Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game

Home > Romance > Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game > Page 12
Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game Page 12

by Katie Ashley


  I sighed and raked my hand through my hair. As she stared expectantly at me for the other two words guys hated to say, I stuffed my hands into my pants pockets. “Um…I’m sorry.”

  The corners of her lips turned up like she was fighting a smile. “Thank you.” After I had groveled to her satisfaction, she came back over to me. “You know, you probably need to take her some flowers when you apologize.”

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  “Want me to help you pick them out?”

  As I gazed at the sweet expression on her face, I wanted to kick my own ass. I didn’t want to go flower shopping with her. I wanted to grab her in my arms and lay a big one on her. Better yet, I wanted to go for a sex romp with her through her parents immaculately kept flower beds. But I knew I couldn’t.

  “Yeah, I’d like that,” I lied.

  She smiled. “Then I will.” Suddenly, she brought her hand to her forehead. “Oh, I almost forgot. It’s Wednesday night.”

  “So?”

  “It’s church night.” She quirked her eyebrows at me. “Do you ever go?”

  I shook my head. The truth was I hadn’t gone to church since my granddaddy died. I guess you could say I was still a little pissed at God.

  “Wanna come with me?” she asked enthusiastically.

  Truthfully, the last thing on earth I wanted to do was go to church. But at the same time, I was up for anything that meant being close to Maddie. I also wanted to check out Pastor Dan’s place a little more to see what it was that had such a hold on Jake.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want you guys doing anything weird to me,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. You don’t get to handle snakes on your first visit,” she said.

  My eyes widened in horror. “Snakes? What the hell!”

  She burst out laughing. “I’m just kidding you, Noah!”

  “Oh, right, sure,” I replied, although I sounded a lot more convinced than I felt.

  ***

  There was quite a crowd for a Wednesday night. Maddie led me up the aisle to a bench full of teenage girls—and one or two Bible toting guys. It had never crossed my mind about Maddie having friends. I mean, our sole connection was Jake, and besides him, we ran in very different circles. But once we got in the church, I saw she was the Queen Bee of the Godly Circuit. Her friends all sized me up. Some of them I recognized from school. I could help noticing that a few gave me disapproving looks like I was Big Bad Wolf leading Maddie astray.

  “Hi guys, this is Noah,” Maddie introduced.

  “Hi Noah,” they said together before the younger ones dissolved in giggles.

  “Hey,” I replied giving a lame wave. Maddie urged me to take a seat. Thankfully, it was next to one of the guys. When he glanced over at me, he stiffened and readjusted his glasses on his nose. Suddenly, I remembered he was one of the kids Jake used to pick on to get homework out of. I wanted to hold up my hands and say, “I come in peace.”

  Instead, I flashed my most convincing grin and said, “Hey man, how’s it going?”

  “Fine,” he squeaked. He turned his head and began talking to the girl beside him, and I didn’t blame him one bit. Now that I was on his turf, it was my turn to shift nervously in my seat. Thankfully, my slight heart palpitations eased when Maddie sat down beside me. Her delicious perfume filled my nostrils, and I sighed with contentment.

  A wiry looking man with glasses stood up and motioned for Maddie’s mom. She came up from her place on the front row to play the piano.

  “Let’s look to page seventy-two,” the man’s voice boomed. The members of the choir rose from their benches behind the pulpit. Pastor Dan came out in his robe, and once again, I felt like cuing the Seventh Heaven music.

  Maddie handed me a song book out of the holder from the bench in front of us.

  I shook my head. “Uh-I don’t think I-”

  “I think you can,” she replied with a smile.

  Reluctantly, I flipped to page seventy-two. When I saw the title of the song, it was like every molecule in my body shuddered to a stop. It was my Granddaddy’s favorite song. He used to sing it all the time. In church. Out fishing. Mowing the lawn. I closed my eyes as the deep timber of his voice echoed through my mind. He put his heart and soul to every line, giving inflection on the parts that meant something to him. Although he loved Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Perry Como, he never sang them like he did this song.

