. Our offensive is aggressive. Their defensive rises to the occasion. But by the second half, it’s our defense scoring the points. State has several sacks and even tips the ball twice. Luckily, the ball ends up in his teammates hands and they run it in for a touchdown.

  The camera loves his parents. Every chance they get, they focus in on his parents and gloat about the fact State was adopted and came so far in life. A few months ago, I would’ve become ill and despaired, but tonight I smile. It’s sheer joy for State and his parents. They deserve this.

  It’s down to the fourth quarter and our offense is on the field. Ryder has had a tough game. He releases the ball and it lands into the defenses’ hand. Yet, another interception. State leads his guys onto the field. It’s evident they’re exhausted, but their will is too strong to let go.

  Two minutes. Two long, fucking, minutes are left on the game clock. I’ve learned so much can happen in football in the matter of one-hundred twenty seconds. Everything can be destroyed in that matter of time off the field, too.

  The first play, State and his men stop the run. The second play the running back gains six yards. The third play the quarterback goes back and ends up throwing away the ball because of the pressure. Shayne and I leap into the air, cheering and screaming.

  It’s not until I focus back into the television that a player is down. The sea of blue alerts me then as the coaches run out onto the field. The network cuts to commercial and I don’t say word. Shayne picks up on my nerves, so she helps Rowe in the kitchen to another cup of apple juice.

  In Rowe’s heart her hero has already won the game of his life. The score doesn’t matter to her. But to me it’s everything. State has put aside his football career to take care of us. If it’s him lying injured on the turf…my world will quit spinning.

  Commercials are over and it goes back to the game. State jumps up from the ground, waving off the coaches. Another player is lying down as well, but the coaches aren’t focused on him.

  “What?” It slips from my mouth.

  “If he’s injured and the time out is called he has to sit out a play,” Shayne replies.

  My fingers ache covered over my chest. “So, he’s pretending?”

  “Yes, he’s hurting, but is refusing to leave.”

  The offense lines up. It’s the fourth and final chance to try and tie the game. I watch State’s helmet moving, following his actions.

  “It’s the princess play,” Rowe squeals.

  I nod to her and Shayne tells her something, but my laser vision is focused in on the TV.

  “Gonna be a screen and he needs to read.” It’s the last words I hear from Rowe.

  Everyone on the line goes for the run. I watch State stall for a second and I fear he’s far worse hurt than anyone realizes. Like a predator, he watches everything before planning his attack. He leaps forward toward the quarterback when the rest of his team suckers in for the run.

  The ball is still in the hands of the QB. He feels the pressure and fake pumps once, twice, and a third time. But all of Number Seven’s cards are in…its go big or go home time. State lunges forward. He’s right leg gives out, but he still sails in the air. The seconds tick by as hours. I hold my breath. He clobbers the quarterback, but the ball is nowhere in sight.

  The fanatics in blue and orange who traveled to the game are up on their feet celebrating. The time clock has wound down. State is covering the quarterback. Game over. We win, twenty-one to fourteen.

  But my game isn’t over. I study the TV willing State to move. After a long while he rolls off to the side and I’m not sure i
f he moved on his own or was shoved off. Sprays of glittered blue and orange confetti blow up into the air.

  My man is still on the ground. He’s conquered the castle, destroyed all the dragons, and now it’s his time to live his happily ever after.

  “Just get up, State,” I scream at the TV.

  “Get up.” Shayne joins me.

  The confetti still falls and he lies there on the turf. My heart hurts and I’m ready to go pack bags for Rowe and I. He’ll need his girls.

  State rolls over onto his belly. He has several coaching staff on their hands and knees yelling into his face. In a slow motion he rises to his palms and knees. The television zooms into his face. We get a wink and a wave.

  When State stands up on his own two feet, he causes the stadium to erupt in cheers. He’s upright and walking, but I can tell he’s hurt. State holds his helmet and limps over to the bench. Coaches surround him again, then it cuts to commercials.

