A Life Worth Fighting

by Brenda Kennedy

  Walter walks up and gives me a big hug. “I missed you, too, Leah.”

  I hug Gus and Dad next. “You had nothing to worry about, Leah. I brought him home in one piece.”

  “I can see that and I appreciate it, but I can’t help but worry. Ace, don’t you ever scare me like that again,” I say in between kisses.

  “I’m sorry, Sweets.”

  When he finally puts me down, I inspect his hands — his knuckles are red, of course — and he has to bend down for me to examine his face. The man towers over me. I cup his cheeks and turn his head side to side. I can see the laceration above his right eye and his eye is beginning to darken from a bruise. He has some redness on his right cheek. “Say ‘ah,’” I say and he laughs.

  “What?”

  “Say ‘ah,’” I repeat and he does. I look inside his mouth. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I don’t see anything alarming.

  He smiles and asks, “Are you done?”

  I smack him on the arm and smile, “I am.” I watch as he stands tall.

  We have lunch together before we part.

  Alone with me, Robert asks, “So, did you decide to have a party to celebrate my win?”

  “No, I decided not to have a party.”

  “Really? Are you feeling all right?” he asks, sounding concerned.

  “I feel great. I thought about having you a party, but then I thought some alone time would be a better idea.”

  “Alone time?” he grins.

  I laugh and say, “Yes, as in you and me, alone.”

  “I know what alone time means. Just me in you.

  Robert opens the car door for me and I ask, “Did anything unusual happen during your trip?”

  He is quiet — and looks as if he does not want to tell me something — as he shuts the car door. I watch as he walks around the vehicle and gets into the driver seat.

  “Buckle up.”

  I do and ask, “Robert?”

  “Yes, Leah?”

  “Ace, don’t lie to me.” I take his hand and look at him more closely.

  I ask, “What happened?”

  He looks at me and hesitates before saying, “After the fight I went for a walk and… there was this girl.”

  I know Robert has a kind heart and is very protective of women. I also know that I am very protective of Robert. I look at Robert sadly and say, “Robert, I know you want to, but you can’t risk your life to save everyone.”

  “Leah, they cut her and then they were just there watching her stagger away. They were just waiting for her to collapse and die.”

  I watch him, and I can see the sadness in his eyes. “What about you, Robert? Who will save you? You can fight well, but what happens if they cut you?”

  “I can take care of myself. I hate seeing these innocent women being beaten, raped, and battered by… by these cowards.” He looks from one of my eyes to the other and adds, “If I see it, I can’t turn a blind eye, Leah. I can’t just walk away like it isn’t happening.”

  I swallow and I try to find the right words before speaking. “I get that, I do, but Robert, I worry about you. What’s going to happen if they come at you and you can’t protect yourself? What if you’re greatly outnumbered or if they have a gun?” Tears form in my eyes and I look away. “I don’t want to get a call saying…”

  “And you won’t.” He holds me to his chest and runs his hand up and down my arm. “Sweets, you won’t get a call about me, I promise.”

  “You can’t promise me that.”

  Later that night, we eat together. The mood surprisingly is relaxed and happy. It doesn’t seem forced like I thought it would. Robert holds my hand beneath the table. He often looks over at me and smiles. He sits on my right side so I don’t have a view of the injury to his right eye. He’s a smart man and I know he did this intentionally.

  Robert says, “In the middle of the fight last night, your dad was his cellphone.”

  “He was? Who was he talking to?”

  “Damned if I know. I’m thinking that maybe he shouldn’t attend any more fights.”

  “Oh. You’re going to fire my dad?” I ask.

  “Not fire him, exactly,” Robert says. “Maybe just not invite him anymore.”

  “What did he do after he got off the phone?”

  “He got my iPod and blasted ‘The Eye of the Tiger’ into my ears.”

  “Your favorite song. The song that always rejuvenates you?”

  Robert looks at me and smiles, “He was talking to you on the phone, wasn’t he?”

  “He was. Still want to fire him or uninvited him?”

  “No, I always did like that man,” Robert says.