  Mrs. Parker struck the first few chords, and the congregation raised their voices in song. It felt like my lips were cemented together with Crazy Glue or something. I couldn’t for the life of me sing. Hell, I could barely breathe. I felt like I was in a tripped out flashback. All I could think about was my granddaddy.

  Since I’d never known my real father, Granddaddy was the only father I’d ever had. When he died two years ago, it shattered me. I know he loved all his grandkids, but he made me feel like I was the most special. Maybe he felt sorry for me because I didn’t have a dad, or maybe it was because I was “his Maggie’s” little boy.

  Whatever it was, it was the most fucking special thing I’ve ever experienced on this earth.

  Granddaddy was the one who bought me my first guitar and taught me how to play. I practically pissed my pants with excitement when I moved from sitting next to him, eyes wide with wonderment as his fingers strummed the chords, to balancing on his lap with the guitar in front of me. I never felt happier or safer nestled his strong arms while his calloused fingertips directed my tiny ones along the frets. Damn, the patience that man must have had. Needless to say Grammy didn’t, because after a few days of lessons, she banished us outside to the porch.

  Granddaddy never lost his smile as he listened to me work the chords into a melody. “You’ve got God given talent, son. Don’t you ever forget that,” he’d say before spitting a wad of tobacco into his cup.

  With a shrug, I’d protest, “But I’m not good at sports, Granddaddy.” After all, each and every one of his sons and grandsons were involved in some sport. For years, he practically lived at either the baseball diamond, the football stadium, the basketball gym.

  Granddaddy’s worn and wrinkled hand would come to stroke his weathered chin thoughtfully. “Being athletic is a good talent to have, son, but one day it is of no use to you. My boys shone as bright stars once upon a time, but now all that has dimmed. It served them well with scholarships, but not a one is still using their talents. But music…” His face would break into a wide grin. “Music is timeless. I’ve played all the days of my life, and I’ll play until my dying day.”

  My conversations with Granddaddy always felt kinda like Forest Gump and his mama. He always had a way of explaining things to me to where I could not only understand, but I could also get the bigger meaning out of. He could make me feel ten feet tall with just a look.

  I’d just started tenth grade when he started acting funny. He’d forget things, or he’d make all the wall statements. Mom and Grammy got worried that he might have the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s Disease. So, they finally convinced him to go to the doctor.

  But he didn’t have Alzheimer’s. Instead, a MRI revealed he had a brain tumor. Something called Glioblastoma. A real badass tumor that’s like a spider. It has a fat body that surgery can remove, but it’s the spider-like legs that get imbedded in your brain and fuck up your life.

  Granddaddy’s diagnosis was one of those life-altering moments when you’re sure the earth skidded to a stop on its axis. It would have to, wouldn’t it? How was it possible for the world to keep right on turning when my Granddaddy was going to die?

  Yet somehow it did. Within my family, it was a hellish blur of agony. Grammy brought Granddaddy home, and Mom and her siblings rallied around to take care of him. They moved a hospital bed into the living room, so there’d be more room for him to be surrounded by his family. My uncles took turns staying nights. They didn’t want to leave Grammy or my mom by themselves.

  One night, I stayed up with him. It was close to the e
nd, and he’d been sleeping most of the time. I was trying to read a book for my literature class when he opened his eyes and glanced over at me. “Noah,” he whispered.

  “What’s wrong, Granddaddy? You need something?”

  He shook his head. With a weak flick of his wrist, he beckoned me closer. “Want to tell you somethin’.” His voice was gravely and weak as if it took everything in him to speak. I leaned forward as far as I could on my chair beside the bed. My elbows pressed into the metal railings of his hospital bed.

  “I’m right here, Granddaddy.”

  He smiled. “You know, I was so angry when your mama got pregnant. I didn’t want her to keep you. I wanted her to give you to a family who could provide for you better than she could.”

