by Mary Smith
Over…
“Why don’t we elope?” I twist the small diamond engagement ring around Sharon’s finger.
“That’s not very proper.” She turns up her nose. “I want a big wedding and celebrate our love.”
“Well, we can elope then on our fifth anniversary we can have a huge wedding. By then I’ll be bringing in big money from the PHL.”
She stares at me. “You really think you’re going to be drafted?” There’s a slight scoff in her tone.
“It’s my dream to be in the PHL. I’m meant to be a professional hockey player.” It’s my calling. I can’t be anything else but working in the hockey industry. “I’m going to give you the world.”
I held her in my arms, kissing her until we both couldn’t breathe. She’s my world.
“Mr. Long?”
I turn to see I’m alone except for the doctor. “Yes?” I wonder how long I’d been daydreaming and where did Hamilton go?
“All your tests came back normal. It appears you had an anxiety attack. I’ll prescribe you some medicine to help keep it under control. You should be fine.”
I’m crazy. I’ve turned crazy.
I can’t say anything. I simply incline my head, and the doctor leaves me alone in the room. I need to remind myself my girls are growing up, and I will be alone since Sharon is... gone.
After signing some paperwork, I change back into my clothing. The nurse asks me if someone is waiting for me downstairs, and I shake my head.
“I’ll take a cab.”
I see the pained look on her face as I climb into the wheelchair. The snow is coming down lightly and is bright against the lamp posts. I search for my phone to call a cab and the nurse must be freezing standing out here. I feel worse for her.
“We’ve got him.”
Just then I see Janan and Nova come up the sidewalk.
“Hammy’s getting my car,” Janan says and takes my hand. “I’m a bitch. I’m sorry,” she says sincerely.
“I’m sort of a crab ass.” I wink with a smirk.
“You both are alike,” Nova adds and the three of us laugh.
“We’re the three frogs. Always.” Janan hugs my neck.
“We’re the three frogs.” Nova hugs my shoulders.
“Three frogs.” I choke up.
Long ago when the girls were simple toddlers Budweiser had a commercial with three frogs. They loved it and went around the house—when Sharon wasn’t there—saying the tagline over and over. Soon after, I think Janan began calling us the three frogs. Sure, I shouldn’t have let my small children mimic a beer commercial, but it was too damn cute.
When times were tough, Janan and Nova would remind me we’re the three frogs.
Hamilton pulls the car up and the girls and I get in. I tell him to leave my car at the arena and take us home. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now I need to lay down—in my bed.
When we get home, Janan tells us she’ll drive Hamilton back to his truck. Normally, I’d be concerned about her driving in snow but this is New Hampshire, and it’s not that bad tonight.
My body goes stiff when I walk into the house. I see a jacket out of place. It’s on the floor. Nothing goes on the floor. Nothing. Nova notices me staring at the item and quickly picks it up and hangs it up properly.
“We were in a hurry when Hamilton called us.” She makes an excuse.
I say nothing and go to the bedroom. I make sure to place all my clothing in the correct laundry basket and set the timer for ten minutes. I start the shower but stop. My body is too tired. I turn off the timer and collapse on the bed.
I CAN’T REMEMBER sleeping this late in my life. Well, at least the past twenty years. The clock reads nine in the morning. I need to get up and shower before heading to practice. I need to get back to the ice and the Bears. I’ll be able to focus better and get my mind straight. It’s what I need the most.
When I get out of the shower and check the hockey news for the day, I don’t even look at anything related to the Bears and my “anxiety attack”. Of course, it’s all there is. Everyone is talking about me collapsing on the bench.
Like a pussy...
“You’re such a fucking pussy.”
I’m on the floor and I can’t remember how I got here. I look up and see Janan and Nova huddled in the corner—crying. The kick to my rib came and I lost my ability to breathe.
“Why were you staring at her?” Sharon screams. “She doesn’t want to fuck some dickless pussy fuck like you.”