  “Good choice.”

  Robert takes a bubble bath with me. I light candles and the atmosphere is soothing. I cuddle into him and he kisses me. We don’t talk about the fight and I try not to flinch or show any emotion when I look at his injuries. We make love before bed and we sleep intertwined with each other.

  The next day, Robert and I have a leisurely day at home. Robert is 6’2” and weighs 230 lbs. He has black hair and ebony eyes. I am 5’2” and 110 lbs. I have short black hair and my eyes are also ebony color. We met in high school and have been together ever since. When I was in high school, I was on the girls’ track team. Some guys in the grandstand were making comments about my boobs bouncing when I ran and Robert went up and hit them both and then he made them apologize to me. That is how I met Robert.

  A few days later while I was walking home, a guy flashed me and some friends. I started laughing and yelled for him to come back because I couldn’t see anything. The girls and I laughed as he ran fast and far away from us. We hoped that from then on, he wouldn’t show anyone his shortcoming. The next week, Robert walked me to my car and we started dating soon after.

  Our first date was spent at the gym, where Robert showed me boxing moves and punches, aka self-defense moves. He also gave me some self-defense tips that I well remember. Some of his tips are very simple but very effective. For example, hair spray can be a very effective Mace, so a travel-sized can of hair spray in a purse can be a good idea — if you have time to get to it.

  Robert told me that a friend of his carried a small but sharp knife in her purse. When a date would not take no for an answer, she got out of the car. He followed her, so she pulled out the knife, held it against his crotch, and said, “Do you want me to cut it off? Remember: No really means yes.” Later, she talked to Robert, and then Robert “talked” to the date.

  He also told me that his favorite comedians, The Three Stooges, just pretended to poke each other in the eyes, but obviously, when that is actually done, it is very painful. And if it is done by someone with long fingernails, it can give the attacker a heaping helping of hurt, perhaps permanently.

  He also told me that often the best things to do are to scream and run away. If you have to kick off your high heels to run, it is a small sacrifice no matter how much the high heels cost. Don’t wear tight skirts that prohibit running. If you do, hike up the skirt so you can run. (Robert’s favorite fashions are the ones that allow women to take protective measures.) And screaming lets potential heroes know that you need help.

  But I am — and he is — aware that sometimes you are the one who has to take action against the attacker. For example, sometimes you have to take action to protect other people — especially loved ones — although usually the best thing is to call the police. Robert told me a story about Susie Essman, who played the extremely foul-mouthed Susie Greene on TV’s Curb Your Enthusiasm. A creep grabbed her 16-year-old daughter’s bottom once in front of her. She got in between her daughter and the creep and screamed at him and called him every filthy name she knew. The creep ran away — fast. She said later, “I went crazy on him!” Her daughter told her, “You just Susie Greened him.” She replied, “Let that be a lesson for you! You Susie Greene anybody who does that to you!” Sometimes women have to do the work that is normally done by avenging angels who carry fl
aming swords.

  Anyway, that is the kind of person Robert is. He can take care of himself, he wants the people he loves to be able to take care of themselves, and he wants the people who need help to get help.

  I went off to college, majoring in business while Robert stayed in Florida working on his boxing career. We married during my fourth year of college. It was a small, intimate, summertime beach wedding on Siesta Key Beach at sunset. We had our daughter, Jamie, two years later. She was our pride and joy.

  Robert

  Leah and I have a quiet day at home. After losing our daughter, Jamie, in an automobile accident, me leaving and turning to drugs to conceal the pain, and then me giving up the drugs, I feel like I will never have enough time with Leah. Losing our only child was and still is devastating. Jamie’s room is just as she left it the morning she died, just over three years ago. Leah and I can’t bear the thought of going in there. We leave her bedroom door closed and live our lives with a piece of our heart missing.