  I gasped as his words stung me. I couldn’t imagine these were the final thoughts he wanted to tell me.

  He gave a little rattle of a laugh. “I ain’t finished, son.”

  I gave him a relieved smile. “Oh, okay.”

  “But the minute you were born, your mama called for me. I went into that room still bound and determined for her to give you up. But there she was holding you to her chest, and the love she had for you was written all over her face. She handed you to me, and I took you in my arms…” Tears welled in Granddaddy’s dark eyes. “And it was instant love. The same love I’d had for my boys and for your mama. I knew right then and there you were meant to be with your mama and with our family.”

  Although I tried fighting them, tears pooled in my eyes and spilled over my cheeks. Damn them! I didn’t want his last sight of me to be that of a blubbering pansy.

  As if he could read my mind, Granddaddy shook his head. “Don’t be ashamed of your emotions, Noah. Experience them and embrace them. They’re what make us alive and strong.”

  I nodded. “I’ll try.”

  “There’s something I want you to have, and I’ve told all the boys.”

  “What is it, Granddaddy?” My mind whirled with possibilities. He wanted me to have his rifle with the silver casing, or the pinky ring his mother had given him. I was off by a long shot.

  “It’s the Sullivan family Bible.” The look on my face betrayed me again because Granddaddy chuckled. “Thought I had a treasure for you, huh?”

  “Maybe.”

  He grinned. “It is a treasure, Noah. It came all the way over from Ireland with my father. It’s been passed down through many generations. It’s supposed to be given to the first son of every family, but I want you to have it.”

  “But why me Granddaddy?”

  “Because you need it. Mark is already the strong head of his family. But you’re missing part of yourself because of your father. This Bible will show you that no matter what happens with him, you’re whole. When you’ve got family who love you and care about you like our family, Noah, you’re a rich man.”

  “Then I’ll take it.”

  He smiled. “Good. And one day years from now, you’ll turn to the words themselves for answers, and when you do, you’ll find more treasure there within its pages.”

  “We’ll see,” I said.

  “Give me a hug, Noah.”

  I leaned over the bed and gathered up his withered form as best I could. I kissed his cheek weathered with age. “I love you, Granddaddy,” I murmured in his ear.

  “I love you, too, Noah.”

  He died the next morning. I cried for two days straight. But when I got to the funeral, I was as stoic as a soldier, even when Alex and my other cousins wailed and boohooed all around me. Of course, I’d been shadowed the whole time. Someone never left my side. We even slept side by side in my bed for the first time since grade school.

  That person was Jake.

  I questioned him why he would want to give up his Friday and Saturday nights to sit at home with me while we took care of Granddaddy. “Dude, that man,” he said, gesturing towards the living room where Granddaddy lay in his hospital bed, “has treated me like I was one of his family since I was five years old. Hell, sometimes he’s treated me better than my own father. I love him just as much as I do my PawPaw.”

  His words had touched me. But it was his actions that were truly heroic. One night, Granddaddy started having seizures, and we had to stay up round the clock to give him medicine under his tongue. Mom and Grammy were worn out by 2:00am, so Jake and I stayed up. Every hour we got up from the couch we shared to give Granddaddy his medicine.

  But now Jake was gone, and the pain was overwhelming. It tore through my chest and into my throat. A suffocating pain like a giant’s hands were squeezing and constricting my lungs. I was ten and under the surface of the water again, and this time there was no Jake to save me. I was going to drown sitting right there on the bench. I had to get out of there—I could no longer breathe or keep this inside me.

  Without a word to anyone, I bolted up from my seat. “Noah?” Maddie asked before I scrambled over her. Even though I wanted to haul ass, I knew I would draw attention to myself if I ran out of the church, so I did my best speed walking down the aisle.

  Bursting through the double doors, I sprinted off the steps and started weaving through the cars in the parking lot. At the edge of the property was an old brush arbor where the church had sometimes met. Old wooden benches were laid out under a wooden awning.