The second kick came harder than the last with her pointed leather high heels. I remember buying them for her as an “I’m sorry” gift last week when I upset her.
It’s my fault she hits me.
“You will never look at another woman again. You belong to me, you stupid fucking idiot.”
I try to tell her she’s right, and it won’t happen again, but I can’t breathe. I’m gasping for air and trying to crawl to the girls. I know she’s about to unleash on them next. They’re so young, not even ten years old.
My babies…
My girls…
“Daddy!”
“Uncle Tad!”
They’re yelling at me, shaking my shoulders.
“Wake up! Please.” Janan’s voice sounds so far away, and I can’t see her.
“Please.” This time Nova is pleading with me. “Please, Uncle Tad don’t leave us.”
I force my eyes open, and I’m at the bottom of the stairs. Wasn’t I just in the bedroom?
“Daddy.” Janan’s big brown eyes are full of tears. “Don’t move. We called an ambulance when you fell down the stairs.”
“I’m fine.” My chest hurts. “I don’t remember falling.”
“You did.” Nova is holding my neck in place. “Don’t move. They’re coming to help.”
“I need to go to practice.” I try to move, but my whole body hurts.
“No!” They both shout at me.
“Remain still.” Nova, the quieter of them both, is loud in my ear. “You could have a neck injury. You could paralyze yourself.”
The poor girl is such a pessimist. “I’m fine.
“Stop saying that shit.” Janan, my tough girl, growls at me. “We all know it’s such bullshit.”
The sirens wail outside, and I know they’re going up our driveway.
“The house isn’t clean enough for company.” Suddenly my heart begins to race. “She doesn’t like company when the house is dirty.”
“She’s dead and the house is fine so shut up.” Janan rolls her eyes before jumping up and going to the door.
“Nova, they can’t come in the house.” Now, I really can’t control my breathing. My chest begins to hurt—just like last night. “She’ll be mad,” I whisper because I’m drowning in fear.
Fear of her…
“What do you mean people are coming over here?”
“Come on, sweetheart. Won’t it be fun to entertain for our friends? We can show off our new place.” I smile.
We just moved to Maine. Janan and Nova just turned three and I was just been traded. My last injury was an ACL tear and I know there aren’t too many seasons left in me and I want to make the most of it for the girls and me.
“The house isn’t done yet.” She pushes her hand through her hair. “I’m too busy, dammit.”
“Okay.” I hug her close to me. “I’ll tell them we can’t do it right now. I want to make my sweetheart happy.” I kiss her fully on the lips. “You mean so much to me.”
Sharon narrows her eyes at me a bit. She’s upset. Why? Because I wanted to show off my family. Nova is still adjusting living with us but doing better and not asking for my sister as much. Yes, I would have rather stayed in Indiana for a bit longer, but I understood I would be traded and I had to go to the team that wanted me.
“I don’t like Maine.”
“It’ll grow on us.”
“Whatever.”
Then she pushes me. Hard. “Sharon, sweetheart…” She’s never d
one anything like that before.
“Just go away.”
The florescent lights are bright when I open my eyes. Again the sounds of beeping monitors are around me. Janan and Nova are both talking softly in the corner to my left. I shut my eyes to listen to them.
“What are we going to do if this keeps happening?” Nova asks. “I can quit school and stay with him. Maybe I can talk to Uncle Oliver and see if he’ll let me travel with the team to help.”
“No, you’re being ridiculous. He needs professional help. That bitch fucked him up royally and he’s not dealing with it.”
“You shouldn’t talk about your mother in that matter.” Nova’s voice is scared.
“The bitch is dead. D—E—A—D. What is she going to do to us now? Haunt us. She’s burning in a special place in hell where she deserves to be.” Janan sounds tough, but I hate hearing her speak of her mother in such a way.
Sharon loved her…
“Push, sweetheart. Push.” I hold Sharon’s hand tightly. “You can do it.”
