by Love Belvin
“I was never in love with Jimmy. As much as I wanted to be, we never had that time.” I turned off the water and faced him, resting against the counter. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the assault. You’ve seen the pictures.”
It was astounding to see Rut’s eyes fall away, as he was unable to look at me.
“It’s okay. I get it. They’re a part of my history. And I’m also sure you’re familiar with CTE. You’re a player.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?”
“You bought that as an excuse for why he beat you?”
I rolled my eyes, only partially offended. “Jimmy didn’t beat me, Rut. About a year or so before I started seeing him, Jimmy began showing signs of what they believe is chronic traumatic encephalopathy.”
“Maaaaaan.” He shifted in his chair, showing signs of dismissing my point. “That shit can’t be proved until you die. They gotta autopsy your brain.”
“I guess you’re not aware of all the money being poured into research on the disease as of recent years with hundreds of cases displaying all the symptoms: most from the men with a history of repetitive brain trauma caused during football.”
Rut didn’t speak, his eyes bouncing all over except for on me.
“Well, before I met him, it was suggested Jimmy may have shown severe signs of it: mood changes, headaches, depression, memory loss…” I shook my head. “It was fragmented and hard to track because, until me, no one lived with or spent enough time with him to see the progression.”
“How did you find out about it?”
“That first night he got violent with me. I told him I was leaving when he went off about me taking too long out at the grocery store. Well, first, he’d forgotten that’s where I went. Then he accused me of taking too long. I’d told him three weeks before when he threatened to beat my ass after getting frustrated because he couldn’t find his keys. Well, that night I’d had it. I tossed a few clothes in a bag and stormed down the stairs to leave.” I switched stances, crossing my arms protectively and one leg over the other.
“He was on my heels, and before I could make it to the door, he grabbed me and threw me into it face first.” I swallowed hard, crisply recalling the burst of heat to my face on impact.
“My nose was fractured and lip busted. Lucky for the both of us, Jimmy wasn’t a naturally violent man because he could have finished me if he wanted. The man was two hundred and forty pounds, about a hundred more than me at the time. When he saw the blood, he had another mental lapse. Thankfully, this one was more compassionate and he called 911.” I shrugged and caught Rut mumbling something with tight lips.
I continued, “That incident probably aided the case about his condition. And if all the stars weren’t aligned then, he was diagnosed with ALS just months later. He was on the golf course and couldn’t feel the club in his hand from time to time. Then one day, he was driving the cart and slammed into a tree. That’s when he thought to seek help.”
“You guys were together at that time?”
I nodded. “He hired high powered attorneys to file against the league. That cost money, money they got off the top when he was awarded.”
“I’m sorry.” Rut shook his head. “I’m still back at that night he put his hands on you. You ain’t leave.”
“I actually did,” I corrected. “It wasn’t for long, but I didn’t come back here after leaving the hospital. I went to stay with Eli for two nights. He insisted I stay a another… Didn’t like that I left after that. He was so supportive and seemed completely honest and transparent about his friend’s issues. I left there and stayed with a friend. When I finally took Jimmy’s call, he came clean about his entire journey, starting from before we met. He asked that I help him through it, believing he had no true support. He even offered to give up his bedroom for me. He was offering me friendship at the time.”
“And you thought of your grandpops and couldn’t refuse the offer,” Rut observed.
“Do you know the life expectancy of someone diagnosed with ALS? Fifty percent of all people diagnosed live at least three years after diagnosis. Twenty percent survive five years. Within the first year and a half, Jimmy lost his ability to walk, dress, and write on his own. It’s been a whirlwind.” I shook my head realizing Rut was the first person in a long while whom I’d shared this with completely.
That reminded me to check the time.
“I need to check on him. He’s had a rough day.” I was dismissing him.
Even though I didn’t want him to go, I also didn’t understand why he was here…for the fifth evening in a row.
Rut checked his phone and sighed. “Yeah. It’s time for me to pack it up myself. I got a long night ahead.”
He stood to his feet. My breath hitched when I found him staring at me. His eyes dropped, causing me to feel extremely weird and foolish, so I pushed from the sink to leave. Rut grabbed me into a full-hold bear hug. It wasn’t sensual or indifferent. It was friendly and gratifying. One big hand was at my shoulder and the other wide at the center of my back. His chin rested on the top of my head, and my face burrowed into his hard chest. And, god, he smelled like everything right in the world.
Slowly, my arms lifted and my hands pushed around his sides and I reciprocated that warm gesture.
“Thanks, Rut.” He didn’t respond. I pushed from his hard frame and peered up, eyes brushing over his full and sensually carved lips to meet his eyes. “I think your therapist would be proud of your consistency.”
He snorted while rolling his eyes, and that caused me to bust out laughing. I could tell he abhorred the idea of therapy. I began our walk to the front door and could feel him following.
“You know, I have a therapist, too.”
“You see a head doctor, too?”
I peered over my shoulder to find his shocked expression. “No. My person isn’t a doctor, just a therapist.”
“So what’s the difference? No credentials?”
