Chapter 15 #2
“I couldn’t very well have a basketball hoop put in your room without giving you a ball to throw through it, now could I?
” She couldn’t resist mentioning the second part of her surprise.
She’d talked his doctors and nurses into it only because they’d been desperate to try anything to help his poor performance in PT.
“No? You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m serious. Go see for yourself.” With that, he insisted his parents take him to try it out and Brian promised to come by sometime and try it out too.
“You realize, of course, that you’re going to have to visit him now and make good on your promise?” Roxanne told Brian as soon as Mike was out of earshot. This was the second commitment she’d heard him make to the kids tonight.
“I know. I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
“That’s why you don’t make promises.”
“Not often.”
“Until tonight. Let’s go see Lindy now,” she said.
He frowned at her. “You don’t have to come with me,” he said.
But the way he looked at her, it seemed like he wanted her there even though he knew it was his responsibility.
She scoffed at herself for trying to read too much into that one look.
But he so rarely gave anything away that the temptation was too great.
“Of course I will. Al’s not here and there won’t be any media lurking around her room.
I promise I won’t get you in trouble. The party’s under control here.
I’ll come back later to help clean up. Besides, I have a gift for her.
” Her nerves suddenly shook her as she thought of the gift.
She was taking a big chance. She chewed her lip as they rode the elevator up.
She coached herself to get past whatever Brian and Lindy’s initial reactions were—because they were bound to be bad.
She knew it would be worth it in the long run.
In fact, as they stepped into the hall and headed toward Lindy’s room, Roxanne became convinced that the little girl would treasure this gift for a long time.
***
“Daddy!” Lindy straightened when they walked in the room.
He fought the inward recoiling he felt when she called him that.
His reaction seemed to have gotten far worse these days.
Now that his responsibilities as her dad had grown more real.
Fatherhood was no longer a notion that loomed on the periphery of his world.
It had intruded with a full vengeance on his consciousness.
He had to work hard to quell his defenses against the assault.
He smiled. She gave him such an eager bright grin in return, his mind eased.
“How are you, angel? We missed you at the party.” He walked to the plastic tent that separated them and put his arm into the rubber glove that allowed him to pat her head and stroke her long light hair.
The desire to hug her right then squeezed his chest tight.
He touched her shoulder. His guilt must be getting the better of him.
“But you didn’t miss everything, Lindy. Santa had a few presents for you. We brought them along.” Roxanne brought a package from behind her back. She’d stashed it in Lindy’s room earlier.
Brian cleared his throat. “I have a few things for you too. Pretty soon when you get out of this contraption you’ll have an army of things to play with.”
Lindy looked at him, then to Roxanne and back again.
Her eyes brightened. Then she burst into tears and clutched at his rubber-clad hand held to her shoulder.
Jesus, he couldn’t take this. He wasn’t cut out to be a little girl’s father.
Her tears ripped at his soul. God damn that woman for dying and condemning this poor little girl to him!
He swept his free hand over his face and held onto her shoulder, desperate for something to say, when Roxanne spoke.
“What is it, honey? It’s all right. You cry if you want to. Tell us all about it.” Roxanne had moved to the other side of the tent and put her arm into the glove on that side to comfort his child. He lifted his eyes to her face.
He only hoped what he felt didn’t show. Raw anguish. He looked back at Lindy.
“I want Mommy,” Lindy cried, her pleading eyes locked on his.
That was it. He stood and removed his hand from the glove, startling both Lindy and Roxanne. Then he reached up and unfastened the plastic and pushed it aside. He had seen them do it when they had to examine her. Her wide eyes had lost the pleading and her tears stopped. He smiled.
He bent down over her bed carefully. And as if she were as fragile as a snowflake, he moved close, gathered her in his arms and held her.
She clutched him and her tears started up again in a soft sobbing.
But this time he could stand it. This time it felt like there was more hope than despair in those sobs.
Or maybe it was in himself he felt that hope.
