She must have sensed my eyes on her, because she looked up at me. A slow smile crept across her face. “You’re awake.”
She shouldn’t be here. I didn’t want her here. Did I? God, she was so beautiful, but why was she sitting next to my pee bag?
Tamar stood and poured a cup of water. She offered it to me, but I declined. I heard her ask if I wanted some juice. I declined that too.
“Your breakfast is here. They said they put it in a warmer. Let me wet a cloth. You were sweating, but I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”
All her sentences ran together in a blur. She went into the bathroom. My nurse stood and approached the bed. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m good,” I replied.
“You want breakfast?”
“Not yet.”
Dude had to feed me. I didn’t want Tay seeing that.
“I can get you changed whenever you’re ready,” he offered.
“I just need privacy.” I threw up the deuces. He grabbed the book he was reading and left the room.
Tamar came out of the bathroom with the washcloth, approached my bed and began to wipe my forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I look.”
“That’s not that bad.”
I guffawed. “Really, Tay? Neck brace and foot cast?”
“You’re not paralyzed. I understand neck injuries can be paralyzing.”
“You’re wiping my forehead. I can’t feed myself. I’m paralyzed right now.”
She stopped wiping and stared at me like I’d disappointed her by saying that. But she didn’t chastise me. After a few seconds, she resumed dabbing my head and face. I looked up at her hand. No ring. Not that I was expecting it. She’d told me how she felt.
“You won’t take my calls,” Tamar whispered the words like it was a secret - like there was someone in the room who would know I was rejecting her.
“I’m not sure why you’re calling.”
She put a hand on a hip and sighed. “I’m calling because I care about you.”
“Apparently, not enough.” I coughed. I needed that water, but I didn’t want her to get it for me. “Where’s your ring?”
Tamar looked at her hand like she was searching for it. “It’s in my box at the bank.”
I closed my eyes. “At least it’s safe.”
She released a frustrated wind. She reached for my hand. “Stephen, you know I care about you.”
I felt my body release urine. My Foley started to fill up. Heat from embarrassment swept over me. I pushed her hand away. “I’m not interested in being your friend.”
“Let me be here for you.”
“I don’t need you to be here for me,” I said. “Believe me, you’ve done enough, Tay.”
A look of confusion came over her face. “What do you mean by that?”
I didn’t respond.
“Stephen, you’re not blaming me for being hurt?”
“Why not? You’ve been blaming me for things that aren’t my fault for years. I mean who would break up with a football player before the biggest game of his life?”
My words hit her like Number 54 hit me. Her head was spinning. I could see it.
I continued. “And for such a foul reason. You're a writer. You couldn’t come up with a better story than you didn't want to deal with the media? We had been dealing with the media, so you can't tell me that's what the breakup was about.”
Tamar continued to be mute. I felt like I’d spoken some truth that shook her.
“I know you’re hurting. But you’re being unfair,” she insisted.
“No, I’m being fair. As fair as I can be to you.” I sighed and then continued. “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to want to be my wife. You don’t need to be here.”
I thought the pain in my heart was bad, but then a pain shot up my leg from my ankle to my back. I groaned. Hard.
“Should I get the nurse?” she asked.
I spoke through grit teeth. “No. It’s a spasm. It comes and goes.” After a moment, my muscle relaxed.
I felt bad about the way I’d talked to her. “I don’t mean to be nasty about it.”
“You’re right,” she offered. “I should have waited to talk to you. I was wrong to say those things before the game.”
“Sorry is not going to help me get better. I need to be focused on me. If you don't mind, I’d really prefer to be alone.”
“You’re angry, and that’s not like you. Let me pray with you.”
“I’ve got enough prayers.”
“Stephen, please. Don’t shut me out.”
Tamar didn’t understand. If she wasn’t going to say, “I love you, I want to be with you,” I was going to shut her out.
The door opened and my mother entered. I sighed. Tamar’s visit was definitely about to end.
My mother leaned over the bed and kissed me on the forehead. “Good morning, son.”
“Morning.”
My mother glared at Tamar. “Stephen’s not up for visits.”
Tamar put the wet cloth on the tray table next to her. “I was told he could have visitors.”
My mother rolled her neck and placed a hand on her hip. “He can have the ones he wants.”
“Mom,” I interrupted. “Can you give us a few more minutes?”
My mother rolled her eyes again, but then dropped her handbag on the nightstand and walked out.
Once her back was through the door, Tamar and I looked at each other. She reached for my hand and I allowed her to hold it. I fought taking in her warmth. All this resistance was a lie. I was lying with every fiber in my body.
God, I need her.
But I wanted her to love me.
“I hate what you’re going through.”
“I’ll recover.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked on the words.
“I don’t mean to hurt you. Ever. I appreciate you coming all the way from Atlanta, but I need my head to be straight for what I have to do.”
Tamar looked away from me for a moment. When her eyes returned, they were filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. You’ve been honest with me. One could say, you’ve told me exactly how you’ve felt for months. Years really, if we think about.”