I made it to the door and turned to him, considering that. “I really don’t know. I’m not sure of her credentials other than she’s for sure no licensed professional. She was referred by Eli. In fact, he pays for everything. I don’t see her as much as I used to. But I’ll connect with her a couple of times a month when I need help sorting things out. So, there’s nothing wrong with speaking to someone and having them help declutter your brain. They can help you get out of your head.” I shrugged. “Or just listen. God, you can’t pay for a listening, non-judgmental ear nowadays.”
Rut didn’t have a rebuttal, and for some reason, that felt strange to me. He didn’t talk much tonight. He listened a lot. He even seemed subdued about the things I shared with him. Overall, I was grateful for the company and hoped it didn’t show.
“Night, Rut.”
“Lata, Parker.” He strode out with a corner of his mouth propped.
~Seven
“I just don’t think we should keep this up.”
“Sherry,” James Junior lifted his palm in the air, silencing her. “We’ve been through this a million damn times! What’s the better alternative?”
“Something more than this!” she continued to argue. “Can’t we just hire somebody?” Her eyes lit with an idea. “What about Nancy?”
“His sister?” her brother posed, his face twisted with confusion.
“Yes. I spoke with ReRe a month ago. You remember her daughter? She told me Nancy is lonely. She’s basically by herself most days a week and is always complaining of boredom. What if we move her in and let her take over?”
James Junior cupped his forehead with his hand. “Sherry, she’s like seventy years old. Remember, they ain’t spoke in years since Nancy said daddy made her pay an equal amount for their father’s funeral?”
Sherry’s arms shot up in the air. “That was fifteen years ago! Things change; people, too, Junior.” James Junior shook his head.
The waiting room door swung open, taking my attention from Jimmy’s kids—all of who were
older than me—brainstorming on how to get me out of their father’s lives. Jerry, James Junior’s twin brother, strode through with three cups of lidded drinks though there were four of us in the room.
“What people change?” Jerry asked, handing out cups to his siblings.
James Junior shook his head. “Sherry thinks dad’s sister should move in and take over.” His eyes cast out into the dark, rainy night at the window.
Jerry dropped himself into a seat next to me, his disposition was typically lighter than his brother and younger sister. His smiling eyes brushed against me before he removed the lid from his cup.
“Aunt Nancy? Ain’t she ancient?”
James Junior scoffed. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“She could be old, but she’s cautious. She’ll guard him with her life and make sure he’s safe at all times,” Sherry cried.
“And I don’t?” I finally spoke up.
We’d done this dance over the past few years. Each time Jimmy’s disease progressed and we’d find ourselves in the hospital like tonight, they’d try to come up with new care plans. Of course, that included giving me the boot. And since the first time they did it to me, I’d been working on my plan B. I lived with never knowing when I’d be told to leave Jimmy’s home.
“I’m just saying, she’s family. You may not understand family bonds like that, but they do exist.” She couldn’t even face me when she spoke.
“You have no idea what I do or don’t know. You don’t know me,” I reminded her.
Finally, she turned to face me. “Exactly. This is exactly our problem here. We don’t know you. You’re a damn kid—twenty-eight years old. You can’t begin to understand the fear of having a child care for your dying father all because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants while going through a midlife crisis.”
“Hey…” Jerry tried.
“It’s too late for this bullshit,” James Junior warned about fighting.
“I agree, James,” my tone was leveled and controlled. “It’s too late to go over the same facts over and over. Sherry, your father was not going through a midlife crisis. It’s called brain trauma. It’s been confirmed medically, even without an official CTE diagnosis. He has ALS, which is a degenerative disease. It means we have a long road ahead in terms of its progression. And lastly—which I know won’t be the last time this comes up, knowing you—you cannot hire a human being to move in with him because you can’t afford it.”
“Maybe we could if you let us pawn the ring he gave you at the height of that midlife crisis!”
“Hey!” James Junior jolted to his feet from the windowsill and shot fire from his eyes at both Sherry and me. “Now ain’t no need for all this tonight, I said!”
“But Junior,” Sherry tried, turning to her big brother. “All I’m saying is…”
I didn’t wait to hear her futile point. Grabbing my phone and purse, I stood to my feet and headed for the door. When I ambled down the hall, I had no idea Jerry was on my heels until I passed the nurses station and one peered at me then behind me. I cringed before turning to confirm.
“Parker, don’t be like that,” Jerry attempted to sooth me. “We’re just under stress from this.”
I moved so we were out of the way from the station but still within sight. I didn’t trust Jerry and his wandering eyes.
“And that’s the problem. You, your brother, and sister think you’re the only ones stressed here. I live with a man who’s slowly slipping away. I’m keeping his spirits up and washing his bowel movements day after day. And each time something happens, I’m the one looking to be eliminated.”
Just like today. I arranged for transportation to get Jimmy to the doctor about the bumps around his trachea. The doctor didn’t like what he saw and had him sent here to the emergency room. Of course, when that call was made, I reached out to his children. I had always been transparent about his condition, although I knew it would lead to another night of questioning my care.
Jerry lifted one side of his mouth, basically conceding to my plight. “Look, I told you a long time ago, I got you at the end of the day.” His eyes swept down my face, landing on my breasts.
