“Okay, I’ll let you get on.”
I left her and thought back to when we first met. They really had started off on the wrong foot. But hey, here I was trying and I was just looking forward to getting tomorrow out the way.
Later she left with Hilda, talking excitedly about going shopping for a new eyeliner. That was one thing about women I didn’t get. How could they be so excited about something like that?
I got my clothes ready for tomorrow. I didn’t want anything extravagant so turned down the option for a stylist. I’d been doing shows long enough to know what to wear and what suited me. That was always one of my dark-colored Boss suits. Only Boss made suits tailored to fit my height and build the way I wanted. I took out a black one from my wardrobe and added a white shirt and a tie with blue specks on it.
The landline rang as I was about to sort out my shoes. It would be Dad. I listened out for the rings until it kicked on the answer machine, then came his voice.
“Hey son. It’s me. Just seeing how you are. I’ll be watching your show tomorrow. Let me know if you need me to come by. I’d like to support you and be there.” I marveled at how Dad always tried to sound cheerful. “It’s Clarissa’s birthday on Sunday. I just wondered if maybe you’d like to come with me to the cemetery. We can get some flowers and maybe do something. Pete will be there. I’d like to see you too.”
I stilled.
An uncontrollable tear ran down my cheek. I’d been so wrapped up in this show that I forgot it was Clarissa’s birthday on Sunday.
I’d never forget when her birthday was, as in the date. It was more of the case that time was so jumbled in my mind that I just got from one day to the next on a whim.
I walked over to the phone and picked it up.
“Josh,” Dad said.
I opened my mouth to answer but found it too difficult. We hadn’t spoken since the funeral and there was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t. And I couldn’t go Sunday. Pete was Clarissa’s fiancé, who was still so in love with her and distraught by her death. How was I to face either of them?
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so, so sorry.” That was all I could say.
“Josh.” Dad’s voice filled me, but it was too much to bear. “Joshua, my boy… it—”
I hung up the phone and sank into the despair that would normally overtake me at this hour. It was like a thick blanket of darkness.
I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of rum from the pantry. It was the only medication for this problem, and the only way I knew how to deal with the oncoming grief that would accompany the despair that filled my soul.
* * *
Amy
* * *
“Hey sweet girl,” Mom said in her warm, soothing, southern accent.
“Hey Mama, are you okay?” I called her the minute I got back. I hadn’t managed to speak to her last night because Tristan said she had a rough day from a bad cold.
“I’m better. I even managed to tend to the vegetables patch.” Mom did sound more cheerful.
“I was worried.”
“I know. Don’t be.”
I sat on the edge of my little bed staring at the flashing police lights outside. Earlier there were gun shots and screams, which enhanced the discomfort I felt in being here by tenfold. New York could be rough, and I’d lived in a lot of places where I had to continuously watch my back, but this place was by far the worst.
Focusing on Mom was giving me the distraction I needed and also the strength to be positive. Josh had made the miraculous turn around I was praying for and it looked like tomorrow was going to go really well. Today was great. The easiest day I’d had since working for him. It was like what I first imagined.
“I’ll get the money tomorrow, Mama. Make sure Tristan organizes everything from your end.” Tristan had a tendency to procrastinate.
“Amy, it still doesn’t sit well with me that you’re doing this. Maybe we should pray more and let the good Lord decide which path he’d like me to follow. It all costs so much.” Mom’s voice shook. “And you’re giving up a lot for me.”
“Don’t think about that, it’s no trouble.” There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. Even when it wasn’t in my power. “Just please make sure you guys get everything in order.”
“We will. Just be safe, and take care of yourself. I worry about you so much. And I miss you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, Mama.” I pulled in a breath against the tears that threatened to come.
I was the one who normally sorted everything out. Tristan was great, but his lazy ways could get the better of him sometimes. Add my niece to the mix and that would cause delays. With this deposit, Dr. Carson would start her on a treatment plan in preparation for the surgery. He’d explained that would mean running multiple tests over a course of a few weeks to evaluate and anticipate any special needs Mom might have. Mom was diabetic and took medication for that on a daily basis. Since she would have to stop her medication she’d need close monitoring, and since she was also what they deemed to be a high-risk patient she’d need extra care around that too.
Mom was in a very delicate position and any little thing could cause something to go wrong. That was what made everything even more worrying.
“I love you, too, baby girl.”
With that we said goodbye. I took several more breaths and steadied my wild-beating heart. I wished everything wasn’t so hard. I wished it was just a little easier. It didn’t help that I was shattered from tiredness. I might not have minded the early morning wake up so I could leave this place, but it had still taken its toll on me and I was tired.
I thought that since Josh had had a turn around and woke himself up this morning, I’d give myself an extra hour or two tomorrow. If I got to his place by eight we’d have plenty of time before they had to leave. I’d message him to let him know and give myself a chance to sleep.
I got up a little earlier than I had planned and took my time to get ready. I chose one of my business suits and had my hair back in a ponytail to look more professional. This would be my first public appearance as his PA and I had to admit that going to the ESPN’s studios was quite exciting.
