Stephen’s jaw got noticeably tighter, and it wasn’t because he was chewing. “That’s right. My mother isn’t invited. Not at this time.”
I placed a hand on his arm. “Babe.”
He looked at me, and I saw fierce determination in his eyes. I knew I was wasting my time bringing her up. “Tay, I love her, but she went too far. She’s always gone too far.”
“But Stephen—”
He shook his head and took a sip of water before speaking again. “She knew what you meant to me and for her to do that…what does that say about how she loves me?”
I sighed. “I hear you, but I would do anything to have my mother at this wedding.”
“Don’t do that. Your mother not being able to be with us is not the same as my mother choosing not to be with us.”
I dropped back in my chair. He put his arm around my shoulder and raised a hand to stroke my cheek. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve prayed about it. I’m not convicted to change my mind.”
I knew he wanted me to stay out of this, but I couldn’t help feeling like his mother might have more resolve than he thought she did.
He continued, “I’m sure that this is how it has to go down to get her to understand that I’m leaving and cleaving for real. There’s no room for her to think she’s making any decisions about what I do.”
I closed my eyes against his words. I didn’t want him to have regrets. “But it’s our wedding.”
Stephen moved his arm from my chair and began eating again. “Which means it’s the perfect time to get her straight. You know she’s not going to want to miss a photo shoot with Essence.”
I laughed. He was probably right about that. “She made a mistake.”
“She manipulated a disaster, and I won’t let it be another thing I let her get away with.”
I stood and walked to the refrigerator for a bottle of juice. “What do you want from her?”
“An apology to you and a promise to mind her own business. I have to teach her how to treat you, or we’ll keep having problems out of her. I know this seems severe, but I know what I’m doing.”
I walked back to my chair and sat facing him. “Have you told her that?”
Stephen cocked his eyebrow. “Repeatedly. Is your phone ringing?”
I swallowed. “She’ll come around.”
“That’s her choice. Until she does, she’s not in this wedding.” Stephen continued to eat like it was no big deal, but I could see his heart was broken.
There was always something else to pray about.
***
My hand trembled under the weight of my cell phone. I dialed the number and stared at it for a minute before pushing the call icon.
When she answered, I was relieved she’d bothered because I knew my number was unknown to her. “Mrs. Pierce, it’s Tamar.”
Donna cleared her throat. “This is a surprise. Is Stephen okay?”
“He’s fine, ma’am.” I paused and took a deep breath before saying. “I’m calling to tell you he’s not going to change his mind.”
She was silent. “You’ve made sure of that.”
“I had nothing to do with Stephen’s decision. I knew you two weren’t talking, but the wedding planner told me you weren’t participating.” I had to push myself to go on. This call was harder than I expected it to be. There really was a lot of hostility between us. “Mrs. Pierce, I’ve been trying to talk to him. That’s why I’m calling you. We’re six weeks away from the wedding.”
Donna continued to be mute.
“I would do anything to have my mother at this wedding, but I can’t. I don’t want to look at wedding pictures ten years from now and you’re missing from them. I don’t want to explain to my children, or even Isaiah why Grandma Donna wasn’t in the wedding.”
“GlamMa,” she interrupted. “My grandchildren will call me GlamMa.”
“See, you want to be a part of our lives. You’ve already picked out your name.”
“You kept my grandson from me.” Her voice was filled with the same venom it held the day she found out about Isaiah, but I wasn’t going to let her make this rift between her and Stephen about that.
“You disliked me long before that. I’m thinking eighth grade. You also didn’t know about Isaiah when you deleted that message and destroyed the note, so please, don’t make this about him.”
More dead air. The only reason I knew for sure she was still there was because I could hear the low hum of the television in the background.
“What is your problem with me, Mrs. Pierce. Really, woman to woman, tell me what it is?”
I heard her sigh heavily. “He’s obsessed with you. He always has been. I don’t think that’s healthy.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and rolled my eyes like she could see me. “But you think it’s healthy to intercept voicemail messages and letters sent to your thirty-year-old son?”
“Don’t you try to tell me about parenting.” She snapped. “You aren’t a real mother.”
This time I rolled my neck. “I haven’t been a mother as long as you have, but I can tell you this, I’d never do that to my child.”
“But you can give him away.”
I fought the urge to hang up on her. “I did what was best for him at the time. That was living with my aunt. What’s best for him now is me and his father. What was best for Stephen back in March when you interfered? I doubt he’d believe it was what you did.”
I heard her harrumph. “Here she is, the real Tamar Johnson.”
I swallowed the words I wanted to say before responding. “The Tamar that’s not going to let you talk crazy to her. The Tamar that’s not letting anyone run her out of town. Yes, this is her.”
I sighed and reeled my temper in. “You are family. You’re always going to be family. Whether you come to the wedding or not is between you and your son and your God, but I’m on this phone today because I love Stephen. I don’t want this for him. Please, work this out before it’s too late.”
