Fair Game: A Football Romance (47 page)

“Daddy hurt Mommy that bad?” Summer says so softly from the backseat I almost didn’t hear her. She starts to sob into her hands, and Davy unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs over the seat to hold her.

“Where’s Dad?” Davy asks in a hard voice while he strokes Summer’s long blond hair and she cries on his shoulder.

Big brother is stepping up to take his place as the man of the family at the tender age of eight. I can’t let him do that. He’s just a kid. He has ten years to have fun and be carefree.

“He’s in the city jail.”

“No!” Summer wails, and Davy hugs her harder.

“I want Daddy back. I want Mommy to come home.” Summer is beside herself with grief. In a way, she’s lost both of her parents without actually losing them.

“Summer, listen to me, we can go see Mommy tomorrow, but it might be a little while before you see your daddy.”

Like forever, if that fucker gets what he deserves. I don’t care how wonderful he’s been in the past. What he did to my sister and daughter today makes him a monster forever in my book.

“We can see Mommy?” Summer squeaks with hope rising in her voice. I shouldn’t sugar coat it, but damn if these kids haven’t been through enough already.

“Yes, tomorrow. Tonight, we’re going to my house, and my girlfriend, Violet, is going to come and help me take care of you until this is all sorted out.”

“I’m scared,” Summer says, burying her face back into her brother’s shirt.

“I know you are, honey. I am too, but we have to be strong for your mom, okay?”

Nobody says another word as we drive to my house. When we pull into the garage, I cut the engine and close the door.

“Okay, guys, now I know things are rough right now, but I have a couple of rules at my house.”

“Don’t touch anything, don’t eat anything, don’t use the bathroom,” Davy drones like he’s heard it a thousand times before.

I twist in my seat to face them huddling in the back like two disaster survivors, and they sort of are in a way. They’re survivors of a fucked up father who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or his ass out of trouble.

“Where did you hear that?” I ask Davy.

“Mom always cleans before you come for dinner, and that’s what she says for like the whole afternoon before you get there.”

Great, time to go on a guilt trip. My sister didn’t let her kids pee because I was coming over. That’s fucked up. Am I really that bad? I just always thought she was an impeccable housekeeper.

“No, actually, I never knew your mother told you those things. My rules are that you always take your shoes off at the door before you go inside, if you get something out, you put it away when you’re finished using it, and clean up a mess if you make one.”

“That’s just like Mrs. Conway’s rules at school, ‘cept for the shoes. We gotta keep our shoes on all the time,” Summer says.

Davy looks relieved, and I’m having serious anxiety. Davy was right. I’d rather have them not touch anything, don’t eat, and don’t use the bathroom, but that’s unrealistic when they’re going to be living here. God, I need Violet right now. I should have gone to get her before I brought them home. Now I’m going to have to leave the little wild ones alone to go and get her.

“I wanna go see Mommy. I don’t wanna go inside and take my shoes off,” Summer whines.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Davy, you want to go see your mom instead of waiting until tomorrow?”

“Yes, please.”

“All right, put your seatbelt on back there and let’s go.”

I open the door and back out of the driveway, and my anxiety evaporates the further away from the house we get. Yep, definitely need Violet for this one.

I text her and tell her I’m on my way with the kids, and she shoots me a message right back.

Violet -
You sure that’s a good idea? She’s in pretty bad shape. Did you tell them what happened? I love Sabrina, btw. She’s an awesome person. You’re lucky to have her in your life.

Me
- I told them, they’re pretty shaken up, but we tried to go home and I can’t go in without you. They also really need to see one of their parents right now, so yeah, good idea or not, we’re coming. I’m glad you like Rina. Don’t get too attached, though. You’re mine.

Violet
- ?

Me -
Sabrina might fall for you. She’s a sucker for a beautiful woman.

Violet
- Oh, wait, I thought you said she was married to a Marine when she saved Malory.

Me
- She was.

Violet -
A female Marine?

Me -
No.

Violet -
Uh, okay, confused, but we will discuss later. I love you and only you. Don’t worry about me switching sides or whatever it is you’re worried about.

