Olivia only had two more basketball games before her season was over, and Dez was determined to make it to both. With everything going on with offsite scheduling and hosting an upcoming trainer certification course, he had managed to spread himself pretty thin.
Walking into the school gym, he glanced at his phone. Two minutes to spare. Cutting it close these days, Parker. He looked up in the stands and made his way to a spot next to Tracy who was there, sans twins, among the fans.
“Hey there. How’s it going?” He sat down beside her.
Tracy smiled. “Well, you haven’t missed anything but the warm-ups.”
“I’m not late. Where are the Wonder Twins?”
“Tony is picking them up tonight after taekwondo lessons.”
He nodded, easily spotting Olivia as she listened to her coach at the bench. “Nice. That oughta burn off some energy for you.”
She laughed as both teams took their places on the gym for the game to begin. “We sure hope so.”
They sat silently, watching the tip-off that put the ball into play. It was a slow game, watching gangly eighth graders play basketball, but Olivia was actually one of the better players.
“Good job, Olivia!” Dez yelled as she threw an inbound pass for a teammate to score. He leaned in to Tracy. “She’s gotten better this year. I’m bringing my mom to the last game. She will be blown away.”
“I know. I see a huge improvement from last year.” Her pride in Olivia was unmistakable. “She’s really been practicing.”
“She’s good enough to play next year in high school if she wants.” He mentally groaned.
High School. What the . . .?
“Let’s go, Olivia!” Tracy yelled and then looked over at him. “Yes, we should look into registering her for a few metro camps coming up.”
He nodded. “Right. I will get on that. I’ve just been so busy with Champions.” Guilt cut at him a little as he watched Olivia run down the court, dribbling and passing like the future star she was bound to be. He needed to keep on top of what she had going on. Diving into things at work had helped him tremendously, but it meant nothing if he made empty promises to Olivia.
The ref blew the whistle and Olivia stepped up to the free-throw line and calmly nailed two. She was undeniably good. And then Dez felt a twinge of disappointment, wishing Sabrina was there with him to see. She was missing a lot.
They all were, spread apart like they were. He hoped the results would be worth it, for all of them.
Dez found himself at loose ends late that next Friday night. He was pleased that his hard work was really paying off. What he wanted more than anything was to celebrate and share it with someone, most of all Sabrina, but that wasn’t an option. Restless, he didn’t want to go home.
He closed up his office and by nine o’clock he was waiting for Alex at one of his favorite watering holes called Jerseys. Alex, who was usually quite prompt in a business environment, tended to run late in his personal life. Dez passed the time waiting for him by playing pool and darts with some locals who obliged him by buying him drinks. By the time Alex got to Jerseys around ten thirty, Dez had made a few friends at the bar and downed his share of drinks in the process.
“Hey, buddy,” Alex said as he walked up to Dez and his new bar friends.
Dez turned around, displeasure with Alex on his face. “Nice of you to show up.” He turned back to the group he was talking to. “This is the guy I was talkin’ about. He is always late, but he’s my best friend. I wouldn’t be here without him. Alex, tell them.”
Alex nodded and held up a finger to wave to the four thirty-somethings doing shots.
“How long have you been here?”
“I got here at nine, like I said I would be. Of course your ass is gonna be late.”
“Ran into some baby mama drama, sorry. You seem a little lit to me.”
A little? Dez felt numb. Alex had no clue. “Maybe a little. Those people over there are diehard OU fans,” he said, pointing across the table, “so we’ve been shootin’ the shit and they’ve been buying me beers and shots, whiskey and shit.”
“Shots? Whiskey? This will be a fun night.” Alex’s comment reeked of sarcasm.
Dez was never much of a drinker and when he did decide to really drink, the night usually ended rough.
Alex took his cue and sat at the bar.
Dez worked the Oklahoma fans for another hour. He put Alex far back in his mind and hunched over the fans at the table to state his case for the fourth time. “So, with a show of hands, who thinks that collegiate athletes should be paid?” He waited for any hands to go up, but no one at the table raised theirs. The party of four was now six, with two guys from another table joining. “What? As a former college player,” Dez said, “I think they need some kind of stipend. Who’s with me? Anyone who’s with me, I’ll buy a shot.” Suddenly, six hands went up in the air at the same time.
Dez got up and made good his promise of a round at the bar. He turned to Alex with a laugh as the bartender poured the order. “See?” he said to Alex, who was nursing a beer. “Democracy. I love it.”