“And I told you, it ain’t that kind of party!” I spat through clenched teeth.
Out of the three of Jimmy’s kids, Jerry was most threatening because he was creepy. Just a sleaze. Even before Jimmy fell into incapacitation, when Jerry would come around, he’d have an air of coquetry to his hellos, a deviant eye with his interactions, and a lingering touch to his goodbyes. I’d told Jimmy several times but the complaints fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t the biggest of deals because Jerry hardly came around, living in New York City.
His sneaky eyes swept the left and right of us to see who’d heard me. “Damn, Parker,” That sleek leer appeared. “you making this hard on a brother. All I’m trying to do is look out for you, but I see how you want it.” He backed up.
“Look out for your father, Jerry. All would be right with the world if you made him your focus.”
“Fine.” He continued to back away, sneer in tow. “Have it your way.”
As he turned to go back to the room, my phone vibrated in my hand.
Jade: Look who’s here…
It was a picture of Rut with Emily Erceg under his arm. They were dressed in formal wear, looking Hollywood glammed. My mouth suddenly went dry and my pulse began to race.
Me: Where’s this?
I hadn’t seen Jade since the party at Eli Richardson’s. Because I opted to go, I traded my Sunday care for Jimmy for that evening. But Jade was no fool. Word had gotten around that I’d left with Rut. Apparently, any woman leaving with Rut meant only one thing. Sex. She sent a text the next morning to check on me, but I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with confirming I’d indeed had sex with him. I was too embarrassed.
Jade: At a Mauve event in L.A.
She sent a red-carpet picture of Rut’s giant frame, smiling devilishly handsome. This was the Rut I recognized from seven days ago at the party. The one who sat at my kitchen table was physically the same guy, but energy-wise he’d been neutralized. Looking at the picture annoyed my already agitated mood.
Me: I thought you guys were leaving for vacation???
The last I’d spoken to Jade she shared their family was visiting France and Italy. She’d been so happy since Trent surprised her with it last month. She swears her husband is cheap and doesn’t splurge much. It tickled me.
Jade: We leave in the morning from here.
Oh…
I didn’t want to transition this conversation back to Rut. He was being him: a new player to a team in the league who’d just won the Super Bowl. I couldn’t begin to make sense of who I was in his life. The one thing I was sure of was he owed me nothing.
But he could’ve said he’d be with his little friend.…
Then again, he shouldn’t have. It was my decision to share my life with him when I told him about my time with Jimmy. It was my idea to feed and entertain him each night he showed up on my doorstep this week, just like it was my stupid call to leave the party with him a week ago.
Me: Okay. Enjoy your family and time away! Bring me back something French!
I quoted a line from Home Alone I thought applied.
Jade: Thanks Parker!
I let out a breath, relieved she didn’t mention Rut again. Now I had to decide what to do with myself until we heard back from Jimmy’s doctor. I was for sure not going back in the waiting room. The nurse explained the doctor may release him tonight, depending on whether or not his condition declined. They were able to identify why the bumps appeared and treat it aggressively and topically with antibiotics. It was also made clear the error was on the practitioner who inserted the trachea tube and not me.
How long will you take this?
I had to question myself, but I knew Jimmy wanted me there. I could never forget the day he made me promise to not leave his side. He strongly believed his children would put him in a home, somethin
g he didn’t want.
Coffee…
The moment I decided to go and search for some, my phone vibrated again in my hand.
Terrance Grant: Hey you.
I’d forgotten all about Grant, one of the wide receivers from the Kings. He began texting me on Tuesday. We were going back and forth last night until I called it quits. I was tired, though I didn’t sleep through the night anymore. Dating was something totally new to me. I hadn’t been in the game in years. Since being with Jimmy, I’d aged twenty years it felt. Terrance didn’t give off any indicators of “good chemistry” but had been consistent in pursuing me. Then again, I hadn’t exactly been available to date. Look at my current situation: I was taking care of a man I hardly knew before he fell ill.
Me: Hey yourself…
By the time I made it to the elevator, he responded.
Terrance Grant: I’m sitting here at the bar with a bunch of punks wondering why I’m not some place with you. When can we make that happen?
Me: When do you have in mind?
Terrance Grant: What about tomorrow?
Tomorrow?
That stopped me in my tracks. I have no idea what I expected, but tomorrow seemed so…now. Tension ascended my shoulders and neck. This had to stop. The sermon Pastor Carmichael gave a couple of weeks ago about running the race and how we exhaust ourselves from overthinking things in life replayed in my mind. In so many instances, we should have a relax posture and let God move—or get out of His way. I’d been stressed over loneliness and the bleak path my life was on. I had to make a decision to take care of me. So what I didn’t feel any sparks with Terence? I had to start somewhere. Maybe he’d be a step in the right direction.
Me: How about drinks after work on Monday?
I was being brazen. What did I have to lose? Who did I owe a “no” to?
Jimmy? No.
Rut?
That last one was laughable.
“I think you should be the next Mauve man, not Trent Bailey. He’s not as relevant.” Her eyes sparkled just the way I liked to see in a chick: with mischief.
“Word?” I tried playing it cool, not laughing like I normally would.