My excitement, however, sank as I opened his door and the intense smell of rum hit me hard. So hard it burned my face from the harshness.
I nearly screamed when I saw Josh passed out drunk on the living room floor. At least ten wine bottles surrounded him, along with a mixture of rum and vodka.
“No!” I shrieked in fright, bringing my hands up to my mouth.
This wasn’t happening.
Just looking at him shattered my insides and tore at my already-weakened mind.
He couldn’t have been so cruel to have done this. Yesterday he’d progressed so much. Now look at him.
I kicked off my heels and rushed up to him.
“Josh.” I shook him hard but there was no movement. “Josh.”
Still nothing, and it was after eight. I thought I’d see him dressed and ready to go like yesterday. I thought today would be a breeze, but I was foolish to let my guard down.
I understood his bereavement and depression, but this was…
My heart clenched at the sight of a thong on the floor near the fireplace and I wondered if whoever left it there was still here. The sight of him and it angered me as I thought about our crazy encounter the other day. I’d dropped my guard then, too, and nearly became no better than his harem of women and admiring fans.
That was, however, nothing in comparison to my worries right now.
How was I going to get him to the studio?
And if I didn’t I could practically kiss that money goodbye and Mom wouldn’t be able to start treatment.
I shoved him hard and that was when he stirred.
“Baby, what are you doing?” He could hardly talk. He struggled to open his eyes.
“Wake up.”
He looked at me and blinked several times. “Can you pay the strippers? I think there were
two or possibly three of them.”
“Wake up!” I screamed at him and caught his attention.
He wasn’t going to do this to me. This wasn’t going to happen. I would get him there even if I had to dress him myself.
I moved with lightning speed up the stairs and into his room where I found his clothes all laid out on the bed. He’d actually prepared them.
So what happened?
Maybe he had a change of heart or something. I grabbed the clothes and some towels I could dampen to wipe his face.
He’d drifted off to sleep again by the time I got back so I got some cold water and doused him with it just like the other day. However, unlike the other day it didn’t have the same kick. He only woke up a little, just enough for me to get him to sit up so I could wipe his face and run the towel over his hair to get the brewery smell off him. As I started undoing the buttons on his shirt he smiled and reached for my waist.
“That’s more like it, Kansas. I want to take my time to undress you and relish your perfect body.”
Well at least he could form words.
I moved his hand away but he only returned it. Instead of fighting with him I just focused on getting his dirty clothes off and the new clothes on.
I managed to get the shirt off and evade his attempts to kiss me.
“Josh, I need you to focus. We have to get to the studio.” We were already late.
“Why are we going there, baby? Let’s just go someplace nice. Just you and me. Perfect Amy.”
This was ridiculous, and crazy.
“Josh, think of football. Think about football. We need to go. Please stand up.”
“Football.”
He seemed to consider this and looked like he’d just remembered something, then tried to stand. I took the opportunity to help him. He was able to get the pants on but no more. He sat on the sofa holding his head.
“I can’t do it,” he muttered. “Baby, I’m sorry I can’t do it.”
I wanted to feel sorry for him but my annoyance took over. “Yes you can.” I grabbed the jacket and helped him get it on, and did his tie.
All he needed was shoes and we’d be ready. He didn’t look as sharp as I would like, but he was dressed.
Since I knew I would need help, I grabbed that phone book on top of the fridge and called Corey. He said he’d look out for us when we arrived.
I just hoped like hell I could pull this off.
* * *
Josh slept the whole journey there. I allowed him to with the hope that it meant he would wake up when we arrived. In the meantime, I tried to keep my fury under control.
I couldn’t believe he would do this. No matter what had happened he knew we had to be here early today, and if we weren’t it would jeopardize everything. Absolutely everything. I doubted that if he knew my situation it would have mattered to him, but surely he cared enough about himself to worry that he’d be cut from the team.
Maybe they wouldn’t cut him off. Maybe that’s what he thought, but if he did, why then did he make such an effort yesterday. It didn’t make sense. My feeling was that he would get cut from the team, he just didn’t think of the impact when he decided to drown himself in booze last night.
I hated relying on people. In my life, I’d never done myself any favors by putting my trust in anyone. My father was to blame for that. When I was little I used to believe he could do anything, and that as long as he was there everything would be alright. I wouldn’t suffer or go through any form of disappointment.
I remembered the last time I saw him.
Like Josh, he was drunk then, too. Always drunk and off-his-face wasted. At the time, we lived in a little house in West Atlanta and I remembered him having the worst argument ever with Mom. My father took everything she earned. He spent it on booze and women. My mother knew this but still gave willingly. That last day, with that terrible argument, he just walked out of the house with his bags. I ran after him. I was only eight years old at the time. I threw my arms around him, told him how much I loved him, and begged him to stay. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough and he just picked me off him like a bug and tossed me into the heap with the garbage. That was what I was to him.
To this day I still remembered how I felt as I watched the back of his pickup truck drive away, never to return.
Those feelings gave me a rude awakening and served as a reminder to never trust anyone.