Stubborn woman that she was, she didn’t respond. I ran out of patience and time waiting for her to speak. “I have to go. My boss has called me twice since I’ve been on the phone.”
“Tamar.” Desperation filled her tone. “You have to understand. Stephen is my only child. I don’t want to lose him. I’ve never wanted to lose him to you.”
I shook my head. “You are losing him, Mrs. Pierce, but you’re not losing him to me. You’re losing him to yourself.”
I ended the call. For the first time in all the years I’d know Donna Pierce, I pitied her.
Chapter 45
“You’re ready to play.”
My heart almost came out of my chest. Adrenaline surged throughout my body. I closed my eyes and rocked back on the table.
“Thank you, God!” I opened my eyes. Clyde and I raised our fists and pounded. This nightmare was over.
“Any recommendations, doc?” Clyde asked.
“Stephen is a professional. He knows he must protect every inch of his body. He knows not to take risks.” Dr. Hogan’s efforts at reverse psychology did not go unnoticed.
He turned his attention away from Clyde, looking me squarely in the eye. “The thing you’re going to have to do now is work on your mental game. Sometimes an athlete has the tendency to overprotect the injury. That’s how you get hurt again. So, with that said, I’m ordering a few more sessions with the team psychologist.”
“I knew that was coming,” I groaned.
“Of course, you did,” Dr. Hogan stuck his hand out and shook mine. I shook the other doctor’s hand. “Good luck, Stephen. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need something.”
They left the room.
Clyde let out a whistle and began to dance. “Back in business.”
“Not a moment too soon. I don’t think I’ve been this scared since the accident.”
Clyde took his phone out and started texting. “Make good use of the
shrink,” he said as he typed. When he was finished he raised his eyes to mine. “They give you tips. Good ones.”
I nodded.
“I just sent a text to Gail,” Clyde said referring to his assistant. “Sports Center asked me for an interview. I’m going to have her set it up, so they get the first crack at you. I told them they’d get to talk to you before the press release goes out.”
I let Clyde and the team publicity people deal with this stuff. I merely nodded and stepped down from the examining room table.
We left the room and entered the training area. It was Tuesday, so the team was off. A few of the guys were here working out anyway. We greeted each other. I got high fives and pounds and congratulations.
“Glad to have you back, man. We need you.”
Those words were good to hear. They didn’t know I needed them, too.
Clyde and I walked down the long hall that led to the exit. I scanned the walls where pictures of all the big games were framed. There were newspaper articles that dated back to the thirties. The great players and owners and coaches had framed pictures. I knew one day, my photo would be there, because I helped make this franchise great.
Clyde stood with me. We had a moment together honoring the past before he said, “You know, Stephen, you handled this like a real pro. I’m proud of you.”
“I’m not going to lie and say it was easy.”
“You know, I know. I’ve had guys lots of guys get hurt over the course of my career in this business, so I know what that pain looks like.”
We began to walk to the door and exited.
Clyde continued. “You talk about all that faith in God, and I saw it for real. You never got scared.”
“I was scared plenty.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t scared like what I’m used to seeing. I’ve had a lot of injured athletes. Some of them lose it. You kept it together like no one I’ve seen before.” Clyde put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re the kind of brother that makes this sport better. You’re my hero and I mean that.”
He walked down the steps and I fell in step with him on the way to the parking lot.
I got into my truck. Clyde got into his which was parked next to mine. We both put down our windows.
“You know, sometimes you make me think about this Christianity stuff.”
I raised an eyebrow with interest. “Do I?”
Clyde turned up his lip like he was deciphering data. “A little bit.”
“I’ll keep praying for you.”
“You do that.” Clyde nodded. He waved and pulled off. There was a seriousness in his eyes that revealed his heart. He meant it. He was thinking about his faith.
I thought about Pastor Johnson’s words about my witness during this season. Not only was the team watching, my best friend was watching and because he was so close to me, Clyde was someone I hadn’t even considered.
God’s plan is always bigger than ours. I knew that. I also know why we have to try to do the right thing at all times.
I arrived home to an excited Isaiah. “Dad, they’re about to talk about your team.”
I approached the television. I picked up the remote and turned up the volume.
“The Giants will get some much needed help next week, when Stephen Pierce comes off injured reserve. The Giants have already said they plan to activate him. He’ll practice with the team this week.”
The program left the studio and cut to an interview with Coach Nye.
“How’s Pierce doing?”
Coach Nye replied, “Pierce is on target to return when we play the Vikings on November 18th, which would be a much-needed boost to the offense. He just has to get comfortable again. He has stayed mentally in the game by attending meetings and walk-throughs. He’s been praying with the team and blessing the field. He’s a regular priest out there. He looks good. I think he’s lived up to his reputation during a rough year personally and professionally. I expect to see the same Stephen Pierce that left the field come back.”
A better Stephen Pierce, I thought.
“Dad, you ready?” Isaiah’s eyes couldn’t have been brighter.
