The Baller (24 page)

“How is she?” he asked.

“The same.”

“How long was I sleeping for?”

“Two hours, maybe.”

“You sleep at all?”

“Not yet.”

He stretched out in the chair, arms reaching up and neck going from side to side. “Why don’t you go home? Get some sleep. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“I want to stay.”

It looked like he was going to say something but then changed his mind. Instead, he just nodded.

“Still drink sugar with some coffee in it?” He stood.

“I do. Still drink it black and disgusting?”

He chuckled. “I’ll go find us some.”

Things between Brody and I relaxed a lot more after that. We weren’t best friends again, but I also didn’t feel like he was shooting an imaginary bow and arrow, with my forehead as the target.

“How long has she been in Broadhollow Manor?”

“A little over three years.”

I nodded. I had no idea how long it had been since I’d seen the two of them. Years of my life had been wasted and gone. The screwed-up thing was, now that I was sober, it felt like the world had stood still for me. I’d aged, but life had never progressed. It was as if I were picking up after pushing pause on my life for a long time. The thing was, my life had been the only thing paused. The world had gone on around me.

Brody and I made small talk while we kept vigil. It was better than the silent treatment, although there were so many meaningful things I needed to say that I still didn’t have the courage to speak. When the nurse came in a few hours later and asked us to step out for a little while so she could wash Grams and take her vitals, Brody and I headed to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. We wandered into a gift shop first.

“You need anything?” He had a baseball cap in his hand.

“A toothbrush would be nice.”

The woman at the counter recognized Brody when she rung us up. Walking out of the store, he pulled on the cap, bringing the bill low on his face.

“Disguise?”

“Sort of.”

“Is it everything you thought it would be?”

“What?”

“Being famous.” When we were teenagers, we used to spend hours dreaming of what being a famous football player would be like.

He glanced at me. “Nothing turned out the way I thought it would.”

We ordered two egg sandwiches from the cafeteria and sat down to eat. Brody finished his in what seemed like three bites. I ate only half of mine.

“You’re not going to eat that?”

I smiled. Brody always had a ridiculous appetite. Wherever we went, both of our plates were wiped clean, but it was usually because Brody devoured everything on his plate, then attacked mine.

“Nope. Help yourself.”

He finished off my breakfast and guzzled his small black coffee.

“Do you remember when we went to that Oktoberfest during senior year, and you ate that guy’s full plate of food because you thought it was mine?”

“Yeah. I almost got my ass kicked by Paul Bunyan in lederhosen. That was the biggest person I’ve ever seen wearing overalls in my life.” We both laughed at the memory. We had snuck into a German festival, but only had twenty bucks between the two of us and were starving and unwilling to forego beer. So we each ordered an appetizer and the biggest mug of beer we could afford. Brody was off talking to some guys from the football team, and when he came back, I told him he could finish my appetizer while I headed to the bathroom. He proceeded to eat the entire fifteen-dollar meal that was on the table. Only it was on the table next to where my leftover appetizer had been. We had one large, pissed-off German guy to contend with when he realized that his meal was gone.

When we got back to Grams’ room, the nurse was done, and a doctor came in a few minutes later. He told us that although her stats had stabilized from the medication, she wasn’t trying to breathe on her own, and that wasn’t a good sign. They would repeat the CAT scan in the early afternoon to determine the extent of the damage. Each doctor who stopped in felt compelled to warn us that things were not looking good. It was as if they were trying to prepare us for what the afternoon test would bring.

Brody and I were both quiet for a while after the doctors left.

“She has a health care proxy. I found the papers when I was cleaning out her things in the apartment. She and your grandfather had them drawn up years ago. I never tried to have a new one made, because my lawyer said her mental capacity would be an issue if we drew up any legal documents. So even though I’m her legal guardian now, her health care proxy was made when she was able to make her own decisions. And those decisions were her wishes.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means her medical decisions get made by the person who she wanted to make those decisions, not me.”

“And who is that?” The answer was obvious, but I hoped I was wrong.

“You.”

Delilah

I’d tried to reach Brody three times since the morning, but each call had gone straight to voicemail. I finally ended up sending him a text before Michael and I taped the spot with Payton Mara. When we were done, the text still didn’t show as delivered. I was growing concerned for so many different reasons.

“Everything okay?” Michael asked on the way back to the airport.

“Sorry, yes,” I lied. Well, sort of. “I just don’t like to fly. I get nervous for hours before.” It was the truth, but it wasn’t what had me preoccupied today.

“I think our seats are next to each other. My hand is available for holding. And squeezing if you need.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you. But usually I need more of a drool wiper than a hand-holder.”

He glanced sidelong at me before his eyes returned to the road, so I explained, “I take a Xanax, it knocks me out pretty good. But it’s either that, or my heart might crack a few ribs pounding so hard to get out of my chest.”

“Ah. Drool wiping it is, then. Even though I was looking forward to an excuse to hold your hand.” This trip had proven that Michael was the nice guy that I initially thought he was, not the bad guy Brody had warned me about. Although I was glad I hadn’t gone out with him.
Until Brody, I’d avoided anyone who might make my heart race. Letting anyone in other than Drew had felt like I was cheating. But somehow, Brody had wormed his way into my heart without my even seeing it happen.

Michael and I had just cleared security when my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. Brody’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hey. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Is everything okay?”