It was just a shame that I had to be forced to place my trust in Josh. Someone as selfish and self-centered as him. Because of him my mother might die.
Panic rose in my throat at the thought and I could barely control the wheel as I entered the grounds of the studio. I could see Corey waiting for us, and Zelda.
And, another official-looking man. I parked near them and they all came over to me.
“Hey, you okay?” Corey asked. At least he looked genuinely concerned. Zelda, on the other hand, took one look at Josh and her face darkened with rage.
She looked like how I felt.
“Amy, this is Coach Simpson.” I took a deep breath as I looked at Josh, asleep in the car. I got out and walked around to the passenger side of the car to open the door.
“Has he been asleep the whole time?” Zelda asked.
I looked up at her and nodded. I was too afraid to talk because I was so angry I could spit fire.
“We’re on the air in twenty minutes,” Coach Simpson said. He, too, did not look pleased.
I lowered to Josh and tried to shake him. I felt that maybe if I tried again I could wake him up, maybe the sound of my voice would annoy him enough to wake him up and tell me off the way he normally did.
“Josh, please wake up. Please,” I said close to his ear.
“Hey, why don’t we try to get him out of the car,” Corey offered.
I was grateful for the suggestion. “Thanks,” I told him.
He took Josh’s arm and managed to move him around. Once he had Coach Simpson on the other side the both of them lifted Josh to stand. The action made him stir and my heart leapt as I watched him move his head.
“Come on, buddy. You got to wake up,” Corey said.
Josh didn’t reply. He did move his legs, though, and he was able to walk with their assistance.
I was really trying to be positive.
I was really trying my best, but this wasn’t looking good. Yes, he moved, but he looked terrible. He couldn’t go on TV like that.
They managed to get him inside the studio and place him on a chair, but to my horror he fell asleep again!
“Has he been drinking?” Coach Simpson asked me.
“Last night,” I said, hoping that would help in some way for them to keep trying to wake him.
“Josh, wake up, son. Joshua.” He attempted to shake Josh but there was nothing. He stood up, looked from Zelda to Corey, and said, “This is no use. He’s no use to us like this, and it’s not right to keep forcing him if he doesn’t want to play anymore. Get him to rehab.”
No, no they couldn’t do that. I knew he wanted to play. I hadn’t known him long enough but I knew he wanted to play. Possibly more than anything. I’d seen it in his eyes when I laid down the terms of what we’d be doing going forward. I saw it in his eyes just yesterday.
And if he went to rehab, that would be it for me. I’d practically be signing my mother’s death certificate. That thought switched something in my brain and ignited the rage and anger that boiled within me. It surged mye forward and I took hold of his shoulders and shook him.
“Wake the hell up, Josh. Wake up.” Nothing. It was like he wasn’t home, and he had that stupid expression on his face like when he stared at my breasts and licked his lips. The fool was probably dreaming about sex. That wouldn’t surprise me. It did anger me, though, and just like that time when I found out Tristan was being bullied at school I lost my sanity.
Back then I was about twelve, now I was thirty-three and had had so much happen to me. So much just in this last month.
A
ll I knew was I raised my hand and slapped him across his face with everything in me, and again across his other cheek with the back of the same hand.
“You selfish son of a bitch, wake up. Think about someone else besides your damn wretched self,” I heard myself cry. “Wake up! I did not put up with your crazy shit for this to happen. I put so much effort into you. Wake up if you want to play football.” I must have slapped him six times in total, hard. So hard it left a red mark on his face. In the process of the seventh he caught my hand as I was about to give it to him again and held my waist to steady me.
“I’m awake.” His eyes stared into mine, wide into mine. Wide awake.
“Lord Jesus,” Corey cried, moving me back.
“You’d better call on Jesus because he just saved your friend,” Zelda commented.
Josh let go of my hand and released me . He then stood up on shaky legs and looked around. Zelda and Coach Simpson looked at me with shocked but amused expressions. I, however, tried to calm myself and steady my heart.
“You up for this, son?” Coach Simpson asked, resting his hand on Josh’s back.
“Yes coach.” Josh nodded and pulled in a deep breath. He looked back at me and frowned at me. I frowned back.
“My face better not be red, Kansas.” He ran his hand over his face.
His cheeks were bright red and had finger marks, too. He looked like he’d had a run in with wolves. I opened my bag and took out my touch l’eclait concealer.
“Use this, and next time don’t piss me off.” I tossed it to him and he caught it. He then walked ahead with Coach Simpson while Zelda and Corey lagged behind to talk to me.
“It seems I was wrong about you,” Zelda commented, her bright green eyes sparkled with interest.
“What do you mean?” I panicked thinking I was still doomed despite my efforts. I was completely aware that I’d just practically attacked Josh and I knew that it was a terrible thing. My skin buzzed from the anger that hadn’t rescinded.
“You’re perfect for this job. You know how to handle yourself, and it looks like you know exactly how to deal with him too. I’m totally impressed,” Zelda replied.
Play of Love: The Gladiator Players Box Set Page 9
