Chapter 18 #3
“Leaving?” There was no accusation or pleading in her voice, only recognition of an already accepted conclusion. She was composed, but far from the cool woman she once played. This woman was harder to leave, with her proud, pain-filled eyes.
“I have to go. I have to see Lindy today, talk to her. Then there’s a shoot-around at noon.” He wouldn’t have come unless he knew he couldn’t stay.
“You shouldn’t have bothered to come.” She turned from him and walked to the window overlooking the deck. He couldn’t stand it.
“I didn’t want to leave it like this between us, Rox.” He spoke without thinking. When she turned back to look at him, he felt vulnerable. That wasn’t what he wanted either.
“What do you want, Brian?” she asked with her unblinking wide eyes.
“I don’t know. I want you. I want Lindy. I want basketball. I want it all.” He sucked in his gut ready for a blow. He must be crazy.
“Can you handle it all?” She asked the question he’d been claiming to know the answer to all along. It was still true.
“No. Damn it to hell. I can’t fucking handle it all.
But it’s there anyway, isn’t it? It’s fucking life, isn’t it?
Do we really get to choose what we can handle or not?
” He grabbed her by the shoulders again and penetrated her eyes with his.
He saw his reflection and knew she could see everything inside him.
“Everyone makes their choices. One way or another.” She sounded resigned.
She pulled away from his grasp and he could see clearly what her choice was going to be.
She didn’t want a piece of Brian Dennis.
He’d known all along it would be all or nothing with her.
She would not be playing any more games with him.
He stepped back and turned away, willing himself to cool off, to calm down. “I have to go.”
“Then leave. I didn’t ask you to come here.” Her voice was surprisingly angry.
“I’m sorry you won’t be able to see Lindy anymore.” The words came from nowhere, but he meant them. He saw her flinch, but then fury creased her brow and lit her eyes.
“She doesn’t want to see me, you God damned fool. She wants you. YOU. And all you do is talk about stepping up as if you have all the time in the world to talk yourself into being a real parent. Which is what you should have been all along instead of some mildly interested half-assed ‘uncle’ type.”
“What the…”
“You had a father? Remember? Remember how interested he was in you? How he devoted himself to you? Your daughter deserves the same and it’s time you stopped playing games with her.
All you ever do is play games. You’ve done nothing all your life but play games as if that was all there was to life.
Life is not a fucking game, Brian. Not with me and most importantly not with your daughter. ”
“Who the hell are you to talk?” He couldn’t let her get away with this. She was no better.
“I’m a woman who was once a girl like Lindy with a dead mother and an asshole father who was absent in every way that it counted.” She stood with hands on her hips within touching distance and her face glowing pink with rage.
He felt like there was a black tumor in his gut rising to his throat. Dizziness crept in from the sides of his mind, threatening to shut down his thinking. But he stared at her and thought about Roxanne as a little girl. He pictured Lindy. When he spoke his voice felt rusty and hollow.
“It’s about your father isn’t it? He’s why you …do everything you do.” He almost accused her of not trusting men. But that was too simple for what she was about.
“No. It’s about your father. He trained you to be single-minded in your pursuit of the Holy Grail.
‘To be the Best’ to a fault.” She paused and looked at him as if he might be too battered an opponent to take another punch at before continuing.
“But let me ask you—do you think if he were alive he would mind after all if you devoted yourself to your daughter? Ask yourself that.”
He would have responded. If the dizziness didn’t take over again.
She walked from the room and disappeared before he could say anything more. Not that he knew what else to say. He knew he didn’t want to leave her like this. But she was right. And he had to leave.
“Shit.” He stood for a minute feeling raw, staring at the shining ceramic kitchen floor. He looked at his shaking hand half expecting it to be bloody too, before raking it through his hair to steady himself. Then he finally moved to go.
“You still here?” He turned to see Bonnie walking into the kitchen from where Roxanne had disappeared. He gave her a quick smile he didn’t feel.
“Have some coffee with me.” She poured some in a cup.
“No thanks. I was on my way out. I have to go.” He moved toward the back door.
“So I heard,” she said. He wondered how much she’d heard.
“You did? Then tell her for me I’ll be back.” He nodded at the older woman. With his legs barely functional, he walked out the door.
As he gripped the stick shift of his Porsche winding through streets of Marblehead, he was thankful that he’d taken the sports car.
Manipulating the five speed stick gave him something to concentrate on.
He didn’t want to think about Roxanne’s question, so he thought about why he’d said he’d be back.
He didn’t know, but he felt a lot better having said it.
He shouldn’t go back.
He would.