“Sorry. I was in the hospital, and my phone was off. I just turned it back on.” He sounded exhausted.

“It’s fine. I was just getting worried. How’s Marlene?”

“Not good. They’re doing a repeat CAT scan now, so I’m heading to my place for a quick shower and change of clothes. She had a stroke.”

“Oh God. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. They’re keeping her alive with machines right now. But they’re not giving us much hope that the second scan is going to come back better than the first scan. She has bleeding in the brain, and she’s not strong enough to survive surgery.”

“I don’t know what to say. What can I do?”

“There’s nothing anyone can do. The doctors are doing everything they can, and they’re still not sure it will be enough.”

“I’m at the airport in Miami. My flight should land about seven. Will you be there all night?”

“Yeah. I’m probably gonna stay again tonight. I have practice early tomorrow, and I already missed practice today. Not sure how things are gonna go, but I want to stay as long as I can. Coach will fine me, but he’ll understand when I explain things in person.”

“I’m available to bring up dinner or come sit with her so you can take a little break.”

“Thank you. But I’m good for now, babe.”

“I wish I would have had the chance to meet her before now. The way you talk about her, I know how much she means to you.”

“Yeah. She’s pretty great. More like family to me than most of my real family. They say blood is thicker than water, but that doesn’t mean shit. Everyone needs water to live.”

“That’s a beautiful thought. You should tell her that, Brody. Even if her eyes aren’t open. Maybe she can hear you.”

“You know what? You’re right. There’s a lot of shit I probably should have said to her before now.”

“I’m sure she knows how you feel, but getting the words out might help both of you.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“I hope it turns out okay.”

“Me too.”

Normally, I would take half a pill before getting on a short flight. Instead, I took a full one. Aside from my regular preflight jitters, I was anxious to get back home, wanting to be there to support Brody if he needed me. Unfortunately, I’d soon find out, that I wasn’t the only one ready to console him.

Willow

Lust. There’s a reason that it’s just a scramble of the letters that spell slut.

I was literally sitting on my beloved grandmother’s deathbed, and yet my heartbeat accelerated the minute Brody walked back into the room. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a fitted thermal, he turned the identity-shielding bill of his cap backward, and I had to force my gaping mouth closed. With his backward baseball cap and hair sticking out all over, he looked just like the jock I fell for.

“Anything?”

I shook my head. “They only brought her back a few minutes ago. There was a backup in CAT scan. The nurse said results would be backed up, too.”

He dug something from his pocket and extended his hand palm up, holding a swipe card of some kind. “Your turn.”

My forehead creased.

“My place is only four blocks away. You said you live all the way uptown. I picked up a T-shirt and those yoga pants you women wear in the hotel gift shop and left them in the bathroom for you, in case you want to change.”

“The hotel gift shop?”

“I live at the Regency Hotel.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. During the season. I stay in the cabin the rest of the year.”

“The cabin? You still have the cabin? Is it finished?”

He smiled. “I’m still working on it. But it’s getting there.”

The cabin upstate was the first major purchase Brody had made when he turned pro. The land was beautiful, but the place was a disaster. He’d wanted to rebuild it all himself. I’d only visited it once, but the memories had stayed with me. It was one of the last good weeks I’d had before I spiraled out of control this last time. We’d christened every room the week we were up there. One memory, in particular, replayed in my mind often. We had just made love in front of the fireplace that looked out at the lake, and we talked about spending the offseason there together, fixing the place up. He had told me he was going to build another fireplace in the bedroom because he loved the way my eyes looked in the fire’s glow. Brody and I had a lot of memories, but that one, that time in front of the fireplace, I remember feeling utterly and completely loved.

“Go.” He snapped me back to the present. “We’re probably going to be here again tonight. Penthouse two.”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I did. Go. I got it here for a while. Besides. Can’t have you smelling up the place, can we? That’s my job.”

***

I’d never been in a penthouse before. But it basically looked like what I expected it to look like. Large, open, clean and fancy. What it didn’t look like was Brody’s home. Some binders with the Steel’s logo rested on the end table in the living room. The dining room table held some mail and a folded jersey. But little else screamed that someone lived there for four months of the year.

I wandered into the master bedroom. The spacious walk-in closet was filled with clothes and shoes. One whole side was practice jerseys, football pants, sweatshirts and Under Armor. There had to be at least twenty pairs of sneakers and cleats lined up on that side of the closet. I opened a few of the built-in drawers—everything was folded neat and tidy. Brody had always been more of a
shove it in a drawer and make it fit
kind of guy. Someone else was definitely putting away his laundry. The absence of any women’s clothing in the closet made me think that someone was a maid, rather than his girlfriend.

Behind a dividing wall was a large master bath with a double sink and an enormous tiled shower. No fancy shampoos and conditioners, no perfumes or makeup. No sign of a woman spending frequent nights here. Although there were enough water jets and space in that shower to have a small party. It made me wonder if Brody
entertained
often.

As I headed out of the master suite, I couldn’t help myself. I was already overstepping boundaries by snooping, might as well jump in with both feet. I slid open the bedside table. Inside was a set of Beats headphones, an iPod, some business cards and a stack of folded papers. I moved some of the papers to the side, revealing a half-empty box of condoms and an almost empty bottle of lube. Well, that answered that question. I guess he did
entertain
often.