Arizona Allspice (57 page)

My mother passed away and I just put the pain in a box inside of me. Raul broke up with me, I was sad for a day and then I shut the pain away and moved on. Joey…I just can’t compartmentalize him. He’s too great to fit into a box. It makes me so angry with myself. Isn’t my mother greater than some dude that I like? But he’s not just “some dude.” I know that what I feel for him will never go away, but I don’t know if I have the ability to ignore the past and stop it from ruining our future.

THIRTEEN

I don’t want to hear even a sigh of annoyance from anyone on my team. I’m putting myself through the same rigorous practice as they are. As we run “suicides” across the length of the field, the only sound is that of our hard breathing and our shoes thumping against the ground. Any disgruntled huffs or whines of exhaustion, and I will make them start over again. While darting back and forth across the field and keeping my team members in check, I notice a red Durango nearing the field and then parking beside the goal. Once I swipe away the sweat dripping into my eyes I get a clear view of the
well dressed
gentlemen that step out of the vehicle. They’re the bosses. The most important of the four men is simply referred to as the Boss. I watch as they walk out to the sidelines, careful not to get dirt on their leather loafers, and mutter to each other as they survey my team.

“Do your legs feel like rubber bands?” I ask my team members once our exercise is finished.

“Yes, captain!” They respond somewhat in unison.

“Good to hear! You have five minutes to hydrate yourselves! Go!” They each grab a bottle of water from the cooler and promptly collapse onto the ground, still trying to catch their breaths. Before I can reach the cooler for my own bottle of ice-cold elixir of life, the Boss whistles to get my attention. He beckons me over by waving two fingers. The three other bosses stand with their arms crossed. The Boss stands in front of them fingering his mustache with his head tilted to the side.  I walk up to them and nod. Each man except for The Boss nods back.

“You’re looking good on the field,
Fuego
. Even better than you were before the accident,” says The Boss.

“That’s because I’m more focused then I’ve ever been.” 

“My partners are concerned that you’re moving too well for someone who had the back of their skull smashed in.”

 
What?
These guys halted all the soccer matches because of my accident, putting me under an incredible amount of pressure to recover, and then when I recover they question whether I recovered
too well
? This is some bull…

“You’ve been taking medication,
sí
?
”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think it is fair to say that our bettors want all the players to be clean of any drugs in their system that might enhance their performances.”

“The medication I take is for the tremors in my hand and the bad spasms I get in my leg muscles.” I hold out my left hand. “As you can see, they aren’t miracle drugs.” The bosses all frown at my trembling hand.

“What we care about is the integrity of the game. There’s no way to prove that the drugs you are taking aren’t somewhat aiding you in terms of your muscle tone or your pain threshold. The only way to remove all doubt is for you to discontinue using those drugs.”

 At that point I wanted to rip his cheesy mustache off of his face. I’m dealing with the side effects of those pills. I’m still in pain. I’m dealing with vision problems that medication can’t fix. How am I not at a disadvantage?

“I see,” I finally say once I unclench my jaw.

“Just tell my partners here that you won’t take any more medication,” The Boss says and then winks.

I smirk. “You have my word.” The bosses all nod and return to the devil red Durango truck. I saunter back to the field.
“On your feet!
Let’s go!” I yell to my men after I get a few gulps of water. They lazily stand up from the grass like heavily perspiring zombies. “That was flat out dispassionate and disrespectful! Get back down and give me twenty! And when you’re done, stand up straight and with pride, like you actually have some balls between your legs!”

I end practice at eleven and return home for lunch. I have the house to myself since Mom is at work. As I sit in front of the television and eat my triple-decker turkey club sandwich, I feel my medication wearing off. I’m supposed to take a dose around lunch time. The Boss doesn’t care if I take them, but his partners might be right. What if the drugs are helping me in some way? Winning the finals will be even sweeter if I know in my heart that it was all me and not drugs making the perfect passes or scoring the incredible goals. Besides, I’m tired of those little white pills controlling my life. Two hours after I’ve taken the pill bottles from my nightstand and tossed them into the trash, I become the most irritable, bitter bag of short circuiting nerves ever known. I’m not even cheerful to see Elaine when she drops by, but I’m not in too much pain to forget what I need to tell her.

******

  When Joey opens the door, he doesn’t welcome me inside so much as he grumbles “Hello” and steps aside. I wonder momentarily if he’s upset that I abandoned him at the party last night.

“Is something wrong?”

“I had a rough practice this morning,” he sighs before plopping down onto the sofa. I find myself fiddling with my hands. I rehearsed my speech last night and this morning, but this is still going to be hard. I walk to the couch and sit close beside him. He just studies my face with his tired eyes. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t try to hug me closer to him. He’s not his usual playful self. I didn’t prepare for this scenario. I look away from him and try to compose myself. Just as I’m about to open my mouth he asks, “Have you gone to the Oaks Cemetery yet?”

I shake my head.

“Do you want to go?”

