by Jamie Knight
And as I looked at the crowds behind me, I saw beautiful Liv in my mind, cheering me on.
I was still attracted to her, after all these years. Yeah, my brain innards took a beating, but I knew the truth. She would have still loved me, would have still been by my side even when I fucked up. I couldn’t figure out why. But it didn’t matter.
In the third quarter, the coach decided to put me back in and I thought, screw you all. I am injured, and you all don’t give a hill of beans about all the good I’ve done for the organization.
So, I decided the gloves were off. I’d play my game, not the coach’s game of finesse, not the plays he was famous for. I was going to do it my way.
The truth is that I wasn’t fit to be back in the game and no doctor bothered to check that out. I knew Dallas was going to send Godzilla, the God of all forwards, to ruin me, so I needed to play really rough. So, I ran the ball and instead of throwing the pass, I head butted three guys and took out two in the knees on the way down the field.
At one point, I felt my own clock rocked again. I was about to go down, so the last guy I saw, I pulled his helmet and face guard and nearly spun his head like Linda Blair.
Did I gain yards? Hell yeah, but the problem was that the ref called me on unnecessary roughness. Every part of me wanted to scream, Have you not seen Godzilla, the god? He is a wall.
But I refrained. And I was out. This time, grace wasn’t even in the equation.
I stormed off the field, threw my mask at some team manager, and hollered, “Fuck y’all, I’m done.”
“Son, you keep this up and you’ll be done, alright,” my coach shouted back. “Now, shut your pie hole and act like a fucking professional NFL player before I clock you myself.”
I kicked the helmet down the field and it hit one of our rookie kickers in the shin. He let out an offended yelp.
Oh please, that was probably the most action he’d seen all season, I thought.
Everyone was acting like none of them enjoyed the drama. They loved it. And I was done. The assistant coach told me it was likely that I’d be fine and most certainly suspended for unsportsmanlike behavior towards his own teammates.
“Fuck y’all, just like I said.”
I stormed out of the arena. The crowd went ballistic.
We lost that game, no big surprise, and no thanks to my screwed up playing. It was all over ESPN.
Sasha called and just had to let me know at least twenty times that I needed to get my head out of my ass and back in the game. She told me it was becoming an embarrassment.
I said nothing. For once, I was feeling as if she was right. Even though she wasn’t my coach and wasn’t my girlfriend or wife and had no business trying to give me unsolicited advice on my football career, she was right.
There wasn’t much I could have come back with to prove her wrong.
Chapter 21
Marvin
The next day at practice, feeling nauseous and quite frankly, crippled, I informed the team doctor that I needed to go. But the guys all knew I was leaving because I had received a call that there was another issue with Kylie at school.
Most of them wouldn’t even look at me. I didn’t care. They all had baby mammas and then some. Could I help it that I accidentally picked one who was a drug addict?
I hobbled off the field and not a one of them said, “Later,” or “Take care, Ward.”
It turned out the school was just having a Halloween pageant and Kylie sliced her finger on a pair of scissors while she was getting ready to paste some cut outs. No big thing, but still I understood they have to call the parents and inform us.
It wasn’t Olivia who called me, which made me feel a bit down. I sure could stand to hear her voice right about now, even though I knew I didn’t deserve it. Instead, it was the school nurse.
She did tell me they reached out to Candy, but it just kept going to voicemail and apparently Sasha didn’t answer, either. I was reaching the end of my tether.
I used to depend on Candy to at least be a physical presence in the home when I was at games and practice. But she was growing more and more absent — as I was with her, too, I had to admit — and it was becoming unbearable.
After the school crisis was averted, I was called to an urgent meeting with the team doctor. He said they needed to do some X-rays and MRI’s, but I wasn’t feeling comforted by any of it. It wasn’t typical and nothing about the call was standard, especially since I would have a mandatory time out from playing anyway.
I started wondering if they were trying to set me up by saying I had a bigger injury than I did. Did they want me off the team, and had decided that this was the way to go about it? Or was this standard and I was just being paranoid?
It seemed ridiculous to be so worried. But something told me, this would be the perfect time. They’d ignore it if I was making the team a ton of green. But I was blowing it.
I’m being set up. They will kick me out for the remainder of the season and blame it on my injury. Those bastards. I knew the sport. I knew the sport all too well.
I was examined. It wasn’t unusual but the doctor did seem to be going over every little thing with a fine-toothed comb. And something about the visit had me feeling uneasy.
I decided to go home and take it one minute at a time. I’d had quite a week and for once my priorities were in order.
I just wanted to scoop up my baby girl and tell how brave she was even after cutting herself, and maybe put a little cartoon band-aid on her little finger and let her have ice cream. But like a lot of things in my life over the past few weeks, it turned out it wasn’t meant to be.
It was about six thirty by the time I made it home. I didn’t see little Kylie’s pink shoes in the door where she always left them, but I figured maybe she didn’t take them off because she forgot. I grabbed the mail and noticed one envelope from superior court. I smelled pot.
The fire between my ears was probably visibly steaming. Was my nanny smoking Ganja with my baby girl in the house? Was she serious… when she knew I had this court case pending? Not to mention that just wasn’t how I did things?
