by Mj Williamz
“Ronda, are you sure?”
“I’m positive. I want you to come here. I want this to be your headquarters for the next few days. Okay?”
“Thank you so much.” She threw her arms around Ronda and hugged her tight. “You’re the best.”
“No. I just care about you. That’s all. Hey, I’ve got to get going. You going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Ronda left for practice feeling uneasy about leaving Gayla home alone. But she was a big girl and Ronda did have responsibilities. She made it to the gym before anybody else and pushed herself hard, trying to forget the pain Gayla was experiencing. By the time it was time for scrimmages, she was almost exhausted.
“You okay?” Coach Hindley asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“How’s Gayla?”
“As good as can be expected.”
“Hey, if you need time off…”
“No, like I said. I’m good. She’s got her family. And the funeral tomorrow is after practice. So, I’m right where I need to be to keep myself busy and she’s doing what she needs to do.”
“Okay. If you’re sure. But if your head’s not in it, you could get hurt and I don’t want that happening.”
“Don’t worry, Coach. My head’s in it.”
“Good. Now, go get ’em.”
It was a good practice. Ronda got some good hits in and even made an interception. Canfield came up to her after her shower.
“Way to make me look bad out there, Meyers.”
“Hey, I’m just doing my job. If you throw the ball to me, I’m going to catch it.”
“You think you’re so fuckin’ awesome.”
“Whoa. Slow down, Canfield. We’re all on the same team.”
“Yeah, but you have to make everybody else look bad. So uncool.”
“No. I have a job to do. I’m supposed to do it well. And I practice the way I play in the games. Just like you. So, if you or any other QB throws one right to me, I’m going to catch it.”
Canfield chest bumped Ronda.
“So you’re saying I’m gonna throw a pick in the next game.”
“Easy there, Canfield. I’m saying maybe be more careful.”
“I’m gonna make you look so bad next practice.”
“I wish you would. I’d rather you burn me and get a touchdown. But I’m not going to dumb down my position for you. If you want that TD, you’re going to have to earn it.”
Just then, Mallory walked up. She took Canfield by the arm.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
Canfield cast one more angry look Ronda’s way before allowing herself to be led off.
“What was that about?” Coach Hindley was at Ronda’s side.
“Ah, she was just pissed that I picked her today.”
“It was a great play,” Hindley said.
“Yeah, but she thinks I was trying to make her look bad.”
“We’re all on the same team,” she said.
“I hear you.”
Ronda left the practice center and headed for her house. She was hoping Gayla would already be there, but she wasn’t. Ronda was tired from practice but keyed up with nervous energy. She dove into the pool and swam some laps. When she finished, Gayla still wasn’t there.
She put on some shorts and a T-shirt and opened a beer. She settled in front of the television to see what was on. She heard a knock on the door. When she answered it, there stood Gayla, eyes red and puffy. She immediately took her in her arms.
“Oh, babe,” she said.
“He’s gone,” Gayla said.
“I know, babe.”
“No. He’s really gone now.”
Ronda was at a loss. She had no idea what to say, how to react. Gayla had just had her brother cremated. He had been turned into ashes. What do you say when someone’s been through that?
“It’s okay, Gayla. It’s what he wanted.”
“I know. But he was too young.”
“Yeah. No doubt about that. Come on in. Sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’d love a scotch.”
“Coming right up.”
She poured the scotch, took a deep breath and brought it to Gayla. She handed her the drink then sat next to her on the couch.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
“What’s to say? We went in there and waited until they brought him out to us in a box.”
“A box?”
“Yes. It’s a nice wooden box. I don’t know.”
She started bawling again. Ronda rubbed her back, at a complete loss for words.
“Can I get a tissue?” Gayla asked.
Ronda brought her a box.
“So, who will keep the box?” Ronda asked.
“He’ll be inurned tomorrow after the service. Please tell me you’ll go with me to the ceremony.”
“Of course. I’m here for you, Gayla. Any way you need me.”
The next day at practice, Ronda had to mentally tell herself to focus. She was worried about Gayla and the funeral and inurnment. She hadn’t been to a funeral herself in her adult life. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she had to be strong for Gayla. Practice finally ended and she headed home.
Gayla was there, in a black dress that normally Ronda would have commented on how lusciously form-fitting it was. But now was not the time or place. She looked at Gayla’s face and noticed that even the makeup couldn’t hide the splotchy patches and the red, swollen eyes.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Gayla said as she stepped into Ronda’s arms. “I can’t believe we’re essentially burying my little brother today.”
“I’m here for you, babe. Lean on me. Come on in my room while I get dressed.”
Ronda went through her closet and chose a black suit with a black shirt. She would be hot, but it was appropriate for a funeral.
“They want this to be a celebration of his life,” Gayla said. “But he was always in trouble, so what’s there really to celebrate?”
“He was a troubled kid, sure. But he was a good guy, too. I certainly enjoyed his company the few times I met him.”
“Thanks, Ronda. That’s sweet of you to say.”