“I’m ready. I think the best thing about playing again is knowing I get to look up from that field and see you watching me.”
Isaiah tossed the football he was holding to me. “I’m going to pray you get a touchdown.”
I laughed. “We Pierces pray before all games.” I pointed heavenward. Isaiah copied the hand signal and I knew this was going to be a great season.
Chapter 46
I opened the garage to put the trash out. My mother was standing in the driveway.
“Hello, son.”
I put the bag in the can and turned to her. I could see she was dressed up a little more than usual, so I figured she was coming from one of her many social club lunches.
I looked up at the sky. The snow was coming down heavier than it had been earlier this morning when I left for practice.
“Would you like to come in?” I asked.
She nodded and stepped in the garage with me. We went into the house. My mother shed her handbag and coat, leaving them on a chair in the foyer rather than hanging them up. I surmised she wasn’t planning to stay long. She always hung her coats.
“Can I make you a cup of coffee or something?” I asked, washing my hands.
“A cup of tea would be nice.”
I put the kettle on. The kettle she’d purchased for me when she’d decorated my kitchen. I pulled a mug off the mug rack and dropped a bag of the tea she kept in the cabinet.
“This weather is dreadful, and it’s early yet.” My mother settled onto a stool at the breakfast bar.
Since we were going to open with small talk, I said, “Not too early. Thanksgiving it's always freezing.”
“I’m thinking about going to Florida for a few weeks to get away from the cold. My bones can’t take it anymore.”
I nodded. “So, is this what we're going to do, Mom? We're going to talk about the weather.”
“Don’t rush me. I need to congratulate you. You’re playing next week.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and backed into the counter near the stove. “Thanks.”
“Are you ready?”
I nodded. “I’m good. I feel strong.”
My mother played with the place setting in front of her. It was more of her handy work. Tamar had been here a lot, daily, but redecorating wasn’t on her list of concerns. She hadn’t changed anything. She’d barely decorated her apartment. The woman was a minimalist. “I look forward to the game.”
“It’ll be Isaiah’s first time seeing me play.”
She smiled. “Good. It’s a blessing you’ve recovered. I can’t help thinking what if you weren’t better. It would have been horrible for him never to see you play.”
I dug deep for the patience. “What-iffing doesn’t help and now that I’m better, it doesn’t matter.”
My mother grunted a little. She lowered her eyes to the table setting again. “I talked to Tamar last month.”
“A whole month ago.” I didn’t hold back the sarcasm.
My mother frowned. “She pleaded with me to talk to you about our situation. She wants me in the wedding. She acknowledges that I'm family.”
“Mom, I don’t think it should have taken Tamar to acknowledge that you’re family.”
“You're not behaving like it.” She gave me a hard stare, one that would have worked when I was a child. “What son doesn't invite his mother to his wedding?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, guiltless. “One that’s tired of her shenanigans.”
My mother turned her head. She seemed to be focused on something in the next room. I followed her line of vision to the picture. I’d hung a 48 x 36 size photo of Tamar, Isaiah and myself over the fireplace.
“I don’t know what you and Tamar talked about a month ago, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t an apology.”
She rolled her neck in my direction, and our eyes locked. “So, you’re going to strong-arm me into kissing up to her?”
“That’s not what this is about. You did something wrong. You should want to make what you did wrong right.”
The kettle whistled. I filled her cup. I handed her a jar of honey and a teaspoon and then returned the kettle to the back of the stove.
“You owe Tamar and me an apology. And I don’t think it’s fair for you to think I should just behave like you don’t.”
“You’re blackmailing me, Stephen. Like I've got to do this to keep from being embarrassed in front of the whole world.”
“Mom, if you can’t see you’re doing this to yourself, I don’t know what to say, but I want respect for my future wife. I should have demanded respect for my girlfriend back in high school. Maybe all these years and all this loss wouldn’t have happened.”
My mother scowled as her chest heaved up and down. “Oh, so it’s my fault you didn’t know about your son?”
I threw up my hands. “It’s all of our fault. It’s the fault of everyone who didn’t give her the support she needed when that video was released. That includes you, me, dad, and her father.”
My mother spooned honey into her tea and stirred. She kept her voice even, but I see she was seething. “I don’t want to be forced to apologize. What happened to forgiving someone even if they haven’t asked for it?”
I jerked my head back. “I’m the only one who’s supposed to obey the word? You taught me the Bible verses I know about forgiveness.”
She raised the cup and took a sip. She glared at me over the lip of the mug. “Maybe I raised a better Christian than I actually am.”
I shook my head. “I feel like I don’t know you anymore. It’s not like I’m asking you to do something that’s wrong. You owe my future wife an apology.”
My mother raised the mug to her lips again.
“Tamar is the most important woman in my life,” I continued. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You will always be the woman who gave birth to me – who raised me – who taught me the difference between right and wrong. Which is why I know what right and wrong is.”
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