by Love Belvin
I snickered to myself. My eyes fell to turn off the faucet when all the soap had been rinsed off. Three sticks caught my attention instead. But it wasn’t until I saw two lines in all three that I froze, leaning over the fucking sink.
“The fuck?” I thought out loud, picking up two then the last and holding them in in the air.
Were these Mandee’s? Why would she be up here in Parker’s room? I kept personal shit over here I didn’t want stranger’s having access to. They had to be hers.
Or is Parker gonna try it?
My heart started jumping on my lungs. I couldn’t breathe for a minute and I started to feel wet all over. I was sweating everywhere, including my fucking eyes! Dropping the sticks where I stood, I went for my phone in my pocket and shot a quick text to Fats.
Me: Come scoop me fuckin’ now!!!!
I felt sick and the room spun. Knowing I didn’t drink that much, I panicked and my hand grabbed the wall to keep my balance. My eyes closed to a tight ass squeeze and I tried controlling my breathing like I did when working out.
What the fuck is she doing?
“Rut,” I heard her behind me, and at first, I was scared to open my eyes. I didn’t want to see anyone other than the Parker I knew. Or thought I knew. “You okay?”
Slowly, I did open my eyes. I didn’t feel dizzy anymore but could still feel my stomach spinning. Two of the sticks were near my foot and I leaned to pick them up. Holding them in the air, I finally turned to face her.
Parker’s lashes batted. I could tell by her neck movements she swallowed.
“These yours?”
It took her a minute to respond. “I’m so sorry about this. I took them just before you came to pick me up.”
“Why?”
She jumped a little, but I ain’t give a flying shit. I felt…betrayed.
“For a few reasons. Those hot flashes—”
“C’mon, Parker! Who the fuck takes pregnancy tests for hot flashes?” I cocked my head to the side. “You set me up?”
Her eyes flashed wide and a tear fell. Then another.
Her lips shivered and that fucked with me. “Why would I do that, Rut? Why would I set you up in any kind of way?” she whispered.
“You tell me! I’ve been strapping up. Only one time I slipped. Ya birthday wasn’t even a month ago and you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?”
She licked her lips, taking a deep breath. “That was my frame of thought at first until I remembered—”
“Remembered what? I was there every fuckin’ time!”
“Remember the first time? The night of Eli’s part—”
“Maaaaaan,” My face went tight. I wasn’t trying to hear that bullshit. I remembered that night well. “I strapped up all that ni—”
My eyes went down to my sneakers.
“Before we had sex, when you…masturbated over me…” she whispered, the tears thick in her voice kept her from finishing, but I knew.
I remembered being so caught up, I wanted to show her what I was working with and make it memorable by stroking my cock in front of her. Problem was, she was so fucking into it, looking innocent and sexy, I got turned on too much and busted on her.
“Shit.” I threw the sticks in the sink, feeling sick all over again.
I’d just signed two endorsement deals, had been struggling with the coaching staff on my team, and on top of that, stressing about leaving her for three weeks, knowing Wright’s kids had been fucking with her. I couldn’t do this and a fucking baby!
“How the fuck somebody ya age get pregnant?” I yelled from the bottom of my damn gut.
Parker blinked more tears, but her shoulders squared up and her face went tight. “How the fuck somebody in your position at the top get somebody pregnant?”
For the first time, I heard the Waterbury in her.
Was this a game for her? It sure as hell wasn’t for me. I felt betrayed. Fucking pain like never before. This was it. This was that trust shit going all wrong. This was what I had been avoiding with bitches all my life. Takers. They were all fucking takers. Including Parker.
I swung around her, leaving the bathroom. If I stayed a minute longer, looking in her face, the confusion I now struggled with would be just as loud as the pain.
The pain in his eyes would haunt me for the rest of my life. I could read eyes, could communicate using them only. It started with my grandfather. It was how he disciplined me without hands. Then it sharpened years later with Jimmy. Optical articulation was how he’d been surviving for the past few years. And with Rut, right now, his pain was palpable in his eyes and body. He looked sickened and betrayed. That lashed at me fiercely as he rounded me to leave the bathroom.