“I mean it.” She checked herself out in the mirror. “Are you ready to go now?”
“No. I’ll never be ready. But we have to. Let’s do this.”
Gayla laced her hand through Ronda’s elbow and they walked out to the truck. Ronda held the door and Gayla climbed in. Ronda climbed in and drove to St. Paul’s Methodist Church. The parking lot was full. She found a place to park and they climbed out. Ronda didn’t know how much public display Gayla would be comfortable with, but Gayla held her hand and squeezed it. Ronda saw tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Do you want to take a moment?” Ronda asked.
“No. It won’t matter.”
“Okay.”
They walked in and Gayla led Ronda to the front row with the rest of the family. Ronda felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb, but if that was where Gayla needed her to be, that was where she would be.
The ceremony was lovely. The preacher spoke kindly of Jesse, even though Ronda doubted he’d ever met him. Then it was Gayla’s turn to talk. Ronda hadn’t expected that. Gayla squeezed her hand then got up and made her way to the podium. Her speech was wonderfully poignant with only a few breaks to compose herself. She came back and sat down.
“You did good,” Ronda whispered in her ear.
Gayla smiled at her through tears and squeezed her hand again. They held hands throughout the rest of the funeral and then followed Gayla’s parents out to the limousine that was waiting to take them to the Memorial Garden which would be Jesse’s final resting place.
Chapter Fourteen
The days after the funeral were hard for Gayla. She split her time between her parents and Ronda. Ronda always tried to be upbeat and positive for her, while giving her plenty of
time and space to mourn.
Being there for Gayla during her tough time solidified Ronda’s desire to be with her. She felt nauseous thinking about Gayla going through the death and inurnment of her brother all alone. Sure, she had family, but she’d needed more. And Ronda was proud to have been able to be more for her.
During that time, something had shifted in their relationship. It should have scared Ronda but it didn’t. It should have sent her running for the mountains. Instead it sent her further into life with Gayla. And that was a good thing.
Ronda focused on her practices and was more than happy to have another game that weekend. It was a home game, too, which meant Gayla would for sure be there.
“I’ll look for you in the stands?” Ronda said as she left the house that Saturday morning.
“I’ll be there.”
“Good. Thanks.”
She kissed Gayla good-bye and went to the stadium.
The game was a close one. Their opponent was a much better team than the previous week’s. In the fourth quarter, the Stars were only up by seven points. Ronda was getting edgy. She liked to blow out the other team. They’d run the ball at her a few times and she’d tackled the runners, no problem. But they hadn’t thrown the ball at her. Smart for them, but it left her bored over there.
With only three minutes left, the opponents passed the ball on Ronda’s side of the field. She tracked the ball and watched where the receiver was. No problem. She reached out and grabbed the ball. As she fell to the ground, the offensive player fell on her leg. She heard a loud pop. She rolled around on the ground in agonizing pain. But she held onto the ball.
The next thing she knew, the trainer was out on the field, asking her questions and assessing her knee.
“What happened?” the trainer asked.
“I don’t know. I just remember hearing a loud popping noise and then pain. Oh, my God, the pain,” Ronda said.
“Look at how swollen it is already. Can you straighten it out for me?”
Ronda tried, but was unsuccessful.
“How about bending it. Can you get it to ninety degrees?”
Once again, Ronda was unable to do as she was asked.
“What is it, Doc? What’s wrong?”
“Well, we need to do some more tests, but I think you tore your ACL.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. If you did, you’ll be out the rest of the season.”
“That sucks. You got any good news, Doc?”
“That you’re going to get a nice ride off the field on this little cart and we’ll take you to get an MRI.”
“Gee, swell.”
They got her on the cart and she gave the crowd a thumbs-up as they drove off. Not that she felt much like thumbs-up. She felt like crap. She was in pain and she didn’t want to miss the season. Maybe it wasn’t a torn ACL. Maybe that was a misdiagnosis. That would be cool.
In the locker room, the trainer helped Ronda get out of her uniform and into her street clothes.
“Gayla,” Ronda said.
“What?”
“Where’s Gayla? She needs to come with me.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen her around. I don’t know where she is. Right now, we need to get you checked out. Now, how is your pain, on a scale of one to ten? Ten being highest.”
“I don’t know,” Ronda said through gritted teeth. Nine?”
“Okay. Okay. Now, just hang in there.”
They wheeled her out to the parking lot where the ambulance was waiting.
Gayla approached the group.
“Ronda? Are you okay?”
“Oh, thank God. There you are. Come with us?”
“I’ll follow you in my car. What do they think is wrong?”
“They think it’s a torn ACL.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah. Oh, no is right.”
“Okay, you two. We need to get her to the hospital. You can talk more after the MRI.”
They loaded Ronda into the ambulance and sped away. It arrived at the hospital where she was immediately put in a wheelchair and taken in for an MRI. She was helped into the tunnel and lay still as the machine whirred around her. When the MRI was over, they wheeled her out to a waiting room, where Gayla sat looking nervous. She rose and greeted them.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’m in a lot of pain. They’re gonna see about getting me some pain pills. Do you know how the game ended?”