  “Breath, Baylor. He’s okay.”

  “Jesus,” I finally holler. “They’re world champions.”

  The three of us dance around like lunatics in the living room. The trophy ceremony plays, State’s awarded the MVP, and it’s the first time I really wished I was there. I vow in this moment to never ever miss another one of his games, no matter the circumstances.

  My phone buzzes on the table next to me. It’s State’s mom.

  Martha: I’m so happy.

  Me: You have no clue we are screaming like idiots.

  Martha: I can tell he’s dying to get off the field to call you.

  Me: Give him an extra hug for me please (sad face emoticon)

  Martha: I will, sweetie.

  Thirty-Eight

  I roll over to see it’s only three in the morning. My body refuses to relax. I drift off to sleep for thirty minutes or so, then wake up. I ended up talking to State on the phone after the game, for nearly two hours, until I forced him to go celebrate with his teammates.

  His ankle is swollen. It’s not broken, but he’s in pain. He’ll be flying home later this evening and I have a feeling this may be the longest day of my damn life. I press play on my phone and let the mellow music lull me to sleep. It finally works after several songs.

  Three hours of slumber float by. I sit up in the bed, deciding to give up on sleep all together. I run a hot bath and drop in a bath bomb. The color of the water swirls around with hues of pinks and blues, and a light shimmer. The floral scent fills the bathroom and relaxes me.

  The door to my room creaks open. so I pull my shorts back on and ready myself to soothe Rowe. She must have heard me running the water. I round the corner.

  “Rowe, why are you up?”

  I look up and come face to face with State, my number seven. He covers my mouth muffling my squeal of joy.

  “Shhhhhhh, baby. I wanted to surprise you.” He drops his bag to the floor and hugs me.

  “How is your ankle?” I kiss him. “Thank you for coming home.” I kiss him again not giving him a chance to respond. “God, I love you.”

  “Is the water running?” He finally asks pulling back.

  “Oh shit.” I race into the bathroom. The water is high, but not overflowing yet.

  I sit on the edge of the large tub and stare at State, who’s propped in the doorway with his arms raised above his head and a sliver of his abs showing.

  “My MVP.” I can’t contain my smile. “I really wanted to be there.”

  “I know.”

  “Tell me about that last play. I want all the details.”

  He steps up to me, nods for me to stand, then begins peeling my clothes off. The way his fingers move I can tell he’s exhausted. Nothing about it is a sexual gesture. I help him slip from his clothes and then watch him gingerly get into the tub.

  “I have a rub I can put on your ankle, baby.”

  He holds his arms up to me from a sitting position in the water. I carefully climb in and wonder for a second if we’re going to send a shitload of water sloshing over the sides.

  I nestle down into his lap, relax back on his chest, and let him wash the suds from the fizzy bath bomb over my stomach and up my chest. He tells me all about media week, the game, and even the last play. He said he felt something pop before he took off, and the pain was so unbearable he had to leap into the air just to get off of it.

  The sports medicine team wrapped it up and iced it. He refused to get it looked at before hopping on the plane back home. Coach Pete and his parents are pissed. Something about causing more damage to it, but State was a determined man to get back to his girls.

  “My appointment is at ten am today and then tomorrow there’s a parade for the team at one.”

  “Sounds good, baby.” I try to twist to face him, but he keeps my shoulders still. “Why are you so sad?”

  “I’m exhausted.” He leans down and traces the S of my tattoo with his tongue. “I’m hurt, broken, and sad, but mainly exhausted.”

  I hear his head fall back onto the tub wall. This time he lets me turn to him and he has tears rolling down his face. When he makes eye contact, he simply says, “I miss her.”

  “Me too, baby.” I lay my head on his chest, sink my body under the hot water, and hold State.

  Thirty-Nine

  A year and a half later

  “With the first pick of the draft Denver selects Stayton Blake. Defensive lineman.”

