by Lily Zante
“You're worried about the fight, huh?” she asks, noticing that I haven’t yet picked up my cutlery.
I nod. It's got nothing to do with the fight, but I gladly take the excuse she's given me. “Garrison’s the favorite, and sometimes it gets hard to stay positive.”
“He can be the favorite. Let them see what you’re made of when you step into the ring. Then we'll see who's the favorite.” She picks up her cutlery and starts to eat.
I can’t keep up the pretense. I stare back, and nod, but images of Grampton House flash through my head. Something in my expression changes enough for her to notice.
“What's wrong?” she asks, catching me staring at her. Now her face twists with anxiety. It's on the tip of my tongue to say something. I feel like I've choked up bile, as if telling Harper loosened some of that soot that had ground into the lining of my stomach weighing me down like a boulder. I feel the urge to clear the rest of it out. “It’s not the fight.”
Nina puts down her cutlery for the second time, and looks as if she’s going to be sick. I’ve made her uneasy. I’ve broken an unspoken rule.
We never talk about that time.
It’s selfish of me to want to bring it up just because I’m starting to feel whole again. Nina isn’t where I am. I can’t tell her. “It's Harper,” I say, instead.
My sister's face lights up, and she smiles. “Yeah?”
I’m glad I have something else to switch my focus to. I can't tell this to Nina ever, no matter how cleansed I will feel, I can't ever tell her of the abuse. She will feel guilty, and hate herself, she's always prided herself on being my protector—crazy given that she's so small—but she will. My sister will blame herself for something that was never her fault.
I don’t want to put that on her.
Harper is a good distraction. “She’s going to come and see me fight.”
“Brave woman.”
“Why don’t you come?”
“I can’t, Elias. We’ve been through this before. I can’t watch you get hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt.”
She frowns at me. “You can’t guarantee that.”
I can’t convince her. I want Nina to be there as much as I want Harper. Lou and the boys are my team, but Nina is my family, and Harper is the woman who’s claimed my heart.
“Okay.”
“I’ll pray for you.”
“Pray for Garrison,” I shoot back. “He’s going to need it.”
HARPER
* * *
Gerry is nowhere to be seen. I don't go actively looking for him, but from where I sit, I can see his office a few tables away. The upper half of the front-facing side is all window, I know he hasn’t been in for two days.
On the third day, he comes in, but he's in his office with the door closed.
I've finished my piece on Eli, and I sent it to him a few days ago because I need him to look at it before it goes to print. I'm in a rush because my dad has summoned me to lunch. He's been calling and complaining that he hasn’t seen enough of me and so I decide to get this over with, especially since I'll be gone this weekend, cheering Eli on from the ringside.
Gerry hadn’t put in a word to Merv about me going to see the fight, like he said he would, but I’ve spoken to Merv and convinced him that I need to go.
I also want to pop into the diner at some point and see if I can persuade Nina to come along. I’m sure Eli would want her to be there. As I rush off towards the elevator, Gerry comes out after me. “I’ve read your article,” he tells me. “Got a moment?” He’s distant, and not his usual self, and I don’t know what’s up. This can’t be anything to do with me leaving the other evening, can it? Gerry has more sense than to get upset about trivial things. His marriage breakup has definitely made him more irritable.
“Now?”
“It won’t take long. We’re on a deadline for this.”
I follow him into his office. I know we’re on a deadline but he’s the one who’s been away for two whole days and has hidden himself away in his office for the entire morning.
“It's a good piece,” he tells me. “But I feel you can improve it a little.”
I raise my eyebrow. I'm in a hurry as it is, because my dad's expecting me to have lunch, and then I have a million things to take care of before I leave for New York.
“You need to remain impartial at all times, Harper, but I don't feel you are. You speak almost in glowing terms about Cardoza.”
“I talk about his work ethic, and his determination,” I insist, “And his difficult childhood.”
Gerry looks annoyed. “There’s more. What about his past? His illegal fights?”
“I told you,” I say, regretting every inch of that drink session with Gerry. “I'm keeping that to myself.”
Gerry pushes his hands further into his pockets. “Our readers deserve the raw facts. They want the nitty-gritty story, not the rose-tinted glasses variety.”
“I don’t want to mention those things.” My voice takes on a pleading tone, because I realize that in his position, Gerry can overrule me. “Please, Gerry.”
“It needs to be factual, Harper. I can't cover for you.”
I frown. I've written about his childhood, the things that are known, and embellished them a little without revealing his secret. I haven't painted him as an angel. I've written him as I found him, a raging bull, a man who could be so tightly wound up, you didn't know if he was going to hit you or just look at you with a deadly stare.
“I’ll revisit it,” I tell him, then glance at my watch. “Sorry, but I have to go, I have to meet my dad for lunch.”
“Revisit it and let me have the final version.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
HARPER
* * *
I rush off, pissed with Gerry. He seems to want me to take the article in a different direction than the one I have planned.
I won't.
I'm late meeting my dad. I jump in a cab and rush to the golf club, my father’s second home.