“Taddy, I can’t.” She falls back on the hospital bed. “I’m not strong enough.”
“Yes, you are. You’re the strongest woman I know. You can do this.” I kiss her cheek. “Come on, one more time and our baby will be here.”
Sharon’s sweating, crying and looks so scared. “Okay. I can do this.”
The doctor tells her to push and Sharon bears down, pushing with all her might.
“You’re doing it. You’re doing it.” I cheer her on and watch our baby be born.
But our little girl isn’t crying and the doctor quickly hands her off.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” My stomach drops and Sharon clings to me.
“Taddy, what’s wrong with our baby?”
The doctor looks over. “The cord was around her neck.”
I gasp and Sharon sobs. “Is she breathing?” I ask with a harshness I would never use.
“Taddy.” She hides her face in my chest.
“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart. She’s a Long and you know we’re fighters. We’re tough as nails.” I console my wife.
It seems like an eternity as everyone works on our baby and Sharon, who needs to be sewn up. I want to go over and help in some way, but I know the professionals need to do their job. Plus, Sharon has such a death grip on me, I can’t move. I say a prayer over and over to God that our child will be okay.
And then the best sound came…
A loud wail.
It’s music to my ears.
“She’s okay.” Sharon cries again, but these are tears of happiness.
After a few more moments, they bring over our baby, announcing it’s a girl and placing her in my wife’s arms.
“Taddy, she looks like you!” she exclaims. “Hi, baby.” She coos. “We’re going to name you Janan. How do like that name?”
Our baby’s big eyes open.
“She’s beautiful like you.” I kiss my beautiful wife
“I love her. I didn’t know I could love something so much so fast.” She kisses our baby’s cheek.
“I love her too and I love you. You did so well.”
“Taden? Mr. Long?” I open my eyes again and see a young doctor looking down at me. “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Buckner.”
“And?” I smart off. My head is killing me, and suddenly I want to be alone.
“Well, it seems you passed out and fell down some stairs. Could you tell me the last thing you remember?”
“Look, Doc.” I sit up. “I’m fine and I need to get to work. Just go and get the paperwork where I can sign myself out and let me go.” I jerk the stickers off my chest, and the machine begins to wail.
“Mr. Long, you’ve had numerous concussions in the past several years due to your wife’s abuse—”
“What did you say?” I stop with the removal of the wires and stickers.
“I looked at your medical records. Well, the past year anyway, and you have had a lot of injuries—”
“I have vertigo.” I lie. I’ve never been diagnosed with vertigo. It’s something I made up to make excuses for the bruises.
“You’re lying. I know you’re a domestic violence victim.”
“I’m not a victim!” I shout. “I want to leave and I want to do it now.”
There’s a rage pulsing through me. I’ve never felt this before, unless I was on the ice yelling at the team for fucking up. I simply pass it off as adrenaline, but this is different. I’m enraged.
“I want to suggest a few treatment options for you. I spoke to your daughter—”
“If you don’t get me the paperwork to sign, I’m going to walk out on my own. Now, we’re done talking. I want out. Now.”
The doctor stares at me for a few additional seconds saying nothing. “Fine. Mr. Long, but you have another concussion. You need rest.” He turns without any further instructions, leaving me alone in the hospital room.
I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. My heart is racing faster than it did last night, and I can’t get it, or me, to calm down. There’s a fury going through me, and I can’t figure out what I’m doing.
The nurse comes in and I turn away from her. I don’t want to lose my temper on her. She’s not done anything to me. Hell, neither did the doctor whatever-his-name is. She removes my IV and the rest of the wires plugged into the remaining stickers. Another nurse comes in and tells me where to sign to leave without the hospital’s consent. I scribble my name and they tell me where my clothes are.
I find my phone in my pocket and see how many calls I’ve missed. All from the Bears. Fuck, I’m on the verge of losing my job if this shit keeps up. I call Janan.