Before Alex could comment, Dez shuffled back to the table with a tray of full shot glasses for everyone.
Dez’s marathon drinking continued over talk about Sooner football, Big 12 football, the American Football Conference, the National Football Conference—the conversation seemed never ending. It normally never did end when Dez was drinking. That’s when he became “the talker,” and he knew it. It was a side of him Alex had seen before, he knew, but not lately.
Drunk Dez talked at length, became bossy, and was actually quite humorous to watch, or so he had been told. People had also told him had been known to pass out talking. He didn’t care—there were worse things.
Dez had just finished a diatribe of spectacular football stats when a couple of girls from the Oklahoma group—which now included three tables of patrons—came over with a camera phone and wanted their picture taken with him. He willingly posed and smiled and then pulled out his own phone to take a picture with them and ended up dropping it a couple of times. No one cared about the fumble. He pocketed the phone as another girl handed him her camera, giving him a flash of smile.
“Take one with me!” she chirped.
He held up the phone, it nearly disappearing in his large hand. “I’m used to footballs, not little phones.”
The girls giggled and pressed closer to him. The guys laughed and one ordered another round. One of the girls slid neatly to Dez’s side as he handed the phone back to the other girl. She looked up at him, her hands wandering to his phone in his back pocket.
He grinned and pushed her hand away. “Enough pictures for you,” he said, nudging her away.
Someone roared Dez’s football jersey number and everyone took a drink. Dez grabbed a second, saluting his former glory. The girls continued to hug and fawn over him, reminiscent of his years as a younger and unencumbered man. He eventually pulled slowly away and walked over to Alex at the bar.
Alex laughed, nodding at the fans. “Having fun?”
Dez cautiously gained a grip on the chair and sat down somewhat unsteadily on the barstool. The numbness, it felt so good, even if the room was slightly spinning. “Oh yeah, I could talk football all night. You know that.” He looked over at Alex and could feel the smile freeze on his face as he closed his eyes.
“Had enough? Huh?” Alex asked. “Want me to take you home?”
Dez nodded, considering one last drink to see him home. Passing on it, he made his rounds to say goodnight. That took another twenty minutes of talking and laughing and hugging with his new friends. He knew it irritated Alex, but finally, they made it out of the bar.
Dez dropped into Alex’s car five minutes later and resumed talking, but it wasn’t about football anymore. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of emptiness.
“Man, I appreciate you so much, Al. You know that?”
“Thanks. I appreciate you, too, buddy.” Alex started the car. “How you doin’?”
“I’m sad. I mean, I had a good time tonight, right?” Dez breathed a shot-laden sigh. “But I just keep feelin’ sad. I don’t like that.”
“Yeah. I don’t like you to be sad either.”
Dez closed his eyes and let the motion of the car take over. It was nice for someone else to be in control for a change. He just wanted to ride and not talk. There was enough talk going on in his head and he found it annoying.
Alex drove in silence for a few moments. “Dez, are you asleep?”
“No. Hey. What do you think I should do? I mean, I could call her, right?” His words were heavy, not quite slurred. “But what good has that done me? You know?”
“Okay, we’re talking about Sabrina now, right?”
“Well, who else?”
Alex chuckled. “Sorry, just trying to keep up with the conversation.”
“It’s just so hard, you know? It’s been months.” He polished a hand over his scalp, watching the street lights blur past. “You would think she would move back by now, right? You would think, right? Feels like it’s over to me.”
“No, man. Don’t think that way.”
Dez looked out the passenger side window for a long moment. No one really knew how he felt. How could they? It sucked. The whole thing sucked. “Feels like it to me, man.”
“Yeah, but . . .”
Dez shook his head, making the lights spin. Alex was always trying to give him hope. Tell hope to go fuckin’ fly a kite. “Yeah, but what? Don’t try to talk me out of this. I can’t help how I feel. And it feels like it’s over.” Annoyance welled in him. “Goddamn it!”
“Calm down.”
Dez sighed heavily. “You don’t know what it’s like, man.” He let his head sink heavily against the seat rest. “She’s not the same. The girl in the picture in my office doesn’t exist anymore. That was my girl, but she’s gone. Just . . . gone.”
“I know, buddy. It’s not fair. I really feel for you.”
They rode in silence for the next several minutes until Dez perked up again, realizing he hadn’t eaten since early afternoon. “Are you hungry? I need a burger.”
“You didn’t eat anything, did you? That’s why you are so trashed. Shit. Fine.” Alex searched the neon street signs. “Let’s get you a burger.”