I go straight to the eating area, where I know he'll be, but to my dismay, he's standing around with a drink in his hand, and a bunch of his cronies; a couple of guys his age and their younger versions whom I presume are their sons. I'm annoyed because I didn't want to come here and make small talk with his friends.
I assumed it would be only the two of us. I stop, and briefly consider bailing out, but he sees me and beckons me over. His silver-tinged hair gives him an air of authority. He dresses well and gives off all the right signals; the expensive watch, the top-of-the-range Mercedes.
He has carved a beautiful life out for himself. He plays golf so often that I forget he works. He used to joke that he doesn't really work because he’s on the board of so many companies and that going to the golf club was as good as working because he makes so many deals while he’s on the golf course.
“Here she is, the daughter I hardly see,” he announces, loud enough for his friends to all turn and look at me.
I smile at them all, and say “hi.” I'm even more annoyed when he introduces me as his daughter who works for the Chicago Daily Herald.
He leans towards me and we kiss on the cheeks, and luckily his friends all resume their conversations again.
“You're always too busy to make time for me, honey,” he complains. “I haven't seen you for weeks.”
“I've been busy working, Dad,” I tell him. “I was away at the training camp.”
“What in the blazes were you doing there?”
“My story on the boxer, remember, I told you?”
His mouth twists. “They still have you doing that?”
“How have you been?” I ask, ignoring the displeasure in his tone.
“I’m having a swell time, as you can see.”
I nod. I’m happy for him. He’s worked hard, and deserves his rewards, but I wish he wouldn’t turn his nose up at things he knows nothing about. “You know there’s a Ladies Luncheon here every first Tuesday of the mont
h. Why don’t you come? Join the club. I’ll pay for your membership if you can’t afford it. You’ll get to meet some good people. Make all the right connections.”
I’m about to ask him what he means by ‘good people’ but I hold back. There is no point. “I was hoping we could grab a quick lunch, just you and me.” I steal a look at his friends, my expression ice cold.
“I wasn’t sure if you would show up today. They were free so I told them to join me. Join us, honey.” He nods at the young guys while my insides inwardly combust.
One of the younger guys comes up to me. “Interesting, so you work for the Chicago Times?”
“The Chicago Daily Herald,” I correct. “It’s a smaller paper.”
“Interesting.”
I marvel at his range of vocabulary, and then at his hair which looks styled to perfection. I imagine him to be a banker or someone as shifty, and I wish he would go away but his friend joins us instead. He says nothing. He doesn’t even smile. In fact, he looks a little intense.
“What are you working on?” Mr. Intense asks.
“She's working on the boxer,” my dad replies, and they both look at him, then at me, as if they don't know whether my father is joking or not. “He’s Chicago's New Hope, allegedly.” I’m not comfortable with my father talking about my work since he doesn’t sound too enamored of my career path.
“I didn't know Chicago had any hope,” one of his older friends chimes in as he joins our group. The others laugh but I don’t join in. He’s only heard the tail end of the conversation and I doubt that he has any idea what we’re talking about. It takes a huge effort on my part for me to remain quiet.
“Interesting,” says Mr. Interesting. “Are you really doing a story on Cardoza?”
I’m surprised that he knows. “Yes.”
“Who?” Mr. Intense asks.
“Elias Cardoza,” I reply.
“The name rings a bell,” one of the old guys says.
My dad shakes his head. “I don't have a clue who she is talking about but she seems to enjoy it, don't you, honey?” He points at me with his glass in his hand.
“He's the one fighting Garrison, Dad.”
Mr. Intense turns to me with something bordering on interest. “Oh, that guy?”
“Yes, that guy.” I grit my teeth.
“He doesn’t stand a chance,” Mr. Interesting states.
“That’s your opinion and you’re entitled to it,” I shoot back.
“Yeah,” Mr. Intense replies. “We're placing bets on him at work. He's not going to win.”
“My bet’s on Garrison, too,” his friend agrees. “Nobody even knows about Cardoza. The guy’s going to get his fifteen minutes of fame because the others messed up.”
My father sniffs. “These things are a big spectacle, nothing more.”
Mr. Interesting nods his head in agreement. “Boxers are stupid. The only people making any money are the promoters. Now, they’re smart. Talk about leaving it to the idiots to knock each other's brains out in the ring.”
They descend into a chorus of laughs.
“They have balls, though,” I say, “Bigger balls than you probably do. It takes guts to step into a ring and fight.”
The air prickles with my words.
“Harper,” my dad says, the use of my name indicates that he’s annoyed. “You're taking this too seriously.”
“It is serious, Dad. It’s someone’s livelihood.”
Mr. Interesting and Mr. Intense are still in shock. My dad’s friend clears his throat, and I decide that I’m not hungry.
“Actually, Dad, I need to get back. I have some work to do before the fight.”
My dad frowns, not understanding.
“I’m flying to New York to watch the fight from the ringside. I’m cheering Eli on.”
It’s like his jaw dropped and hit the ground.
“You’re going to see the fight?” someone asks me.
“Yes,” I snap back. “I’ll call you when I return,” I tell my father. I’m not in the mood to hear what he might have to say about that. “Nice meeting you all,” I wave to the others as I leave.
