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A Life Worth Fighting

Page 11

by Brenda Kennedy


  “Oops.”

  “It’s all right, Princess. Color in this one,” I said as I moved her soft brown hair from her forehead.

  “You look to be in deep thought.” I look up and Leah is standing there in a pair of black yoga pants and a hot pink tank top.

  I hold up the book and show her the pink crayon scribble marks. “Jamie was coloring.” I smile, but it’s a sad, heartbroken half-smile.

  Leah takes the book from me. She smiles, but she has tears in her eyes that haven’t yet fallen. “She sure left her mark, didn’t she?” Leah isn’t talking about the crayon marks in the book; she’s talking about the memories embedded in our hearts.

  “She sure did.”

  Leah climbs into bed and cuddles with me. I hold her with one arm and hold the book with the other. “You’ll need to turn the pages.”

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  “Read front to back or is there a story you want to hear first?”

  “Nope, we have plenty of time. Do you mind reading it front to back?”

  “Nope, anything for you, Sweets.”

  I read and Leah falls asleep in the middle of the story. Any other man would have stopped reading, but not me, I read it to the end. Just like I did when Jamie was alive. She would fall asleep, and I would always finish the story. I was afraid the next day she would ask me how it ended and I wouldn’t know. I think about Jamie and how she had her own unique look. Brown hair and light blue eyes. She was beautiful and had her mother’s beautiful smile.

  I lay the book on the nightstand and turn off the light. I hold Leah tightly and fall asleep.

  On Friday, Leah and I are sitting in the doctor’s office for her first appointment. Mom and Sue are tending to the shop because Bethany has the day off and is wedding-dress shopping. She and Kyle decided on a short engagement. When I say a short engagement, I mean they are getting married next month.

  We sit in the waiting area and Leah becomes nervous.

  “Are you all right?” I watch her as she picks at her clear nail polish on her left hand.

  “Yep.”

  “What are you nervous about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Leah?” She looks up at me through her long thick eyelashes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, just being here makes me a little anxious, I think.”

  “Leah,” a nurse calls from the doorway.

  “You’re coming with me, right?”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  I hold her hand and we walk through the doorway together. I hold her purse while they get her weight. She changes into a paper gown and sits on the exam table.

  “You have nothing to be scared about.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then please stop picking at your nail polish.”

  She stops and looks up at me and smiles. “I didn’t know I was doing that.”

  “I know.”

  The doctor comes in and asks Leah a series of questions. When her last cycle was, how many pregnancies she has had, how many living children she has. I soon get upset because everything is already in the chart. Why ask her again when you’re looking right at it in the chart?

  “How long ago did you lose your only child?” the doctor asks softly.

  “Everything’s already in the chart,” I say sternly.

  “It is, Robert, and I also see she has recently been depressed.”

  “So why bring it all up again?”

  “When people lose someone such as a child or have been depressed, sometimes it helps them to talk about it, or they may remember something that is relevant from talking about it. Also, when people talk about something, they may remember something important that they have forgotten.”

  Leah speaks softly and says, “It’s okay, Robert. We lost our three-year-old daughter almost two years ago. I went into a deep depression after that.”

  “It says you were on anti-depressants?”

  “I was briefly. I was on Xanax 0.5 m.g. twice a day as needed for anxiety and Celexa 10 m.g. every day for depression.”

  I listen to Leah talk about it and I feel responsible. Leah squeezes my hand to let me know it’s all right.

  “It’s not unusual for someone who has been through what you have to need something to help them function daily. Depression comes and goes for some people while it’s permanent for others. Medications can do wonders for a person who suffers from depression. Have you had any other moments of depression? I don’t mean just sadness, I mean, where you just couldn’t get out of bed, or you didn’t eat for a few days because of it?”

  “She had a nightmare last week about the accident and she stayed in bed for the weekend,” I say before Leah has a chance to. I was afraid that Leah would omit this vital piece of information.

  “That’s true, I did. It was the only other time I have felt like that since coming off my medicine. I don’t want to start back on medication if I don’t have to. I wanted to ask about working out since I’m pregnant. I hear that’s good for depression.”

  “Let’s see how far along you are and then we’ll talk about alternatives and treatment for you.”

  The doctor examines Leah and does an ultrasound. We hear the baby’s heartbeat and I hold Leah’s hand tightly. She measures Leah’s small belly and documents it in the chart. After the exam, Leah and I find out she is 12 weeks pregnant with a due date on November 16th. She is further along than we anticipated. We discuss different kinds of anti-depressants, and then we discuss different types of exercises.

  “I personally don’t think you need to start on anti-depressants. Truthfully, even if you were on meds, you would have shown sad emotions after having such a nightmare.”

  “Good, thank you. What about exercise?” Leah asks.

  “Exercise is beneficial to anyone, pregnant or not. What kind of exercise were you thinking?”

  “Boxing,” Leah blurts out.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m a boxer,” I say. “We have everything at home for Leah to work out with me there. She won’t be boxing anyone. She’ll be working out with the punching bags, that’s all.”

  “That is a great exercise that works your upper body and core. Of course, no sparring.”