He pulled into a fast food drive-thru within the next mile. Once it was their turn in line to order, Dez tried to get a better look at the menu. What came next was a series of missteps in the simple task of ordering food. Dez obnoxiously leaned across Alex’s lap, unnecessarily and repeatedly yelling into the intercom—ordering only fries and in fact no burger, after half a dozen changes—with an extra special request for ketchup.
“If you have it,” Dez added.
The order taker’s voice was tight with contained irritation. “Yes. We have ketchup. Pull around.”
Alex told the drive-thru worker he would have to use his hands to unclench his own teeth for the remainder of the drive home. The worker was not amused.
Dez ate his fries and kept talking as Alex drove. In moments, the food was gone and they were at Dez’s house. Alex managed to get the keys from him and get him inside, and then it was them and Sophie all bumbling down the hallway.
Dez made his way into his bedroom as he flopped his shoes off, took off his jacket, and plopped on the bed. He closed his eyes and lay there, feeling the coldness of the empty bed.
“What else could I do, man? I did everything. I was supportive, right? I didn’t pressure her . . . just tried to be there for-for-for her. Whadn’t good enough.” He turned to his side and curled up with Sophie, closing his eyes again. “Just whadn’t enough, I guess.”
The last thing he heard was Alex say, “Buddy, just relax.”
And then his eyes closed, and all Dez had were dreams of Sabrina in his arms.
Sabrina was happy when April called her and invited her to lunch with her and Renee. They had had a standing lunch date once a month for years, but Sabrina had to miss out the last few times so she could go to therapy. She felt like she had a lot to catch up on.
She had to admit she really missed her girls. They were supportive of her moving out, even though she knew neither of them really understood it. They had assured her, though, that they wanted her to be able to work through her issues, no matter what it took.
Sabrina arrived late for lunch due to a meeting that had run over, but she figured they would understand, being lawyers. She was smiling ear to ear when she approached the table, seeing two of her best girlfriends ogling the menu. It felt like old times.
“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m the late one. Never fails when I actually have lunch plans, someone has to keep asking questions to keep the meeting going.” She looked around at the airy, upper-tier establishment known for its regionally-sourced cuisine. “This place is really nice. Wait a minute.” She looked between them. “Is someone about to announce something? Okay, who’s pregnant?”
“Wow. Can’t take you anywhere.” April rolled her eyes and tucked her dirty blond hair behind her ears. Small and petite like Sabrina, April had often been told she bore a striking resemblance to actress Helen Hunt, something she herself did not see.
“Suspicious much?” said Renee, the free spirit of their threesome. Her dream was to one day retire and become a hippie.
“Sorry. We usually meet for lunch at a casual place. This is white tablecloths and fancy table settings. You’re throwing me here.”
“We just wanted to meet somewhere different,” Renee said. She adjusted her dark-rimmed glasses that stood out against her auburn spiked hair. “It is pretty nice, isn’t it?”
They all three nodded in unison and then Sabrina shook her head. The girls were changing it up on her. “So, how has everybody been?” she asked as she looked at Renee. “How are John and the kids? April, how is your crazy family?”
“You know, really busy. My kids go from soccer season to football season to basketball to baseball. I have no real life outside of that.” April laughed. “We are constantly going and going. Then there’s work. Don’t even get me started.”
“I know what you mean,” Renee chimed in. “Granted my kids are littler, but still, I can’t remember the last time I had a full-on phone conversation with a friend. I just don’t have the time. Isn’t that awful? Thank God for text and email or I would never keep in touch with you guys.”
“How are things over at Dan’s?” April asked. “You’ve been there three months or so, right?”
Had it been that long already? Sabrina hadn’t realized. “Well, I can’t really complain after hearing you guys. I go to work. I go home. I go to therapy, which is pretty intense. Sometimes I go shopping. I talk to my mom a lot more. And Mark and Dan have been great. They don’t really bug me, you know? Once in a while they cross the lawn for a visit but, for the most part, I hardly know they are there and vice versa.”
“That’s awesome, Bre,” said April. “I’m glad you are getting the time you need.”
“Can I ask you something?” Renee asked, adjusting her glasses out of nervous habit.
“Sure.”
“Do you have any contact with Olivia? I know you were close with her.”
“Yes. We text back and forth once in a while and I have spoken with her on the phone. I miss her.” Sabrina nodded. So much.
