Chapter 34 #2
I trace a finger around her face. “This might be my new favorite color.” The perfect one to match other places on her body.
“I’m so going to get you pregnant,” I tease, lowering for a quick kiss because Tulane is present.
Ruthie chuckles against my lips. “We should probably talk about that. What it means for you?”
“What do you mean, what it means for me?” My earlier irritation slowly returns.
“Like, if I get pregnant, what will that mean for you? Do you want to be—”
My fingertips come to her lips. “I’m going to stop you right there before you say something that pisses me off. I want to get my wife pregnant because she wants a baby. I want a baby with her. You. Us.”
I stare at her, wondering what her train of thought is, and then realizing, I don’t want to know. Respectfully.
“This isn’t fake for me, Ruthie. I’m not certain our relationship ever has been. You’re my wife. That means I’m yours. And we . . .” I point between us. “Are forever. Not a year. Not a season. Not a contract. For life.”
Until death do us part and all that.
Ruthie blinks at me a few times. Then her eyes water. “I just thought . . . I mean, you mentioned a few weeks ago that when the year was over . . . so I thought . . .”
“You thought my God, my husband is an idiot because who talks about when a year is up.” I do my best impression of a female voice. “I also apologized for being a dumb ass.”
She chuckles, shaking her head and places her forehead against my sternum. Maybe she still thinks I’m counting down the days or checking off the months. Maybe she still thinks I’d step out on her, but I won’t.
The microwave beeps and Ruthie pulls out of my arms, leaving me with this strange sense of loss.
“I talked to Jared. He’d like you to call him.”
“Really?” Why would Jared want to speak with me? Ruthie works for him. I assumed all communication would be through her.
“He wants to talk to you about an opportunity.”
I tilt my head, waiting for her to explain but she doesn’t. Instead, she says, “Maybe you should call him now. Dinner will be ready in ten.”
+ + +
The phone call with Jared is not what I expected it to be.
“We have a promotion opportunity for you. Ruthie told me you love chocolate milk, and we reached out to the National Milk Campaign.”
I fall back in the chair Ruthie bought for the third bedroom slash office.
While sitting there, I glance around the room, noting all the little things she’s done in here.
A computer and two plants on a simple white desk beneath the window.
A rug on the floor. This chair. And pictures on the wall of Tulane and me.
I lean forward, narrowing my eyes, taking in the images.
Tulane and I pressed cheek to cheek. Her smiling wide. Our eyes are the same. Her hair brighter than mine, but she’s my kid, and she looks so happy.
As I glance from image to image, I wonder when Ruthie took all these pictures and when she made them into photos for the wall.
“Bolan?”
“Yeah.” I can’t take my eyes off the photographs, realizing Ruthie has made this room homey. She’s making this temporary living space feel permanent.
“So what do you think?”
“I’ve never done commercials before.” Never been approached to act as a spokesperson.
“It’d be great for your image. Family man drinking milk with his kid. Plus, you’d send the message that athletes enjoy milk. Your body alone would suggest milk made you grow big and strong, and that’s an angle the campaign wants to take.”
“Would Tulane be in the commercials, too?” I’m not certain I want my baby girl splashed across television, print advertisements, and the internet.
“Not likely. They’d use a slightly older child actor. One who can talk.” He chuckles. “It’s a great deal, Bolan.”
Next, he tells me their offering fee, and I almost fall out of the chair.
“Okay. Yeah. Sure. Sounds great.” I cough to clear my throat before he thinks I’m a bumbling idiot and won’t be able to handle the promos. “You can just let Ruthie know where and when and how.”
Jared is quiet a second. “I’ll have someone send over all the information. Have Floyd double check all the contracts, and then get back to me.”
“Of course. Thank you, Jared.” He’s done me a real solid here, and that money . . . That alone is worth it.
“Don’t thank me, thank Ruthie. She’s the one who advocated for you. Demanded a deal, actually.” His voice sounds off, despite the praise. He even sighs after he finishes. “We’ll talk soon.”
“Great.” We hang up, and I return to the kitchen, watching Ruthie plate food for Tulane, who is seated in the converted highchair-turned-toddler stool.
“How’d it go?” she twists only enough to glance at me over her shoulder, but I take the spoon from her hand and set the bowl in her other hand on the counter.
Then I cup her cheeks and kiss her with all I have. My tongue sweeps through her mouth like she’s the flavored drink I’m about to represent. I want every drop of her.
When I pull back, Ruthie follows my retreat, like she wants more of me and a strange image comes to my mind.
That girl from the kiss experiment leaning toward me, chasing after me like she wasn’t ready to let me go. It’s the oddest thing to think about considering I’ve just kissed my wife.
I drop my forehead to hers, listening to her breathe heavily.
“What was that for?” she chuckles lightly, the sound curious while flustered.
“Jared told me what you did. Thank you.” I give her another quick peck. “Thank you for pushing me on him, or standing up for me, or whatever you did.”
Ruthie giggles again. “I only want you to get what you deserve out of these next few years. I want you to know you’re worth more than some guy playing a game.”
She knows that’s how I view myself. What I worry people will think of me once I leave the sport. If people will ever think of me again.
With my hands on her jaw, I lean down and kiss her again, expressing with every tug on her lip and touch of my tongue, how grateful I am that she’s here.
As long as she finds me worthy, I’m a complete man.