I shouldn’t mess with her, but it’s hard to resist, and really, Sabrina is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever set eyes on. She’s tall and lean, with waist-length, jet black, silky hair and almond-shaped grey eyes. She’s mesmerizing. I’m willing to bet she’s made a woman or two rethink their gender preference. Sabrina was married to Nick. He was a Marine and he was KIA in Iraq. Sabrina and Nick were swingers, and now it’s a toss up as to whom she brings to a function or a party.

Me –
1. Good to know. 2. I’m on my way. 3. Stay three steps away from Rina. 4. This sucks. 5. Thank you for being here to help me. 6. I love you too.

It feels so good to make a list, even if it’s for nothing but to say I love and appreciate Violet. Another message pings right away after my list.

Violet -
7. You’re crazy. 8. Sabrina doesn’t hold a candle to you. 9.I don’t swing. 10. Agreed, this sucks. 11. I love you more.

I smile down at my phone in my hand while we sit at a stoplight. I should put the phone away and set a better example for the kids. Having kids around reminds me of boot camp. Someone’s critiquing your every word and action. That’s how I’m going to think of this from here on out. Kiddy boot camp. I can do this, with some help.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Violet

Hope

Malory is so still. Kids aren’t supposed to be this still unless they’re exhausted and sleeping in their bed after a long day of playing in the park, not sedated because their little brain can’t process watching an Uncle nearly beat an Aunt to death.

Sabrina and I switched places for an hour so she could spend some time with Sam. Apparently, Sabrina and Sam became friends when Sabrina moved to California after her husband died overseas. She had no family in the UK or America, and she and Major had never lost contact, so Oceanside was the logical place for her to build a life.

When she walked into Malory’s hospital room, I choked on my own spit when I gasped. It was embarrassing, but she acted as if nothing had happened and hugged me like an old friend. I can’t imagine Major and Sabrina being
only
friends. There’s not a red-blooded man on the planet she couldn’t have with her exotic beauty. Throw in her British accent, and she’s killer.

Dressed in Victoria’s Secret pink sweat pants, a t-shirt and matching jacket with Nikes on her feet, she was hotter than any runway model. She kissed Malory and sat on the bed next to her. Malory slept like a blonde version of sleeping beauty while Sabrina spun stories about handsome princes and beautiful fairies. When I complemented her on her creative imagination, she told me she’s a romance writer. I can totally see Sabrina as a writer. Something about her screams,
creative good vibes right here, get your feels on with Sabrina!

Major texted me that he was on his way with the kids and Sabrina thought it best to go and be there when they arrived. She is the same as family to them. The kids stair step in age, six, seven and eight, making her a constant presence throughout their lives. It will be good to have two adults there to comfort them when they see their mother.

I’m proud of Major. He told them what happened, no beating around the bush or procrastinating, just straight up told them. I’m sure he’s done difficult things as a Marine, and I’m sure his military family stood by him, but it’s different when your biological family is hurting.

Are Samantha and Major biological siblings? I never thought to ask, not that it makes much difference, but it would be good information in case of an emergency. I’ll have to ask him about that later.

I wish I didn’t have to meet every single person that Major loves on the worst day of their lives, or at least one in their top ten. I have a list of at least twenty of the worst days of my life somewhere. It helps me appreciate the good days and how truly blessed I am.

It’s been an hour since he texted me he was on his way. I wonder how the kids are handling seeing their mother bandaged and bruised. I lean back in a chair next to Malory’s bed and rest my head back, looking at the ceiling tiles. I wonder how many children have had to lay here in pain, staring at the same tiles. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought. I hate hospitals. Kids should never have to visit one unless they’re being born.

I hear a whimper and snap my head up to see Malory’s eyes fluttering open. She doesn’t know me, and this has been so traumatic, I’m afraid to say anything for fear of throwing her back into hysteria. I wait for her to see me. She doesn’t frighten. She has no reaction at all. She’s flat and emotionless, almost like she can see straight through me. Maybe she’s not all the way awake yet. Do I approach her and risk a meltdown or hang back and let her come to me?