I stormed further inside the house to see Sasha and one of her trashy girlfriends splayed out on the porch, drinking Vodka in red plastic cups as if they were still in high school, and passing a joint back and forth. I ran back and forth throughout the house, looking for Kylie, but I couldn’t find her.
I pulled the glass door open and shouted, “Where the fuck is Kylie?”
Sasha’s friend looked up at me, but she didn’t.
“Hey, I’m Tracy,” the friend said, as if I was going to sit down and smoke a joint with them and so she just wanted to get properly acquainted with me first.
“Hi Tracy, sorry to interrupt your little party,” I told her. “But I have a little girl who Sasha is supposed to be watching and you are both stoned and drunk out of your minds. Where is Kylie?”
“Calm the fuck down, Marvin,” Sasha said, finally acknowledging my existence. “Your dad took her for the weekend.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t do that. You have to tell me and get my permission first. And don’t’ hang out at my house, or invite your friends with weed over, when you’re not watching my child, which is the only thing I pay you to do.”
Tracy jumped up, suddenly looking sober. I must have scared the pot and alcohol right out of her.
“I’m gonna go. Peace, girl. Bye, Marvy.”
“Yeah, see ya,” I told Tracy.
She was sure a little shit. I was hoping I hadn’t pissed off Sasha too much, with the upcoming court hearing looming over my head. But I didn’t care at all what this “Tracy” girl thought of me.
“Listen, I don’t have to tell you shit,” Sasha spat at me. “She is your responsibility. Remember? If you don’t coordinate with your dad, that’s on you. I still need to get paid for these hours. I’m not filthy rich like you are. I don’t legally have anything to do with this girl and if you aren’t fa
thering the little tyke and you are leaving her by default, with me, like I am her fucking mother, then sorry, but I don’t know what to say.”
She was mumbling by this point, and looking all around instead of at me. I realized that she didn’t really know what she was saying.
“How much did you smoke?”
“Enough to know that you are completely out of line. Understand. Take this up with your dad.”
“Listen, we have bigger things to talk about, Sasha. I got something in the mail from the court, and it’s the date of the hearing.”
As I pulled the letter out, Sasha looked disturbed suddenly. Like she needed to talk, or she would burst.
“Listen, Marvin. We need to address the real pink elephant in the room. It’s not that I need this money so badly or that I don’t take good enough care of Kylie, because you know I do. It’s not that I smoked a little weed or didn’t tell you that your dad took Kylie for the weekend. But it’s honestly that I think it is better if Kylie goes to live with her mom. It’s obvious that Kylie is the reason things are falling apart. It’s just the truth. If we don’t address it, things will just keep getting worse. Do you want that?”
I ignored Sasha. Her timing was always off. It was always about her and her needs, and never about the most pressing matter at hand.
“Ya know what? Are you crazy?” she shouted, when she realized I wasn’t paying attention to her. “I really think you are a psycho fuck. Give me my phone. Where is my phone?”
“Jesus, it’s in your hand. Calm the fuck down.”
Look who’s the pyscho fuck, I thought, but I didn’t say anything. Because I didn’t want to make things even worse.
“Should I? Should I smoke some weed?”
I called my dad’s number.
“Dad, dad? Where the fuck is Kylie? Really? Really? Did you think it wasn’t essential that you tell me you were taking her? Did you think that might be important?”
My dad sounded flummoxed. “Son, I did. I told Sasha…”
“Is Sasha her mother, Dad? Are you her fucking father? No. No you are not. Plus, Sasha’s on the clock and needs the money whether or not Kylie is here. So, you can’t just go screwing with the schedule and changing things around without consulting me.”
“Son, calm down—”
And just as I was about to lose every ounce of sanity left in my body, Sandra took the phone from my dad and started talking to me.
“Hey sweetheart. I am so sorry. It was my fault. Your dad wanted so badly to take Kylie to the Pumpkinfest here in town, but he said he couldn’t because he hadn’t heard from you. So, I told him to let Sasha know and that I was sure you would be fine with it, knowing how much Kylie loves this event every year. And you know she saw her little friend Sophie and they’ve been chattering all night, or I’d put her on the phone. Kylie, say ‘I love you’ – it’s your daddy sweetheart.”
And I heard her scream, “I love you, Daddy. Thank you for telling her to kiss my boo-boo today.”
I smiled. Sandra had a way of fixing things. It occurred to me. That was why my dad never could fix things for me. That was why Sasha just couldn’t make it all better for Kylie. Because it required a mother’s love.
It didn’t always have to be blood, it didn’t have to be perfect, but a mother always made it better. Olivia had that love in her heart. Sandra did too. I would never be a replacement and Sasha couldn’t be, either, because she was just a nanny doing this for the money, and plus, she barely had love for herself. I sighed.
“Thanks, Sandra. Kiss her goodnight for me, okay?”
“I sure will, Marvin. You done good, Dad.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up and felt almost as if I should apologize to Sasha, but when I looked she wasn’t there. A quick glance showed me she was on the back porch smoking a joint.
Never mind.