  I’m up on my feet screaming, and jumping up and down next to State. He rises slowly from his seat, buttons his suit jacket, and slowly smiles before he reaches down and kisses me.

  He lets it linger with his hand on the back of my head pressing us together. The thin layer of my black evening gown does nothing to hide my sheer excitement for him.

  “I love you, Baylor.” He has tears forming in his eyes. It’s pride. Years of dedication and hard work. He’s done it. He won the Heisman award and now he’s a first round draft pick in the NFL.

  “Go enjoy the light, man cub.” I slap him playfully.

  He lets go of me and reaches for Rowe’s hand. She has a bigger smile on her face than anyone in the building. The two trot hand in hand up to the podium. They’ve become a dynamic duo, on and off the field.

  State wipes happy tears away with the back of his hand as they walk up to the front. He’s not afraid to show the years of dedication flow down his face. He’s made it all happen for us. We managed to get Rowe into a simple black dress. The commissioner hands each of them a new number seven jersey with Denver’s logo on it.

  A new chapter in all of our lives. It was the hardest decision of my life, but I knew the time was coming. I told State it didn’t matter where he was drafted because I’d follow him anywhere. It was the three of us, in it forever.

  He refuses to sell Miss Tami’s house, our house for the last year and half, so he has a rental company renting it out to an elderly couple. We’re all packed up and ready to have the moving company haul our life in their trucks when we get home.

  I won’t lie, I get violently sick when I think about leaving that place. My heart speeds up and my throat dries with panic. It’s my home and always has been. I’ve had to tell myself I’m not leaving Miss Tami behind. It’s something I have to work on every single day.

  Last off-season, State and I tied the knot in the backyard with just a few friends and family. It was simple perfection. We haven’t stopped believing in each other for a second of the day. We fall into each other when we struggle and collide with happy hearts during other moments. I wouldn’t trade it for a thing.

  I focus back up at State and Rowe on the stage in their new jerseys, and placing their hats on. It’s the portrait of perfection. I grab the Yellow Seven UNO card from my purse and place it on State’s empty seat. Soon they leave the stage and return long moments later. He places Rowe in her seat and scoots her in.

  State peers down at the card before he sits and then glances up to me. He quirks an eyebrow and then picks it up. Staring to catch his reaction as he turns the card o
ver in his hands. I swear I can hear him read each word on the back.

  You’re going to be a dad.

  “Is this for real?” He doesn’t look up at me.

  “Yes, State.”

  He falls down into his seat never letting go of the card, his hand goes to the back of my head, pulls me in, and kisses me hard.

  “What’s going on?” Everyone at the table asks.

  State finally pulls away from me and looks at the rest of our friends and family, complete with his parents, Coach Pete, and his family.

  “We’re having a baby.”

  The table erupts in cheers. Not one of us cares if everyone is staring at us.

  Forty

  Saying good-bye is never easy. The house is barren. No sign of us living there for years. I peek into Rowe’s room and see her sitting cross-legged in the center of the floor.

  “Doing okay, princess?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, just staring at the one crack in the wall one last time.”

  I take a seat on the carpet and sit just like her. I’m finding simple things like this harder to do as the days float by.

  “I like that crack. I’d pretend it was the gateway to a far off fairyland when I’d play.”

  “I bet you’ll find something like that in your new room.”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “It won’t be the same.”

  “You’re right. It won’t be the same. It will be different.”

  “Yeah. I miss her.”

  “I miss her every second of the day Rowe.” I clutch her little hand in mine. “But then I remember how hard she fought to make me a strong woman and that gets me through the day.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What else is bothering you?”

  She just shrugs.

  “Spill, princess.” I poke her in the ribs that garners a smile.

  “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, sissy.”

  “It’s okay, you won’t.”

  I have a sneaking suspicion what’s coming next. She’s been thrilled about the fact I’m pregnant and never missed a beat.

  She turns to me. “You know the baby?”