“Oh, that reminds me,” said April. “I went to the store the other day. You know how you look at magazines when you wait in line? Well, I saw this magazine cover that caught my eye. At first when I passed it, I thought to myself, ‘You know, that guy is hot.’ And then I did a double take and realized I know him.” She pulled out an issue of City Magazine with Dez on the cover and laid it on the table in front of Sabrina. “Did you know about this?”
Sabrina studied the cover photo, feeling close to him and yet further away than ever. He was posed with his arms crossed, looking dead-on into the camera, as if he was looking right at her. The title underneath him read, “Champions to Conquer the Corporate World.” That smoldering look on his face; he looks damn good. She let out a breath and swallowed hard, not taking her eyes off the magazine. He did it, just like he said he would. Way to go, hon.
“No, I didn’t,” she finally said. “I mean, not the article. I knew they were expanding. He’s been talking about it since last summer.”
“You guys talk, right?” Renee asked.
“We text mostly,” she said as her eyes were pulled back down to the photo on the magazine. She couldn’t stop looking at him and she knew they noticed. “Guys, I’m sorry. I just haven’t seen him since I moved out. Sort of caught me off guard.” Well, there was that moment that he’d shown up at her doorstep, but that was so brief, it didn’t really count.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” April said.
“No, no. You didn’t. It’s okay.” Sabrina looked up approvingly at April and then immediately back down again at the magazine, flipping through the pages to the article on Champions Club. The only thing that upset her was the fact that she hadn’t been there to support him and his success. “Can I keep this?”
“That’s why I brought it, but I almost kept it for myself. The cover photo—he is one fine lookin’ brotha—but the one inside with him and Alex . . .” April giggled. “Hot potatoes, let me tell you.”
Sabrina heard her talk, but she wasn’t listening. She lingered silently, lost in the magazine article. She was reading about someone she knew and loved as if he was a stranger, and she couldn’t help feeling sad at his doing so well.
“You know, Sabrina,” Renee said, pushing her specs up on her nose. “If you miss him, you should call him. Maybe go see him?”
April nodded quickly in agreement. “Seriously.”
“I know you guys mean well and you’re big Dez fans, I get that. I’m just rolling a lot of ideas around, and I don’t want to involve him or mislead him. There’s been enough damage done, and I was the one who moved out.” Sabrina sighed. “If and when I reach out to him, it’s because I am one hundred percent sure.”
Renee smirked. “Oh, honey. I just saw the way you reacted to a magazine with his face on it. If that’s not one hundred percent, then I don’t know what—”
“I’ve been checking out townhomes in Dallas.” Sabrina had to interrupt her. They had to know what she had been debating even though she knew they wouldn’t like it.
“Oh my God,” April said as she covered her mouth.
“Why?” asked Renee.
“It’s just something I am thinking about. I’m wearing a groove in the road going down there practically every weekend. My mom and Richard are looking for a place down there.” Sabrina’s finger traced the stem of her water goblet. “Maybe I need a change. Maybe I don’t need to park in that parking lot every day, you know? A whole change of scenery might make all the difference.” Duh. This shouldn’t be hard for anybody to figure out.
“Well, I, for one, think that would be a mistake,” said April very matter-of-factly. “I love you. I support you, but I have to tell you, this I don’t like.”
“Me either,” said Renee. “Selfishly, I think you need to stay. Does Dez know?”
“No.”
“Wow,” said April.
Sabrina could feel the heat of their stares, but they could apply all the pressure they wanted, it wouldn’t change anything. “I love you guys.” She gave them an innocent smile. “You know I do. Just humor me a little, okay? I could be on the brink of figuring this whole thing out. Just . . . be patient.”
She watched April roll her eyes and then blot them a little with her napkin.
“I’m sorry. I was just looking forward to the wedding, you guys getting married and being happy,” April said. “I’m still hoping for it, you know.”
Sabrina gave her hand a squeeze, appreciating how invested her friend was in her happiness. “Me, too, silly.”
A few days later, Sabrina sat waiting in Dr. Sam’s office, staring at her latest homework. She had recited it over and over to herself and was actually excited to be able to share it with someone. These thoughts were dark and ugly, but keeping them would do more harm than good. It was time to purge them.
Dr. Sam entered the room with his same oddly jovial smile. She didn’t always understand the timing of the smile, but she had come to appreciate it.
“So, how are we today?” he asked as he sat down in his chair.
She smiled guardedly. “We’re good. I’ve got something pretty controversial to share with you today.”
“Okay.”
“It’s not the closet memory. You said it didn’t have to be.”
He nodded. “No. You’re right. If there is something else there, we need to cover it, by all means. Go ahead.”