I watched his thick, lanky frame built like a grown man hold the child in him as he tromped toward the door of my bedroom.
“I won’t chase you…” that last word barely escaping the cry breaking through my lungs.
Rut turned to me, seething with dripping disdain. I needed him to know. He may have been having a tantrum now, but I was the girl that never forgot. The one who bore the lashings enough to know to remember the offenses of my adversaries. I didn’t fall back in harmony as easy as others.
“I wouldn’t advise you to waste your fuckin’ time.” He didn’t turn back as he spoke.
~Nineteen
“Good,” the physical therapist’s voice sounded genuinely encouraging. “You’re doing well, James.”
I sat in a chair near the doors of the room and watched with tense limbs. Physical therapy was arduous for those with limited mobility, it could be similar for someone with less than that, too. I was happy but not content. No amount of exercises would improve mobility for a degenerative disease like ALS. However, these techniques, out of his bed, hopefully helped to lessen the rate and intensity of muscle cramping. It also possibly kept nerves plugged into muscles and protected them from further deterioration. Anything to decrease his pain made me happy.
I watched with rapt interest each movement the therapist made, hoping to emulate it in his absence. The doorbell ringing stole my attention. I ambled quickly to the door, wanting to get back to Jimmy and therapist right away.
I don’t know why Fats’ towering stout frame caught me off guard when I opened the door. He texted me last night, asking when he could he come by and pick up Rut’s glasses. He apparently needed them up at training. It had been three days since Rut stormed out of here like a man on fire. I hadn’t heard from him and neither did I expect to.
Even if I was that kind of girl, I wouldn’t have had the time—didn’t have the time—considering the past few days with Jimmy. Two days ago, when another fever plagued his body, I had the mind to go to the emergency room where he was admitted. And that set off the usual presence of his children in the hospital where they fought amongst themselves—mostly James Junior and Sherry—about better care for Jimmy. The doctor ordered him to stay overnight where they aggressively fought the fever until it broke. Again, they could find no reason for it.
So I’d been by his side, keenly watching him and his expressions to see if I could find some correlation. I almost canceled this physical therapy session until his doctor insisted on it, wanting to be sure it wasn’t related to muscle cramping. I’d even called out of work today to be here while his session was happening. I told Nurse Jackie to take the day for herself. She could stop in to take his vitals and go on about her day. Because I’d been obsessively monitoring Jimmy, I’d honestly forgotten Fats and I agreed on him stopping by this morning to pick the glasses up.
“Oh.” I blinked a few times before my brain kicked into gear. “The bag’s in the kitchen, give me a minute.” I waved him in, not expecting many words from him.
Fats didn’t speak much other than to Rut, but he never bothered me or had been particularly rude. He stepped in and stood off to the side as I left for the kitchen. My phone rang in my hand on the way. With one glance, I saw it was Jade calling.
“Hey,” I answered.
<
br /> “Hey, girl. Everything okay on that end? I didn’t see you in church last night.”
“Oh.” I rolled my eyes, realizing I never told her I wouldn’t be making it. Earlier on in the week, I arranged for Mandee to be with Jimmy last night, as I did on occasion, for Bible study on Thursdays. The problem was, I’d canceled with Mandee and didn’t tell Jade. “I’m sorry. I’ve had the week from hell. I forgot to let you know I wouldn’t be there.”
I made it to the kitchen grabbed the bag I packed with more than Rut’s glasses and turned for the foyer again.
“I’m sorry to hear about that. I was looking forward to it.”
“Yeah, my car broke down on me again.” I hadn’t decided to share the rest of my nightmare with her.
I wanted to get back to Jimmy.
“Again? What’s the problem now?”
As I made it back to Fats, the front door was opening. Sherry stepped in and glanced around, quickly taken by Fats’ burly frame.
“Jade, I have to go. I’ll call you later to fill you in.”