  I repeat, “Of course, no sparring.”

  We get the paperwork for labs and the next appointment before we leave. Leah and I have lunch at the Twin Dolphins Restaurant before heading back to the shop. My mom and Leah’s mom are excited to hear about the appointment. She tells them about the heartbeat of the baby and gives them the updated due date. Everyone is excited that Leah is further along than we initially thought. I leave to go for my run and leave the girls to tend to the shop.

  Robert

  Leah asks, “How long will you be gone for your fight?”

  “Just overnight. The fight is at 8:00 p.m. and we fly back early Sunday.”

  “Where is it, again?”

  “San Francisco, California. Your dad is going, too.”

  “Mom told me yesterday that he was going. I’m glad. Since his retirement, he doesn’t get out much.”

  I look at Leah and say, “I’ll make sure to include him more.”

  “That’ll be nice, but you have only one more year of boxing then you’ll also be retired,” she reminds me.

  “Then we’ll both be bored house husbands,” I joke.

  The next morning I kiss and hug Leah goodbye. Gus picks me up and drives us to the airport. Dad and Tim are already there waiting for us. We fly out first class and everyone orders a drink but me. It must be nice to be retired.

  We gather our carry-ons before exiting the plane. After deciding to eat lunch at the hotel, we do just that. The conversation is light and flows smoothly. My parents’ anniversary is coming up and Dad says he’s planning on surprising her with a seven-night Alaskan cruise.

  “She will love that,” I say.

  “She has always wanted to go. I think she’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

&nbs
p; We order lunch and I go to the room and rest until the fight.

  I call Leah and check in on her. She tells me that she and Brooke are planning on having dinner tonight at a sports bar where the fight will be on the big screen. Leah hates me fighting, but she never misses my fights either. I think it’s a double standard, but I also know it’s her way of supporting me.

  Leah

  Brooke and I are sitting in the sports bar watching the fight on the bud screen. I’m wearing my t-shirt that has “Grether Rocks” across it. Looking around the room I am happy to see several people wearing red and white shirts, sweatshirts, and ball caps. Most of the patrons are supporting my Robert.

  My phone rings and I’m happy to see it’s from Robert. I walk out of the room and say, “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself, Sweets. Just wanted to hear your voice before the fight.”

  I can’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. “I’m glad you called, but shouldn’t you be donning your gloves by now?”

  “I am. Gus is holding the phone up to my ear for me.”

  “Robert, be careful out there. I worry about you.”

  “I know you do, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t play out there, Robert, and call me as soon as you can. I want to know that you’re all right.”

  “All right, Sweets. I will and I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Robert, I mean it. Hit him and hit him hard. Get it over with quickly.”

  “I intend to. This one’s for you, Sweets.”

  I walk back into the room and watch as Robert makes his way to the ring. He is wearing the red and white silk hooded robe and boxing shorts that Jamie and I got him for his birthday right after she was born. The phone is still to my ear, and I can’t bring myself to disconnect the call. The announcers introduce the fighters and I am happy with how great Robert looks.

  I watch as Robert’s opponent throws some punches and Robert bobs and weaves and avoids them. Robert’s first blow hits his opponent dead center of his face and the guy stumbles and falls. Is it possible Robert can knock him out with one punch?

  The room erupts with cheers as people begin the countdown with the referee.

  I look at Brooke and she has her mouth open as she watches the television. The fighter tries to stand but stumbles and falls. The announcer yells, “Robert ‘The Rock’ Grether wins by a knockout!” The crowd erupts with cheers. The fans hold up signs and scream as the referee holds up Robert’s arm, declaring him the winner. They interview Robert for a few minutes and congratulate him on his win. I watch as Robert leaves the ring, waving to his fans.

  I continue to watch the TV as the camera focuses on a man walking into the arena and suddenly getting a surprised look on his face. He had spent a few hundred dollars on his ticket, and the fight started and ended while he was in the men’s room.

  I also see Robert’s opponent stumbling as he tries to stand with his trainer’s assistance.

  Robert’s fans start chanting, “Beat Kennedy! Beat Kennedy!”

  The announcer says, “Malcolm ‘The King’ Smith was a legitimate contender to fight Kennedy, but now Bobby ‘The Rock’ Grether takes his place. The Rock’s three wins and two lightning-quick knockouts in a row against top opponents almost certainly means that Kennedy must fight him.”

  Robert

  I am sitting in a small room after my fight, and I can still hear the fans screaming my name. I can feel my heart beating through my chest. My dad and Gus are removing my gloves; usually, they need to treat swelling, bleeding, and any injuries I may have suffered. But today, that isn’t necessary. They just remove my gloves and offer me water.

  “Bobby, that was the best fight I have ever seen,” Gus says as he removes the glove from my right hand.

  “Robert, that was incredible. This is one fight that will be talked about decades from now,” my dad says as he removes the wrap from my other hand. The excitement in and out of the arena is exciting. I am hoping that Kennedy will take notice and that pressure will be put on him to fight me. Mr. Bruce walks into the room with a smile to match mine. Mr. Bruce is the man who put on the fight and has just made a considerable amount of money. He holds his hand out to shake mine. “Bobby, congratulations, man. That fight was incredible.”