“Daddy?”
“I’m released. Where are you?”
“Nova and I are coming up from the cafeteria. What do you mean you’re released? Dr. Buckner said you’d be staying the night.”
“Come and get me.” I brush past the nurse bringing a wheelchair into the room. She tries to stop me, but I ignore her and step out into the hallway seeing my daughter and niece jogging up the hall. “Let’s go.” I walk past them as well and go straight for the elevator.
“Daddy—”
I glare at her because I already know what she’s about to say. “No, Janan. We’re leaving. Period.” I stab the down button and shove my hands in my pockets waiting impatiently for the elevator to open.
NOVA DRIVES US home, and I sit in the back with my eyes closed. I’m hoping they think I’m asleep, even though I know they know I’m awake and just don’t want to talk.
Once in the driveway, I practically hop from the moving car and go inside. I need some water. I grab the bottle, wipe it off with a paper towel and then I see it.
There’s a coffee cup on the counter and dishes in the sink. My heart drops.
“Janan,” I say barely above a whisper. “What is this?” I point to the sink.
“They’re called dishes.” Her smart aleck tone pushes me over the edge.
“Why?” I yell. “Why would you leave dishes like this? You know she hates it.” I dash over to the sink and as fast as I can I clean everything out. “We can’t make her mad. We can’t make her mad,” I say it over and over until everything is spotless.
As I turn my girls are on the other side of the breakfast bar staring at me in disbelief. Nova races away and goes for the stairs. I assume she goes to her room, but Janan’s eyes and mine are connected.
“You’ve really gone fucking bonkers.” She shakes her head. “You do know she’s dead right. I mean, she put a bullet in her brain, pretty sure the analogy: dead as a doornail suffices.”
I say nothing.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need help. Professional help.”
Still I remain quiet.
“Get help or Nova and I are leaving.” With those words, she turns and leaves the kitchen.
I stand there for a few seconds before double checking the sink, making sure there are no water spots and
all the dishes are put away correctly. I go to my office, but my head hurts too bad to deal with any work. I know I need to call Connor Philips the general manager of the Bears and let him know I’m okay, but again I don’t want to deal with anything. I lay on the couch in my office and close my eyes.
I do my best not to dwell on the words Janan said. I don’t need her to give me an ultimatum, but the rational side of me says she might be a little right. Then again, I can’t remember the last time I listened to the rational side of me. Normally, I kept it locked up. For years it had told me to take the girls and leave, but I loved Sharon. I couldn’t leave her. I never could leave her.
She’s dead.
I know she is, but she’s here. I can hear her with every move I make.
“Uncle Tad?” Nova’s soft, kind voice fills the room.
Did I go to sleep? My office is now dark.
“Yes?”
“Uncle Oliver and Mr. Philips are here to talk to you?”
I sigh. “Of course they are.” This is me getting fired. I worked so hard in the PHL to be a damn good coach and here it all ends. I roll off the couch and rub my face hard. Everything still hurts, but I push through and go into the living room.
Janan is standing there laughing with Oliver. He’s the godfather of Janan. He’s been in our lives for so long, the girls love him as an uncle and have loved him since... as far back as I can remember.
“Thank you for the offer, Uncle Oliver. I might take you up on it.” Janan hugs him. “Let’s leave them alone to talk, Nova.”
I watch them both leave, and then stare at Oliver and Connor. “I know why you’re here.”
“I doubt you do, Tad,” Oliver speaks calmly. “Let’s have a seat. We know you’ve had a long day.”
Connor says nothing but takes a seat on the couch. He’s in his usual black suit. I’m not sure he owns anything else. Oliver looks his normal casual self in simple slacks and a button down with a wool trench coat.
“I was planning on calling you, but I feel asleep.” I somewhat lie. Sure, I didn’t want to deal with this, but I was going to call them and explain the situation.