“I haven’t gone back since the funeral,” I say hesitantly.

“Let’s go pay her a visit.”

I frown. Visiting a slab of marble and a square of grass does not replace visiting my mother. Today is the anniversary of a nightmare. I don’t want to revisit the place that reminds me the nightmare is a solid reality instead of a dim memory. There’s nothing more permanent than a name etched in stone.

“I need to tell you something very important, Laney. Something you might not believe at first. Being at her grave will help you see that I am being truthful to you.” He notices the wave of panic wash across my face. “Don’t worry,” he takes my hand in his and gently squeezes it. “I promise it’s nothing horrible.”

As we walk further into the cemetery, I grip his hand tighter. The place is too beautiful. The grass is thick and healthy and a few benevolent old trees cast soothing shade from the sun whose warm beams ripple across the surface of a charming duck pond nearby. Resting places dot the landscape for miles, it seems. My legs feel like there are sand bags tied around my ankles. Terrified, my eyes dart around the cemetery. I don’t remember where my mother’s grave is located. I had erased the knowledge from my memory. Joey knows exactly where to go. His walking finally slows and I know we have arrived at the spot.

Instantly, tears well up in my eyes once I see the headstone. As I stand frozen, biting the inside of my mouth to stop myself from whimpering, Joey releases my hand and sits down in the grass, very close to the pink marble stone which has a female angel carved into it beside the words
A Mother, A Wife, An Angel
. He places fresh white lilies in the brass vase and uses his fingers to brush away the light film of dirt that had settled onto the smooth surface of the marker.

He uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his face. My knees buckle and I lower myself onto the ground to sit next to him. I’ve never seen Joey cry before. I lean closer to him and entwine my fingers with his again. Tentatively, I reach my right hand out and run my fingertips over my own name in my mother’s name. Her middle name was Elaine. After a few quiet minutes, Joey clears his throat.

“Elaine, I…I’ve never told anyone about this. Not Manny. Not even my mom. A few months ago I had a very vivid dream. You were in it. Miss
Marna
was there, too.”

Joey reveals to me the dream in which he was at my funeral. He said he saw my name on the headstone. My entire name; first, middle and last, even though he hadn’t known my middle name at the time. My mother came to him in the dream and told him to take care of me.

“I hope you believe me,” Joey says softly.

 “I do.” I meet his gaze. I believe every word. It saddens me that I have never experienced any communication with my mom. Maybe Dad really has spoken to Mom. Mostly, I feel at peace with the decision I have made about my relationship with Joey. At least I know that Mama approves of him being in my life. “You did a very good job of taking care of me,” my smile wobbles with emotion. He looks away from me with a small smile and bows his head humbly. I wrap my hand around his arm, my fingers hug around his bicep, and I rest my head onto his shoulder. He lovingly kisses me on the forehead. I sigh and marvel at how that little kiss from him makes me completely content, even here in Oaks Cemetery. “I thought about what you said last night at the party. I thought about…

everything
.”

 I glance up at him and he has an eager but serious look on his face. It’s not easy for me to talk right or think straight with those blue eyes of his studying me. My throat feels dry and my tongue is suddenly uncoordinated. I release my hold on his arm and sit up straight.
Mama, help me say the right thing.

******

I wait patiently for Elaine to speak. She takes a deep breath, exhales, and tries to keep her nervous hands flat on the grass. Whatever she says next is going to end us or give us a chance. I am a little anxious to hear what she has to say, but not too anxious. I’ve learned my lesson about being too optimistic.

“Joey, first off, I want you to know that I’m not ungrateful. I appreciate every thought and every action you’ve made to keep me safe, secure and happy.” Her voice breaks. “You are an amazing person. I can’t even wrap my head around how selfless you are. Whether you believe it or not, I think you would be the best father any kid could ask for,” she smiles. I swallow. “You’re a great guy,” she says more quietly, “Always have been.” Her eyes leave mine to gaze at the grass. She shakes her head. Her eyes return to my face. “But…” she trails off.

I immediately roll my eyes. She’s going to give me some excuse, some misconception, some flaky reasoning for why her being with me just isn’t going to happen. I stand up and step back from her before I have to hear anymore. Elaine watches my reaction and her mouth falls open while her brows crumple.

Skipping my medication has somehow demolished both my mental and emotional floodgates, so the questions that I’d held inside me start to fly out of my mouth. I don’t raise my voice, but her wide eyes register that she gets my message.
“
But
?
What exactly is it that just isn’t good enough because I’m so done trashing myself because of you. Why didn’t you give me the time of day in high school? Why couldn’t you once just give me a chance? Tell me the truth. You think I’m ugly?
Stupid?
Is it because I’m white?” Elaine stands up from the grass, shaking her head furiously. “Say it, Elaine. Put me out of my misery and just say it. Allow me some dignity, for once. Give me permission to stop kidding myself. Just
say
it
.”

“Because I thought you were perfect!” she cries.