  We go for a swim, soak in the hot tub and have dinner outside. Leah showers before bed and comes out wearing a red and white silk boxing robe. I have to do a double take because at first it looks like it’s my boxing robe. She smiles and stands in the doorway wearing a silk robe, slightly open in the front, exposing her red bra and panties. “Nice robe.” It’s the only thing I can say. My mouth waters and I have to swallow. She looks hot as hell standing there and I can’t look away. My dick is hard and is now tenting the sheets.

  “Thank you. I bought this for you,” she smiles and does a 360 turn-around so I can see the back of the robe. The back of the robe says, “Bobby, the CHAMP, Grether,” in bold black letters. She faces me and slowly lets the robe fall to the floor. Her body is tanned and toned with just a few light stretch marks on her belly that are a remembrance of our little Jamie. She stands there, wearing a red satin bra, boy-cut panties, and a dimpled smile. She wiggles her hips, smiles, and raises her arms in the air before turning around again. On the back of her panties is the word “CHAMP” in bold black letters. Before she can turn completely around, I jump out of bed and rush over to her. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She screams and laughs at the same time. When I carry her to the bed, she continues to kick and scream. I swat her on her butt and she lets out a yelp. Slowly, I lower her to the bed and kiss her neck, breasts, and lips. I lean back and remove her panties, never taking my eyes off of hers. I kiss my way up her body, kissing her hips, belly button, ribs, breasts, and neck. While leaning over her, I taste her mouth with my tongue as I slowly sink into her.

  Making love to my wife always feels like the first time with her. I love her more than life and I swear this will never get old. When she is 65, white-haired, and wearing an old bathrobe, she will still look sexy to me.

  When we are done, I kiss her before I go into the bathroom. I see a test strip in the trash and pick it up to read it. Two lines? I walk over to her, holding the test strip and smiling. “Either you’re pregnant or you’re ovulating.”

  “You’re a smart man, Ace, and no, I’m not pregnant,” she says.

  “Is this from today?” I ask, showing her the strip.

  “It is. Why?”

  I throw the strip away, walk over to her, and prop her butt in the air with some pillows. She laughs and says, “Robert, what are you doing?”

  “I’m speeding up the process; don’t move.” I stand up and walk around the house, naked. I get a couple bottles of water, a book, and her cell phone, before returning to the bedroom. To my amazement, she is still propped up on the pillows.

  “Good girl.”

  I open the water and give it to her before I lay her book and cell phone beside her.

  “Robert?”

  “Yes, Leah?”

  “I can’t stay like this.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because… because I feel exposed.”

  I look at her and smile. “I like you being exposed. Are you cold?”

  “No, but I’m… exposed,” she says, laughing.

  “Maybe I can help.” I down a bottle of water before I lie down beside her. I prop a couple pillows under my ass, too, so we are both exposed. She looks over at my semi hard-on and laughs.

  “Don’t laugh; you know it grows.”

  “Shut up.” She throws a blanket over us and I am grateful. Now I understand the “feeling exposed” part. We lie on the bed and she reads while I surf the net on the laptop.

  “For this to work, you’ll need to stay like this for 12 hours.”

  “Let me see that,” she says, reaching over to grab the laptop from my hands. “I can’t stay like this for 12 hours.”

  “Relax, I’m kidding.”

  “Good, because I have to pee.”

  “Wait a few more minutes. I have fast swimmers.”

  “I hope so,” she says, laughing, “Because I have to pee, now.”

  Leah and I have sparkling cider to celebrate my win once more and to also celebrate life. We make love again and I hold her close as we fall asleep. I dream of my beloved, Leah, and my baby girl, Jamie, and that dreadful day that took her away from me, forever. Leah and I were taking Jamie to the zoo on a Saturday morning. Jamie was so excited. Leah had dressed her in a bright yellow checkered sundress with white sandals. Her long brown hair was in pigtails. Leah was looking beautiful like Jamie and was also wearing a yellow sundress.

  I looked at Jamie in the rear view mirror playing with her stuffed rabbit that she had named Jack. She looked so sweet and happy. I remember Leah touched my hand and I thought she had the softest skin I have ever felt.

  We were almost there when a car ran a red light and hit us on the driver side. I heard metal, sirens, and screaming.