  I collapsed onto one of them. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop the sobs, but they wouldn’t be contained. They spilled through my fingers and filled the air around me. It was like a dam had collapsed in my mind, and thoughts and emotions coursed through me.

  Suck it up! Be a man!

  It was instant love…..I love you, Noah.

  Don’t let the emotions out. Keep them buried.

  Hey man, don’t make me duct tape you again. You know, I’m here for you no matter what. We’re best buds, remember?

  No one wants to see the real you. Keep it hidden. They won’t love you if they see the real you.

  Suddenly, someone gently touched my shoulder. I jerked away, but the hand found me again. “Noah, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” Maddie whispered into my ear.

  Instead of the comfort I should have felt, mortification flooded through me so hard I shuddered. No. No. No! She hadn’t seen me like this. This was a fucking nightmare. As much as I hated admitting it to myself, I’d felt a flicker of something for her—something I didn’t know what the hell was, and I hoped she was feeling something too. But how could she now after seeing me a blubbering pansy?

  Finally, I dared myself to look up at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. There was such acceptance and understanding of me along with my pain in her eyes that I didn’t want to run away. Instead, I reach out to grab her hips, pulling her to me. Without hesitation, I buried my head in her waist. She cradled my head in her arms, running her fingers through hair.

  I didn’t run away from my emotions. I let them envelop me. I wept openly and without shame, and for the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

  When I finally finished, I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. Maddie eased down beside me on the bench. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about spazzing out like that.”

  “Oh Noah, you don’t have to apologize. You’ve just lost your best friend. It’s totally understandable,” Maddie argued.

  “It’s not just about Jake…”

  Her dark brows rose in surprise. “Oh?”

  I nodded. “My grandfather was the only dad I’ve ever known. He passed away two years ago. That was his favorite song you guys were singing,” I explained.

  Reaching over, Maddie took her hand in mine. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank,” I murmured. Feeling revived, I squeezed her hand. The smile she gave me warmed my heart. We sat in silence for a few minutes before Maddie hopped up. When I glanced up at her, she grinned wickedly at me. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  My eyebrows jerked up in surprise. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Yeah, but what about your p
arents?”

  She shrugged. “They’ll understand.”

  With a force that surprised me, she grabbed me by the hand and dragged me off the bench. I led her over to my Jeep, and within a few seconds, we were pealing out of the church parking lot like runaway sinners. “So what exactly did you have in mind for our mad escape?” I asked.

  Maddie cut her eyes over at me. “I wanted to do something that would get your mind off things. So what’s something you usually do when you’re upset?”

  “Get drunk.”

  I expected her to gasp and immediately start praying for me. But she only raised her eyebrows. “Is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured. She gazed out the window and then pointed. “Pull in there.”

  It was Baskin Robbins. I whipped it into a parking space and turned to look at her.

  Maddie motioned to the building. “Well, you have your way of coping, but this is what I do when I get upset.”

  I couldn’t help but grin back at her. “Wow, I don’t if I should get involved in hard stuff like ice cream.”

  “Whatever,” she murmured as she hopped out of the jeep.

  I followed her up the walkway to the store and held open the door for her. Sugary sweet aromas filled my nose as we strolled up to the counter.

  “So what are you getting?” Maddie asked, as we peered up at the menu.

  “Probably a chocolate cone.”

  Elbowing me playfully, Maddie asked, “Just a cone? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  I grinned. “Like I said. I don’t want to go all hardcore—I hear it’s easy to get addicted. I wanna say outta Ice Cream Rehab if you don’t mind!”

  Maddie giggled. “I guess you’re right. Better stay on the safe side with your itty, bitty cone,” she teased.

  “Hey now,” I countered as the guy cleared his throat to take our orders. I motioned for Maddie to go first. “I’ll have a build your own sundae with vanilla, chocolate chip, and strawberry ice cream with hot fudge, wet nuts, sprinkles, and whipped cream.”

 

‹ Prev