“Okay—”
I lowered the phone before tapping to disconnect. Sherry’s eyes located me as I made it to the door.
“Oh!” was all she said at first.
“Everything okay?” I borrowed Jade’s words, not knowing how else to break the ice.
Sherry tossed a glance to Fats as a nervous grin spread on her face.
“No.”
“Okay?” I was standing in front of her.
Sherry handed me an envelope. “This is for you.”
“What is it?”
She turned again to Fats, who I’d completely forgotten until she did. “You can read it.”
Although I accepted the envelope, I pushed. “You can save me the time so I can get back in there with Jimmy before his therapy session is over.”
Again she turned to Fats, clearly uncomfortable with his presence or saying whatever she had to say in front of him.
“Parker, those are papers I’m serving you about your eviction.”
My neck jerked back. “What?”
“This is why I told you to read it. You have to go. We have a new medical team that will be transferring Daddy to a facility where he’ll receive round the clock professional care.”
And here it was.
“Is this about those pictures?”
“It’s about that and more. This should have never been. We let our father make his own call and respected his wishes. Now things are getting out of control. You’re all over social media with a rookie. That just doesn’t look good, Parker. He’s been over here, spending the night and doing god only knows what here while my father’s health is constantly failing. It isn’t ironic to you how two days after you were frolicking around with Amare and leaving him with the neighbor, he was hospitalized? Again?”
Just as it happened after the Young Lord concert, pictures were released on the blogs of Rut, Jordan, Cole, and me at the Brielle concert. The original story ran by Spilling That Hot Tea was about Jordan and how he and his wife were dating so soon after getting married. It was a sweet spin. The B side was the fodder of the rookie, Rut Amare, being spotted again with the unknown woman.
And in true Spilling That Hot Tea fashion, they’d found my name, age, and connection to the Kings. Considering I was the thot fiancée of the sick King alum, who apparently had a thing for football players, Jordan’s syrupy tale of wedded bliss was doused with hot sauce. Add to that the “fact” of Rut and Emily dating and he’d obviously cheated on her again with me. It was ridiculous and was the main point of contention in the hospital amongst Jimmy’s children.
Between finding out I was pregnant, being betrayed by an intimate friend, having my personal life exposed and edited for entertainment, and Jimmy’s failing health, I had no strength in me for this routine battle with the Wright children. I couldn’t do it anymore. I’d have to fail Jimmy, too. Expelling a breath of defeat, I shook my head with closed eyes.
“When does this take effect?”
“August first,” Sherry’s voice was strong. “you have to go.”
“That’s next Wednesday! When’s this transfer supposed to happen?”
“Monday morning.” She gave a firm nod.
I took a deep breath. The physical therapist sauntering from Jimmy’s room caught my attention. That’s when I remembered Fats. Shaking my head again, I handed him the bag and opened the door for him to leave. Fats moved according to my lead.
When he was outside, he turned to me. “You good, Parker?”
I snorted. “Just dandy.”
Then I closed the door to deal with my new reality.
I rubbed my dry eyes, feeling miserable. I was hungry, tired, and stressed the fuck out.
“Now, by a show of hands, tell me who always seems to get into it with their wife or girl before we have to go away to these training camps!” Deacon, a tight end, stood from his seat and shouted around the Hibachi table they had set up in the lunch room. “Show of hands…” he pushed for people to answer.
I looked around the room to see mostly everybody was paying attention, surprised they could actually hear with so many people in the joint.
“And no single dudes with just jump-offs,” Mitchell, an offensive lineman, added, laughing. “Them bitches don’t count!”
Everybody started laughing and even I snickered at that.
“Yeah. None of y’all wild ass cowboys, who fuck a different one every night,” Deacon laughed. “Yeah, like Amare! No threesome Kings!” His face turned red as shit.
Jordan slapped my shoulder, cracking the hell up.
Lazily, I smiled. “Fuck you talking ‘bout, bruh?”
That made them laugh even louder.