  “Daddy, I have to go.”

  “Jamie, stay, I need to make sure you are all right. We had an accident.”

  “Daddy, I need to go. I love you and Mommy so much.”

  “Where are you going?” I try to open my eyes, but they refuse to open.

  “I need to go with Grandma. Daddy, it is so pretty, and you should see all the pretty flowers.”

  “Jamie, don’t leave me, I love you,” I cry.

  “I love you, too, Daddy. Grandma is waiting for me. Take care of Jack for me.”

  I feel something warm and wet on my face. I taste something metallic in my mouth. “We need a body bag,” someone yells, and the sound of that zipper echoes in my head.

  I wake up to Leah shaking me. “Robert, Robert, wake up.” I blink a few times and try to calm my racing heart. It wasn’t just a dream, it was a memory.

  “Were you dreaming of the accident?” Leah asks. She looks frightened and sad.

  “No,” I lie. “It wasn’t the accident,” I say again to try to reassure her. “Go back to sleep, Sweets.” I kiss her and hold her close. I know there won’t be any sleep for me tonight. When I am certain Leah is sound asleep, I get up and head to the basement.

  Leah

  When I wake up, Robert isn’t in bed with me. I look at the time on the cell phone: It’s 4:30 a.m. on a Sunday and it’s still dark outside. I used to panic when I would wake up and he was gone. I go into the bathroom, put on my robe, and make me a cup of coffee before heading for the backroom. The song “The Eye of the Tiger” is on repeat and Robert is taking out his frustration on the speed bag. I sit on the chair and watch him. My heart breaks for him. I remember he had a nightmare last night, and I know he was dreaming of the accident that took our Jamie from us. It still haunts us both. When the song pauses to start over again, I say, “You can’t bring her back, you know.”

  He wipes his sweaty forehead, removes his gloves, and walks over to turn off the music. “I wish it had been me. I should have died that day, not her.”

  I watch as he drinks from a gallon jug of water. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t your time.”

  “Why, Leah? Why was it her time? Why didn’t God take me and let her live? I lived my life. She was three years old for fuck’s sake.” />
  I cry and say, “I don’t know why, I don’t have those answers. God, I wish I did. I miss her, too, Robert.” I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my robe. “I didn’t have enough time with her. I wanted longer, I wanted more time to love her.” The tears are a steady stream and I can barely see.

  Robert comes over and picks me up and carries me upstairs to bed. Although he is sweaty, I don’t care. We make love until the sun comes up. We both mourn for our little girl. Making love to Robert makes me feel alive and it makes me forget about the constant pain in my heart.

  We shower, I make a casserole for the church potluck, and then I toss the sheets in the washer before heading out the door for church. We walk into the church and I see Molly and Adam first. Molly and Adam are newly married and I like them both a lot. I hug them both and Robert hugs Molly next and shakes Adam’s hand. Robert takes the casserole and puts it in the church’s kitchen before we sit down. Alec, Emma, Raelynn, and James join us.

  “Hi, kids.”

  “Hi, Miss Leah,” they both say.

  Emma rubs her big pregnant belly as she sits down beside me. I look over and ask, “Is he kicking?” I always try to respect a pregnant woman’s space, but there is just something about a baby kicking in utero.

  “Do you want to feel him?”

  I nod and gently place my hand where she says he is kicking. After only a few moments, he kicks and my heart stops.

  “That is amazing,” I admit. “I loved it when Jamie would kick me.”

  No one mentions Robert’s black eye and I am grateful.

  Adam stands and preaches today’s sermon: “A New Life Brings New Meaning.” We listen intently to the sermon and Robert holds my hand continually. Sometimes he’ll squeeze my hand and I have to smile. We both want a baby so much and the sermon today brings us hope. After the service, we stay and eat. The church offers a potluck once a month, and we always try to participate in it.

  Chapter Two: Two Months Later

  Robert

  “Is it one blue line or two?” I ask, not looking at the stick.

  “I don’t know, and I’m scared to look,” Leah says, laughing.