  I shake his hand and say, “Thank you.”

  Gus speaks up and says, “Bobby don’t play. He came here to kick ass and that is exactly what he did.”

  “I can see that. I also came by to tell you that this fight, with that knockout, has moved you into leading contender status. It was a great fight and you have earned it.”

  “Thank you. This is great news.”

  “Well, you have worked for it and it shows.”

  “How’s Malcolm?” I ask.

  “The doctor is with him. He walked out of the ring so that’s good news.”

  I nod in understanding.

  “I also came by to see if you needed a doctor to check on you or if you needed anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “I thought you would be,” he says, smiling. “One more thing,” he says as he walks towards the door. “I think your fans are pissed.”

  “How so?” I ask in confusion.

  “They came to see a fight and I think they feel like they got ripped off.” Everyone in the room laughs. “Bobby, if you need anything, let us know and I hope to have you in the ring again, very soon.”

  I shake his hand again and say, “Thank you. I hope so, too.”

  Mr. Bruce nods to my dad and Gus before leaving.

  Gus stands up and walks closer to the door. “I think you impressed him with your flash knockout, Bobby.”

  A flash knockout is when a boxer knocks out his opponent less than 60 seconds into a fight.

  “He shouldn’t be impressed until I become heavyweight champion. That should impress him. But, wow, I would like to have the record for most flash knockouts. The most flash knockouts recorded in a professional boxing career is nine by Mike Tyson. In one fight, he knocked out his opponent, Marvis Frazier, in 30 seconds. Unfortunately, the info on the fastest knockout seems varied — it does not agree.” I look at my dad and then at Gus and say, “If I knew what the record was, I would try to beat it. All I can do is to try to get the fastest win I can.”

  I walk over to the door and look out into the arena. The fans are dispersing and the ring is empty. I shower and change into a pair of jeans, a tee shirt, and a pair of boots. Normally, after a fight I would feel like I just got my ass kicked, but tonight, no one touched me and I feel like celebrating. When I walk out of the dressing room, Dad and Gus are both on their phones so I decide to call Leah. I speak with her, Mom, and both of Leah’s parents. Everyone congratulates me before hanging up. I would really like to be flying home tonight to be with Leah.

  Once I am back home, I continue my training. My next fight, whether with Kennedy or some other fighter, will be an important one. I know that Kennedy is considering whom to fight next. That fighter could be me.

  When I finish my daily run, I see that I have a missed call and voicemail waiting on me from Gus. Maybe Gus found Kennedy. I call him back. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t listen to voicemails.

  “What’s up, Gus?”

  “You know how Kennedy’s been M.I.A.?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Guess who found him?”

  “You found him?”

  “He’s fighting in Vegas in two months and guess who has four ringside seats?”

  “You’re the man. Remind me to give you a raise.”

  “I will,” he laughs. “He’s been in hiding for training, so Vegas will be your chance to study his moves. It’s just a matter of time before you get another chance with him. I want you to be ready.”

  “I will be.”

  “Good, I’ll be in touch.”

  I shower and head over to Leah’s shop. Dad and Tim are there when I arrive. I haven’t told Leah about Kennedy fighting and that Gus and ou
r fathers will be in attendance. When I walk in the shop, I am pleasantly surprised everyone is sitting around the seating area, talking about the baby. They have coffee cups and empty muffin cups scattered around on the coffee table.

  “Looks like a party,” I say cheerfully. I walk over and kiss Leah before taking the seat beside her. My being in the room doesn’t mean the conversation stops. They are still talking about painting the baby’s room and how they want to decorate it. Leah smiles but doesn’t say anything. She knows Malcolm’s gloves never touched me.

  “We need to go if we want to make the dinner reservations. Do you guys want to come with us?” Tim asks as he stands.

  I look at Leah and she shakes her head no.

  “No, I think we are going to have a quiet evening at home,” I say.

  Leah and I stand and walk everyone to the door.

  “Bye, we’ll see you guys later.” Leah hugs each parent as they file out the door.

  Once they leave and we lock up, I say, “They’re in an exceptionally good mood tonight.”

  “I know. Our moms were in a good mood all day.”

  “I can see that. I’m surprised they were still here.”

  “I think they were waiting for you to see about dinner.”

  I look at Leah and ask, “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No. Well, yes. Jo stocked the refrigerator with all kinds of healthy foods. I’ve been eating something all day.”

  “Okay, let me get the tables and chairs brought in and then we can go home.”

  “I still have to do the deposit, so can you give me a few minutes?”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  Leah goes into the back room to do her deposit. Once the chairs and tables are brought in, I turn on the big-screen television and watch the sports channel. They are talking about the fight with Abel Kennedy in Las Vegas. A large picture of him is on the screen behind the reporters. They talk about how Kennedy has been MIA and that his trainer/manager is only saying, “He’s been training and is well prepared to beat any contender.” I’ve been searching YouTube videos for anything recent on Kennedy and there isn’t anything. I wonder why he hasn’t fought publicly for so long.

 

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