I went into the living room to watch a movie. I took the court letter with me. I would have to tell Sasha the date of the hearing another time.
Chapter 22
Olivia
After the incident with Kylie’s finger, and seeing poor Marvin’s distress, I started thinking that maybe I should confront Marvin and tell him about David’s constant contact regarding Kylie.
Part of me was fine with the decision to do just that. The thing was that I found a couple things disconcerting.
The first, what was my motive? Was it that Roxanne was right about my secret feelings? Was I really wanting to contact Marvin as an excuse? But I had examined my heart and I didn’t think so.
Secondly, was it going to cause unnecessary drama. But I felt that the truth, especially in this instance, was probably the best. I hadn’t yet spoken to Candy but that was next on my agenda.
And if anything, maybe Marvin would trust me more when it came to her best interests. Kylie was certainly improving, and I was, for all intents and purposes, keeping him in the loop about everything.
Also, I had heard in that last call from David that he was leaving Marvin messages as to Kylie’s lack of well-being. And I was thinking that if I waited for Marvin to pick Kylie up, I might show him that Kylie doesn’t have any issues and maybe reveal that all she needs is his love.
It felt like an amazing plan, at least in the moment.
Now, I was at school and it was time for the children to be picked up. I figured this was my chance. Kylie held hands with Sophie until Sophie’s nanny came and her scooped her up with a giant bear hug.
“Bye, Kylie. See you tomorrow.”
“K. Bye, Sophie. Love you.”
They were cute. Marvin was a little late, but I stood behind Kylie with a firm grip on her shoulders and I could feel her confidence building. She didn’t doubt he was coming like she had in the past.
A few minutes later, he showed up. Sasha was with him. Knowing that I had requested a moment with him alone via a phone message earlier, he asked Sasha to take Kylie to the car.
“Hi. Thank you. This will only take a minute. I hope you are well,” I told him, feeling as if our conversation was already tense and awkward.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Yes, Olivia, what is it now?”
Oh, geez, he probably thinks I’m some annoying fly he wants to swat away.
But his posture was interesting, his body language. It was as if he was pushing me away because he didn’t want to let me in too close or things could get very dangerous very quickly. I knew the feeling all too well, which is why I had purposefully avoided hearing anything about him in the past.
“It’s nothing, no. I just wanted to let you know your dad has called me a few times and I know he has been calling you with regard to the status of Kylie’s progress—”
“He’s called you? My dad?”
“Well yes, and as I said, I know he has been quite concerned as to the status of her progress—”
“Wait a minute. Have you spoken to my father about my daughter without my approval—”
“Well Marvin, obviously we all have a history. It’s not a traditional teacher-parent relationship. I understand his concern—”
“And so, you felt it professional and appropriate to talk to my dad about my—”
“Listen, lower your tone, firstly. I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like this, and second—”
“Olivia. You go behind my back to apparently ingratiate yourself with my dad and I presume with Kylie. That is not only highly inappropriate but downright wrong. I will be going to the principal about this and trust me, my dad will be spoken to about his role in Kylie’s life—”
“Marvin, you are overreacting, just like you do as usual whenever it comes to your father.”
“You don’t get to tell me about my relationship with my father, my son or otherwise. We aren’t together, Olivia. You barely know me. So, I don’t know if you are stuck on some version of the past, but you aren’t in my life. You aren’t in Kylie’s life except to teach her, do you understand? Maybe it’s time t
hat you stop interfering because you don’t yet have a kid of your own.”
The lump in my throat was growing. It was either going to cause me to cry oceans of tear which would be wholly humiliating, or I was going to fight back. I chose to fight.
“You know what? I’d have done that already if I hadn’t dated so many jerks in this world and for far too long. And furthermore, I may not have a beautiful daughter like Kylie but if I did, this would not be happening. I’d be grateful that she had people in her life who cared about her. But you are so selfish, as usual, that can’t see past your own nose which is attached to your dumb head which can barely hold the hair on it by the way, so grow up. You aren’t some cute jock who can cut me down. More than that, Marvin, you don’t deserve Kylie.”
There was a palpable silence. Back in the day, I would have cried, or we would have had make up sex. Now we were both stuck.
Part of me was proud that I had let him have it, while the other part was disappointed that he seemingly hated me so much. And a tiny portion of me wondered why he had stayed for the beat-down?
Finally, Kylie ran up to him and started pulling his arm, completely interrupting my train of thought.
“Daddy, are you coming? Thank you for the crayons, Ms. Olivia. Daddy, you know Ms. Olivia bought me a crayon set because I didn’t have my own.”
“That was nice of her.”
He couldn’t look at me.
“Okay, let’s go get ice cream,” he suggested to Kylie, after a pause. “Does that sound good?”
“Yes!”
With that, he left me standing there in a pool of humiliation. I remained there, immobile. I felt vulnerable, remembering how he had taken my virginity, and now he had tried to take my pride by cutting down my attempts to help.
The tears streamed down my face and I was glad he wasn’t there to see them. He had hurt me again, yet again, and there was no reward. There was never a reward for the sacrifice, a joyful reaction for the painful cause. I was always left with the mess and yet I kept looking for it.