“That’s not fair. You know it’s not.”
“Why isn’t it fair to say? Because I’m hurt.”
“Because I’ve forgiven you. We forgave each other.”
“I love you came out of your mouth. Before I put that ring on your finger.”
“I know. But…this is not the time. It’s not the place.”
“It’s the perfect time. It’s the perfect place. Nothing gives you perspective better than an upper spinal injury, a busted ankle, and two surgeries.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. I hated to see her cry. I always had.
“I need to put my whole heart in healing. I don’t have time for distractions.”
Sadness filled her eyes. Either she was wrecked from guilt, or I’d broken her. “I’ll leave before your mother gets impatient.”
Say you love me, and you can stay.
She leaned closer and pressed her lips against my forehead. I wanted to turn in her direction and taste her sweet mouth. But I couldn’t turn. I couldn’t move my neck, and she didn’t want a kiss.
Tamar lingered on the side of my bed for a moment. She seemed unsure of what to do or say next and that uncertainty looked familiar. I’d seen it a few times over the months. I tried to read what was in her eyes up close, but I’d done that before. I thought I saw forever in her eyes. I was wrong.
“Okay,” I released a long breath. “Take care of yourself.”
“You, too. Think about what I said. I’d like to be here for you.”
“The Giants will provide the best nurses
in the state of New Jersey,” I said. “On your way out, would you tell my mother and the nurse, I need about five minutes before they come in.”
You’re dismissed.
Tamar looked sad – regretful even. She’d probably had mixed feelings about having come in the first place and now she was probably unsure about what she’d done to me emotionally.
“You’ll be on my mind and in my prayers,” she said, picking up her bag and phone. She walked toward the door.
Don’t call her back. Let her leave.
She stopped at the door for a moment, looked back at me one more time and then opened it and left.
I felt tears well in my eyes. I hadn’t cried in fifteen years, not since Tamar’s mother’s funeral. It was one of the saddest days of my life, because Tamar and her father were utterly destroyed by her death. That day, I had shed tears of sympathy.
Today, no one was dead, but I knew what loss felt like. It was going to take a miracle for my ankle to heal enough for me to play football again. I believed in miracles, so I was up to the challenge, but getting over that woman – I didn’t know if I would ever do that.
“Lord, heal my wounds, and if You’re not going to bring her back to me the way I want her, I also need You to heal my heart.” More tears slid down the side of my face.
We’d won the Super Bowl, but the play wasn’t supposed to go like this.
Chapter 14
I was miserable. I hadn’t been this miserable in years. I still hadn’t forgiven myself for what I did to Stephen. It had been weeks since he put me out of his hospital room, and I was still wrecked about it.
I spent my days working, fighting not to pick up the phone and call Stephen, avoiding stories about Debra’s new television show, and feeling guilty about not being with Aunt Joe.
“I think you should go to New Jersey and tell Stephen,” Kim said.
We had been moving our eggs and bacon back and forth on our plates, neither of us really eating since the waitress put our meals in front of us. I was depressed, and Kim was trying to help me get it together.
“I can’t. He’s back in the hospital.”
Annoyance flashed across Kim’s face. She was sick of my excuses.
“You don’t understand. He blamed me for getting hurt. If I tell him about Isaiah and he has a medical setback, he’ll blame me for that too.”
“Tamar, you know he was speaking out of anger. He doesn’t really blame you.”
“That’s what he said.”
“He’s had some time to think. He’s not going to have a setback. He didn’t have a heart attack or anything like that.”
My thoughts continued to churn. “Finding out he has a son is going to be emotional. He doesn’t need that kind of energy right now. He needs time for his body to heal.”
“Okay, I get that, but what are you going to do about your aunt? You said she’s been pretty sick from the chemo and she has more next week.”
I sighed. “I’ve requested family medical leave.”
“But you said if you go down there, the reporters might find the story about your son.”
“I’m going to hope for the best.”
“Isaiah looks like Stephen.”
“I’ve thought about it. He looks like pre-teen Stephen, not really Stephen today.”
Kim shook her head. “Girl, he looks like his daddy. You’re worrying me. I think you’re losing it.”
“I’m sane. I’m just between a rock and a hard place. I don’t want to hurt Stephen, but I need to take care of my aunt. I also don’t want my aunt stressed out by how Stephen might respond.”
Kim appeared to be thinking before she said, “Don’t you think that maybe you’re trying to handle too much here? This is a big problem. You need to pray and trust God with all the actions and reactions folk are going to have. He cares about both Stephen and your Auntie’s health.” Empathy flooded her eyes. “You can’t control everything.”
I groaned inwardly. “I just need a little more time. A few weeks. I’ll do it right after Aunt Joe recovers from this next round of chemo and by then, Stephen will be further along in his recovery.”
Kim shook her head. “I have a bad feeling.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I can’t help it. You’re doing the most. It’s stressful.”