She took a deep breath and opened up her paper. “I have never shared this with anyone, not even Lindsie Barnhart. It’s direct and to the point and I am not proud of these thoughts. I want you to know that. I watched someone dying. And I actually enjoyed it.” Tears filled her eyes and she dabbed them a little with a tissue. “I’m not proud of that.”
Dr. Sam grinned at her this time, something that seemed totally appropriate. “You aren’t the kind of person that would be.”
She nodded, grateful for his assessment of her. “Right.”
Looking down at his recording device, he hit the button to start it. “So, go on, Miss Hutchens, when you are ready.”
She brushed her hair to the side and began. “I saw him come back from wherever he had been and sit down with the gun in front of me. I was still zip-tied to the chair. He grabbed my shin and freed one leg, cutting the zip tie with a small knife. Then he stopped and gave an evil smile, pointing the gun at me again, slow and steady. I figured this is it.” She paused to look up at Dr. Sam. “This is my time. And if these were my final moments, I didn’t want to spend them looking at him, so ugly and disgusting. I had to close my eyes to get away from him. So I focused on what would give peace in my last seconds. I envisioned my fiancé’s face, with his brown eyes and sweet smile, and I just held it there and talked to him about all the things we would never get to do.” She sniffled some and dabbed her eyes again. “And I waited. I waited for the gun to go off at my head, because that is where it was last pointed.
“Then, I heard the gunshot. It was so loud my ears were ringing. The smell, you don’t forget that smell. When I opened my eyes, I didn’t feel like I had been shot. I looked down at myself, but I didn’t see anything—no bullet hole. And then I looked down. There he was, lying on the floor with blood dripping down the side of his face. The shot had missed his temple so he wasn’t dead.
“That’s when I realized he had shot himself. And I knew I had a smile on my face that he could clearly see. I was crying but also smiling, and I couldn’t contain it. He managed to prop his hand up and point the gun in my direction. There I was, still naked and tied to the chair with a gun pointed at me, with this big, old, stupid smile on my face.” She laughed through her tears at her own boldness. “But how could I not be happy, seeing him suffer? The things he had done, it was justice right before my eyes.” She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and blow her nose.
“I could see he was failing as he kicked around and writhed in pain. He tried to grab at my one loose foot and I kicked back hard, my foot striking him in the head right where he had been shot.” Quickly, she looked over to Dr. Sam to gauge a reaction, but he gave none. “I kicked again and again. I couldn’t believe I did that. Then, he was out for a while after that and I thought maybe I had killed him. But he started to move again, mumbling things at me. Sometimes I could make them out and sometimes I couldn’t as he yelled and grunted something about killing me and suffering, over and over again. Then, finally, he let go of the gun and closed his eyes. I kicked him again and he didn’t move or react.
“If he wasn’t dead, I knew he would be soon. That’s when I stopped smiling and started working on freeing myself. I couldn’t find the knife, so I just did the best I could. Nothing else mattered.” Through a film of tears, she looked up at Dr. Sam.
He gave her a slight nod. “Miss Hutchens, you are very brave. Do you feel brave?”
Wiping her eyes, she folded up the paper and chose her words carefully. “I don’t know that I feel brave. I’m alive as much or more due to the grace or stupidity of a junkie. Real bravery to me is standing up and fighting against something. My attacker had a son. I can’t imagine the bravery it took to live with that man as his father.”
Dr. Sam leaned forward, offering her a kind of warmth she hadn’t known him to give. “Victims of circumstance are natural survivors. That is all they know. You were ripped from your world and dropped into a very different one. You found parts of you that you didn’t know you had.”
She let out a gasp at his description, both shocked and touched by it. “I . . . I suppose. But again, I am not proud of those parts.”
Then, she saw his smile turn soft and genuine. “But you should be. It is because of those parts that you are sitting here with me today.”
She left Dr. Sam’s office feeling empowered. No, she wasn’t overly proud and she didn’t feel exceptionally brave, but maybe he was right; she should on both accounts. You can’t change it anyway.
She opted to take a detour and drive by the little house again, but when she got there, there was no little house. It was just a flattened piece of land. So, they tore it down. Amen and hallelujah.
A small crew of construction workers was busy collecting debris and setting up the area for the new building, oblivious to what had taken place there last October. As she watched them preparing to dig a hole to eventually pour the foundation, she couldn’t help see the irony. She had been very busy tearing down walls and rebuilding them herself, and in that, she was proud and brave.