“Brian,” Roxanne uttered his name on a sob, then whirled around before he looked up. She rushed from the room. He wanted her back. He wanted her to hold him like he was holding his daughter. The thought slipped by his consciousness before he could stop it. He cursed himself for it.
Eventually his daughter stopped crying and fell asleep. He straightened himself. Unfolding his limbs and turning, he was startled to see Roxanne there with Dr. Oki, watching him.
***
Everyone else went home except Brian and Roxanne. He stayed to clean up after the party. But there he sat on the uncomfortable couch with her in the visitors’ lounge, talking about life. He felt compelled to talk to her and, at the same time, he fought the notion that it was a stupid thing to do.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me this season. No. I guess that’s not true completely,” he said.
“What is it? Some mysterious virus invented by a mad doctor the LA Lakers hired to stop you?”
They laughed.
“I wish. Then I’d have someone to blame besides myself.”
“Don’t be crazy. You’re dealing with a crisis.
In spite of what the media says, you’ve always been mortal.
Maybe you were given a brief sojourn on Mount Olympus, but now you’re back down here with the rest of us.
You should be proud of your career even if you never make another basket,” Roxanne insisted.
“You talk like it’s an easy trip down off Mount Olympus.”
“No. I know it’s not. I’ve seen firsthand how the very people who put you on a pedestal, have been the first to deride you for your sudden clay feet,” she said. “That can’t feel too good.”
He laughed again and heard the bitterness sound through. “I’m only thirty-one years old, Roxanne. Clay feet aren’t supposed to come for years. I’m supposed to be at my pinnacle. People were expecting big things this season. This was supposed to be my best season yet.”
“There you go, believing your press again. What do they know? Do they know you? What you really want? What you need? And what it cost you to get to this point?” Her voice was intense. He studied her face as he considered her words.
“I have a feeling they don’t care.” He wondered if she cared.
“It’s been all my own doing after all. This is what I wanted, what I’ve always wanted and needed.
And I never paid attention to the cost before.
” He thought of Lindy and looked away from Roxanne.
He shrugged as if the gesture could rid him of the despair that seemed to be overtaking him.
How the hell had he gotten into this discussion with Roxanne?
He should stop now before he said any more, before either of them said something they couldn’t forget or ignore.
But the part of his mind that was thinking those self-preserving thoughts was not in control.
And as he opened his mouth, he suspected that his hormones might be in charge.
And therefore she had control over him. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, and then faced her.
“My ambition at any cost was self-inflicted, and my failures have been self-inflicted too. And I don’t know why.
I don’t know why it’s suddenly so difficult to want to be the best, to want to win every night.
What used to be automatic for me now takes a major effort of will. And I don’t always have it.”
Roxanne laughed a gentle laugh. “You’re burnt out, Brian.”
Anger flashed through him and he looked at her as if she held the torch.
“Burnt out? What the hell does that mean? That’s an empty cop-out phrase.
The bottom line is…I don’t want to lose my ambition.
I do still want to win. I still want to be the best. But…
” He looked blankly at her. His anger drained from him.
This is what he could never figure out. But what? What’s changed?
“Maybe you want more than that, Brian. Maybe you’re tired of paying the price.”
He sucked in his breath and jumped back from her touch. “The hell I am. I’m working harder than ever.” He looked away from her and shut down his mind. No way was he tired of winning; of being the best. What else was there?
She shifted closer and stroked her finger along his tensed jaw line. It didn’t help him relax any. He grabbed her hand and pulled it from his face. He didn’t want to talk to her anymore. He looked into her eyes and remembered the first night they talked, when they spoke of the same things.
But it was different now. She was different now. The twinkle of her smile was still in her eyes, but there was something else there too. Concern? Did she really care for him, or was he merely an opponent in a game? Someone to play with?
“Honey, you may be working harder than ever, but I also know you’re playing harder than ever—and I don’t mean basketball. There’s nothing wrong with that.”