I’m glad to get away. That was awkward. My father by himself would have been easier to handle. He still doesn’t like the idea of me getting involved in the boxing world, and it worries me because as far as he’s concerned, this is an assignment I’m working on, and nothing more. I don’t even want to think about his reaction if he knew that Eli and I were involved.
As it is, I've never been to a fight before and I’m a little nervous about going to see Eli’s fight. It's not the type of event I'd ever be interested in, but I'm doing this for Eli. He doesn't know I'm going to be there, and I want it to be a surprise. I lied and told him that Merv wouldn't pay for me to go, and that seemed to satisfy him.
Merv has let me go, and my plane ticket there, and the hotel and the ticket to the fight are all paid for by the company. Even if he hadn’t agreed to it, I would still have gone and I would’ve paid for everything out of my pocket. I would have bought an expensive ticket to an event I have no interest in attending. But I'm doing this because I want to support the man I'm falling for. Eli has nobody going. No family, or friends as far as I can tell, only his team.
I’m still worked up after leaving the golf club, and I’m not ready to go into work and face grumpy Gerry.
Luckily, I’d already decided to pass by the diner because I'm going to try to convince Nina to come. Eli's told me that she never comes to any of his fights but I know it would make his day if she showed up.
She’s not here by the looks of it, and when another waitress comes up to me to ask if I’d like to be seated, I remember that I still haven’t had my lunch. So I sit down.
I’m tempted to go into the gym after, but I can’t. I won’t. Eli’s busy preparing for New York. He leaves for the fight soon and we’ve promised not to see or contact one another until it’s over.
I look at the menu and put away my cell phone because I expect my dad will call me at some point and ask what the hell happened. There was no way I could stand around listening to him and his friends spawning rubbish about things they know nothing about. Playing golf, for Christ’s sake, and talking about Eli as if he’s an idiot. It was making me choke listening to them. What do they know?
Eli probably wouldn’t have picked the life of a boxer if he’d had an alternative.
I’m still slightly vexed as I read the menu, so when the waitress asks what I’d like, I look up a little too angrily. Then my face softens as I see Nina. “Oh, hey,” I exclaim, my mood brightening in an instant. “I didn’t think you were working today.”
She smiles and I see a little of Eli in that smile and in her expression. “I was in the back, sorting out a complaint from a customer. Two times they complained about their fried egg, said it wasn’t to their specification.” She rolls her eyes. I widen mine in surprise.
“I didn’t think there was much to get wrong in making a fried egg.”
“I don’t think there’s a problem with the egg. A lot of the time people are just miserable about something else and they find it easier to direct their anger at something completely unrelated. Most times, from what I can see, the problem is internal.”
“Wow. You must see all sorts of things here, huh?”
“It’s eye-opening, for sure.”
I’m sure it is. We chat a while and ask one another how we’ve been. I haven’t seen her since that night at Waquito’s, and she has no idea how much things have changed since then. I wonder if she knows about me and Eli, but neither of us talk about him.
I place my order and she disappears, only to return a short while later with my sandwich and bottle of water.
“Thanks,” I tell her, then ask her if she’s got a minute to talk. I’m always wary of getting her in trouble with her boss.
“Sure, what is it?” She doesn’t sit down but leans closer.
“Eli says you don’t watch his fights. He says you
’re scared to see him getting beat up.”
Tension releases in her face, which makes me wonder what she thought I was going to tell her. “There’s no way I would ever watch him fight. I can’t even watch it on TV.”
I know this. I know her reasons, yet I am compelled to ask her anyway. I feel as if I’m treading on toes, but I also feel bad for Eli.
“I’m going to the fight,” I tell her, “but Eli doesn’t know I’ll be there. I want to surprise him.”
She gives nothing away, not even a hint of surprise at why I might say this. “And I’m going with a guy from work who is…” I pause trying to think of what to say. If Gerry’s weirdness earlier today is anything to go by, I’m dreading spending the weekend with him in New York watching the fight. I need Nina to be there as much for me as for Eli, as selfish as this might sound. “Who I’m not so eager to go with,” I say, releasing a sigh.
“Why?” She looks as if she doesn’t follow. As if she has no idea why I’m telling her this.
“Oh… long story.” There is no story, because I’m sure it’s just a phase with Gerry, but I’m hoping this two-pronged attack on Nina might convince her to at least consider my proposal. “I know you’re scared to watch him, but I’d hate to think of Eli being there all alone with nobody but his team rooting for him. He’s not the favorite. The crowd will mostly all be on Garrison’s side. It would be such a big boost to Eli if he saw you in the crowd.” I let my words sink in.
Nina chews her lip.
“Garrison is so convinced he’s going to win. It’s not just the physical fight that’s going to matter on the night, Eli hasn’t even fought at that venue and this match is huge. I’m afraid for him, afraid that the magnitude of the occasion might overwhelm him, and if he doesn’t see anyone in the crowd on his side… ” I sigh loudly this time. “I’d hate for him to lose hope and give up.”
Nina gives me a hesitant look. “I want to support him, but… ”