“You know. You played college ball with my girl’s cousin. He stayed with those wild stories! The one when you made two cum at the same goddamn ti—”
“Aye!” I shouted over him. “Easy!” I laughed but wasn’t good on talking about my dick in groups.
“C’mon.” Deacon brought our attention back to him as the chefs chopped, squirted, and sautéed in front of us. “Raise of hands!”
I was shocked to see so many go up. Jordan and Trent’s were a few of the last.
“Told you!” Deacon pointed to Mitchell, who nodded as he laughed. “It’s like some weird cosmic alignment that happens so you don’t get fucked before you’re locked away with nothing but men for three damn weeks!”
A few shouts and laughs confirmed his theory.
“I swear,” Mitchell spoke up. “I cleaned out the damn garage, made sure the pool was in good condition, and even fixed her mother-in-law’s goddamn kitchen sink leak. And I’ll be damn if she didn’t start bitching about the closet being too messy the night before I left!”
The grouped laughed again. I shook my head, so disconnected from these complaints.
“What’s the newly wed arguing about?” Deacon nodded over to Johnson.
“Yeah?” Mitchell looked shocked. “Pussy should be overflowing for you.”
“Hey, I ain’t say it wasn’t. My answer was the stupidest ass fights occur right before any camp. This one was about cutting the birth control. I’m ready to fuckin’ multiply.”
“Ahhhhhh!” a few of the guys sang like they’ve been there before.
“Yo, you kidding me?” Trent seemed shocked as he looked at Jordan.
“I wish the hell I was.” Jordan laughed.
“Yo, Jade put me on knock two days before I left, calling me insensitive and barbaric,” he put on a whiney voice. “All because I said we should start trying again.”
The table was in sync with their response to that, too.
My eyes went crazy wide, something I didn’t think was possible considering how tight they were. This topic was blowing my mind. Who the fuck wanted babies when there was so many Ms to get?
“C’mon, man.” Jordan chuckled. “You know yo’ ass better chill with that and be grateful for my lil’ Ava Nese. Calm your raging sold
iers in there. Jade ain’t ‘bout that baby machine life, bruh.”
“She my wife now. She better be about our family,” Trent argued playfully.
“You know if Jade Bailey ain’t about shit, she about the business of keeping TB straight,” Jordan made clear.
The conversation went on and I mentally stepped out, not believing what I was hearing. They were yapping about wanting to get pregnant. And here I was, hoping the one I knocked up hadn’t smashed my glasses into small pieces. It would be, at best, a week before I could get a new pair. And I didn’t have an eye doctor in Connecticut yet so the distance shit would be inconvenient.
Leaving Parker’s place the night before camp the way I did had me forget my glasses. I’d been needing them but had been too damn stubborn to do anything about it until yesterday. My eyes needed to breathe.
“You and your lady got issues?” Something about the greasiness in that tone called me back to the table. I looked up and down the row of bodies across from me. “You, Rut.” Grant’s smile was slick.
My phone on the table rang. I looked down and saw Fats’ name.
Then my attention went back to Grant’s corny ass. “Her gratitude for choosing my cock over yours. She can’t stop praising His name.”
I grabbed my phone, knowing I was wrong…knowing anybody who knew Parker went to church would catch the jab.
I made sure I walked far enough away from them before I answered. The way my stomach turned while I answered reminded me of the way it flipped each time I thought about Parker since the night of the concert.
“Yeah?”
“Some crazy shit,” Fats’ voice was calm, but his word play had me feeling some kind of way. “Wright’s daughter came through while I was there…”
They were still there.
As I hauled my fourth garbage bag of clothes down the stairs, James Junior was at the bottom of the step speaking on his phone and Jerry was a few feet away tapping away at his. No one spoke. Not even the sheriff’s officer, who arrived at seven o’clock, saying he had to be sure I left without issue.
I struggled with the bag all the way out to my car. The car that was almost full when I still had lots to load from my bedroom. It amazed me the amount of stuff that could accumulate over just a few short years.