“No. I left as soon as I saw you go down.”
“Damn.”
“I’m sure the coaches will be here as soon as they can to check on you and they’ll tell you then. I can tell you your pick stood.”
“I figured. I wasn’t letting that ball go. Hey, did it look like the offensive player went for my knee?”
“What do you mean?” Gayla said.
“I mean, was it intentional?”
“Well, I didn’t see any replays, but real time it looked like she just happened to land on you.”
“Okay. That’s okay, I guess.”
The trainer was back in the waiting room.
“Did you find anything for the pain?” Ronda asked.
“No. If they’re going to do surgery, they can’t give you any meds until then.”
“Holy fuck. This hurts, though.”
“Hang in there, Meyers. You’re a tough one.”
“Surgery? Is that the way to go?” Gayla said. “And, if so, shouldn’t you wait a few weeks? I thought that was protocol.”
“Actually,” the trainer said, “studies have shown that if you do surgery immediately, your body is only recovering from essentially one trauma rather than two. So, we’re recommending surgery. But we want to talk to Coach Hindley before we make any decision.”
“Well, she’d better get here soon or I’m going to pass out,” Ronda said.
Gayla took her hand.
“Hang in there, baby.”
Just then Coaches Hindley and Poehl came rushing in.
“How are you?” Hindley asked.
“I fucking hurt. Now can we decide whether or not I’m having surgery?”
“Sure,” Poehl said. “Let us all talk and we’ll come back. What’s your take?”
“I vote for surgery.”
“Fair enough. We’ll keep that in mind.”
The trainer, surgeon, and both coaches stepped off to the side and engaged in a quiet conversation. It seemed to last for hours. Finally, they broke it off and came over to Ronda.
“We’re going to do the surgery,” the surgeon said.
“Excellent. Now give me some drugs to knock me out.”
“Soon, Ms. Meyers. I’ll have a nurse take you up to pre-op where we’ll get you ready.”
“Fine.” Ronda reached out and grabbed Gayla’s hand.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Gayla said. She stood back as the trainer wheeled Ronda and she and the coaches followed. They all packed into the elevator and rode it up to the surgery floor. The trainer was in charge. She checked in at the desk and then they all waited. Finally, Ronda got called back to a room. Everyone rose.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “Only one person may go with her.”
Everyone looked at each other, but Ronda reached out and took Gayla’s hand.
“Gayla will go with me.”
The others nodded and sat down. Gayla followed the nurse as she wheeled Ronda into a room. The nurse left them alone with instructions for Ronda to strip out of her clothes and put the gown on, opening in the back.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can getting your slacks off, but let’s face it, it’s gonna hurt,” Gayla said.
“Yeah. Here. Let me get my jacket, shirt and bra off first.”
They got them off and Gayla carefully folded them and put them in the bag she’d been given. Now it was time to get Ronda’s slacks and underwear off.
“Maybe straighten both legs and I’ll slide them off?” Ga
yla said.
Ronda did her best and lifted herself off the bed enough for Gayla to slide both her slacks and boxers down and off her.
“Oh, shit,” Ronda said.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just fuckin’ hurt.”
“I get that, baby. It’ll be over soon.”
“No. That’s just it. It’s only just starting.”
“Well, I suppose that’s true. But the pain you’re in at this moment will be gone soon.”
There were nurses in and out asking questions and setting up IVs, as well and the anesthesiologist came in. Gayla felt like she was in the way, but knew Ronda wanted her there. Finally, the anesthesiologist gave Ronda something to calm her down and told Gayla they’d come get her after surgery. They wheeled Ronda down the hall, but that was all she remembered.
* * *
Ronda awoke feeling stoned some time later. She shook her head to try to clear the cobwebs, but they persisted. She was happy to see Gayla standing there. She reached out for her.
“Babe, you’re here.”
“Of course I am. How are you?”
“I’m messed up. Whatever drugs they gave me were great.” She laughed.
“Well, I suppose there are worse things to hear. How’s your knee?”
“What knee?” Ronda laughed again. “I can’t feel anything, so I’m okay now.”
“Well, enjoy it now. It’s going to hurt like a mother soon enough.”
“Thanks, babe. You always know the right thing to say.”
“Hey, baby, I need to get out of here. Coach Hindley and Coach Poehl are dying to get in here to see you. I’ll be outside in the waiting room, okay?”
“Give me a kiss.”
They kissed and Gayla left the room. Her coaches came in next. It was a crowded room, but they both apparently felt the need to check on their star.
“How you feeling?” Hindley asked.
“Stoned. How are you?”
Poehl laughed.
“Fair enough. How’s the knee?”
“I can’t feel it right now, which I’m guessing is a good thing.”
“The doctor said everything went perfectly,” Hindley said. “He said you should recover fully.”
“Yeah, but when?”
“It’s going to take time, but you should be one hundred percent. And then you’ll be back to being a menace on the field.”