I picked up my coffee mug and took another sip. “How do you think I feel?” I rotated my shoulder to relieve tension. “You should have seen the look in his eyes when he all but put me out of his hospital room. I’m not used to that Stephen.”
“You have to learn how to trust God with all of Stephen.”
I swallowed heavy emotions. I didn’t know how to trust God with this. I was trying, but I couldn’t see His hand right now.
Kim interrupted my thoughts. “You say Stephen is the real deal in his faith. So, if he’s the real deal, then he should forgive you.”
I couldn’t argue with that in theory, but I wasn’t sure if Stephen could do it in practice. “Secret babies have a tendency to bring out the worst in people.”
“It won’t be a secret baby if you tell him before the boy is grown.” Kim raised her fork to her lips. “You’ve got to let go and let God. This is really too much for you to do alone.”
I dropped my head in my hands for a minute.
“Call him. Write him a letter. You’re good on paper. But handle this. It’s going to backfire on you if you don’t.”
We finished our breakfast in silence. I considered her words as I traveled to the office. I was overwhelmed with stress about everything. I thought about all Stephen was dealing with. The filming for Debra’s show was underway. He was in a good deal of pain. I knew because his agent, Clyde, kept me updated about his health.
“I do need to tell him,” I whispered. I reached into my bag for my phone and dialed his cell number. It went right to voicemail. Rather than hang up, I left a message for him to call me.
I didn’t even realize how fast my heart was racing until I put my phone down. What was I doing? How had I gone from not telling him to now calling without thinking my words through?
The email icon pinged twice on my computer shaking me from my state of shock. Human resources approved my family leave. I also had an email from Eva.
I popped out of my chair and went to her office.
“I know you asked for leave, but I was wondering if you wanted to take intermittent leave instead of full leave. You could telework from your aunt’s house.”
I was thoughtful about that. Working part-time would give me income. I only had about three weeks of paid leave. That wouldn’t last long. “What would I be doing?”
“That college intern I had on the gossip blog quit. I have to put someone on your desk, but I don’t want another college kid for the blog.”
I waited a beat because I knew she wasn’t finished.
“I was thinking you could do the blog.”
I considered the assignment. Relationship stories, mostly celebrity updates with a few unknown people with big trending stories mixed in. I had never done anything like it. I wasn’t interested in it. “Is there something else? I don’t follow celebrity gossip.”
“I’m not going to move everyone around to accommodate you,” Eva barked, spinning her chair away from me.
I rolled my eyes, before she turned back to me.
“The celebrity stuff isn’t that hard. Neither are the trending stories. You stay on Twitter and grab whatever is hot and run with it.”
I needed the money working part-time would net me. I had enough savings to pay my bills for a good three months, but beyond that, I would be struggling. “I’ll do my best.”
“Of course, you will,” Eva said. “I’ll email you the deets. Call if you need something.”
She shooed me out of her office. I went to my desk and packed up everything I needed, which amounted to my laptop, iPad, a portable printer, printer paper, a few legal pads, and my favori
te pens.
As I exited the building, relief washed over me. I was on my way to Yancy. I just hoped I wasn’t going to regret not figuring out another way.
Chapter 15
I heard the door open, the alarm code being keyed, and then footsteps on the stairs.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m starving—”
My words died on my tongue when I saw my cousin, Pete. I sighed. I was feeling antisocial. My entire leg from my ankle up was hurting. I was in a mood, so he was one of the last people I wanted to see right now. “Where’s mom?”
My father placed a bag of food on the kitchen island. “She saw a gray hair this morning. Her stylist had a cancellation, so she jumped on it.”
I nodded, switched my weight from the wall I was leaning against to my crutches.
“You gettin’ around good in that boot?” Pete pointed at my foot.
“I do what I need to do.”
“How’s it feeling?”
“Painful and uncomfortable,” I replied, sharply.
Pete nodded.
“I thought you were in the program for four months. Don’t tell me I’ve wasted more money.” I asked referring to the drug rehab program I was paying for.
“No, I’m still in. The last thirty days I get two one-day passes. Then I go to the halfway house.”
I wasn’t even going to try to show enthusiasm for Pete’s rehab. I’d paid for it too many times, so I nodded and said, “Yeah, I’d forgotten how it worked the other four times.”
My father cleared his throat and shot me an annoyed look. He put the bag of Chinese food on the table. “Let’s eat.”
I’d been eating healthy, high protein meals prepared by a chef the team doctors had assigned to me. Nutrition was high on the list of conduits to healing, but today I wanted to dismiss with the green food. Not that my diet tasted bad, but nothing was as good as my favorite Asian haunt, and it was not healthy.
My father and Pete slid out of their coats. After washing their hands, they joined me at the table. I’d already taken out a set of chopsticks and said grace. We all ate with chopsticks. My father taught Pete and I how to use them when we were kids. He’d spent a few years in Japan when he was in the Marine Corp.
The Winter Wedding Page 8