The thought no more enters my head than she reaches out her hand for me. Slowly, I lean forward. She keeps reaching, and I keep inching toward her. When I’m on the edge of my chair and the tips of our fingers touch, she curls hers around mine, pulling me closer. I stand and move to sit on the bed with her, and she sits up and hugs me, clings to me, squeezes me so tight it almost hurts.

“Malory, I’m your daddy’s friend, Violet. I wanted to be here when you woke up. How are you feeling?”

Stupid question. Her world just fell apart and she’s sitting in a hospital room with some strange woman named after a flower without her mother and siblings.

She doesn’t answer, she just grips the material of my shirt at my sides in tight little wads, holding on for dear life. That’s okay, sometimes all you need is a hug. I wrap my arms around the beautiful little girl and breathe in the faint scent of strawberry shampoo in her hair.

We stay like this, her silently holding on, me doing my best to comfort a stranger without words for a long time until a nurse enters the room.

When she sees me, I try to convey that I am out of my element with a
help me, I’m crashing
sort of look. She understands and bends at the waist to speak to Malory.

“Are you hungry, Malory? Or thirsty? I can bring you something if you want,” she offers.

Malory shakes her head no.

“All right, would you like to see your daddy?”

She nods up and down vigorously and launches herself out of the bed into her arms.

“Oh! My goodness, you really do want your daddy, don’t you?” she says with a chuckle.

Then she looks at me suspiciously, or at least I feel like its suspicion.

“She’s never met me before. I’m her father’s friend,” I say as if that were a perfectly good reason for this child to be leaping out of my arms. She stands with Malory wrapped around her like a monkey.

“I’ll just go call her father,” she says, walking away with my charge. I’m supposed to be making sure she’s all right, not letting some stranger walk off with her. I get up and follow them out the door to the nurse’s station, where nurse Jane fuzzy wuzzy is about to call Major.

“I can text him if you like. He’s visiting his sister in ICU.”

This news seems to set her at ease. “Yes, that would be fine.”

Me –
Malory’s awake. She’d like to see you.

Major –
Almost there.

“He’s already on his way.”

“Thank you. We have to be really careful with our patients,” she says.

“No problem, it’s reassuring to know she’s being looked after so well,” I say, and I mean it. This little girl’s been through enough. She deserves to feel safe.

Major arrives, flanked by a shell-shocked Davy and a pale, frightened Summer. He’s shown me photographs of them several times so I know what they look like, although in the photo, they were laughing and rosy cheeked, playing in the water at a water park.

Summer is a little clone of her mother, with blonde hair and coral blue eyes, but Davy actually resembles a young Major. They must be biological brother and sister. No way could he look that much like Major without some of the same chromosomes.

Major walks behind the nurse’s station to get Malory with no regard to the hospital’s policy on patient privacy. He loosens her fingers from the middle-aged nurse’s neck and pulls her into his arms and holds her against his chest so hard she whimpers.

I reach out to touch her back with one hand and his arm with the other. “Hey . . . is everything all right?” I ask softly, looking into his bloodshot eyes.

“No, we need to get back to Sam, all of us.” The way he says
all of us
causes my heart to drop into my stomach. Something’s happening with Sam, and he wants us all at her bedside.

“I need discharge papers for her or an AMA form—whatever’s fastest—we need to leave.”

I glance down at the kids. Summer is crying now, and Davy has moved to her side to hold her hand. God, please don’t let their mother die, especially at the hands of their father. They will have to live with that for the rest of their lives.

Malory whines again and squirms in his arms. “Major, I think you’re hurting her. Why don’t you let me take her while you get the papers signed?”

I round the desk and walk behind Major so Malory can see me. I hold out my arms and raise my eyebrows, asking her if she wants to come to me, and she does more than willingly.

“That’s a good girl, let’s let Daddy talk to the nurse, and we will go over here with Davy and Summer.”

I take Malory to a nearby bench with the other kids in tow. When I sit down, Summer starts to talk to Malory and Davy takes her hand.

These kids know how to bond together in a crisis, that’s for sure. The sound of call lights going off and the printer whirring as the nurse prints forms for Major to sign bounce around in my head as I wonder what’s happening in the ICU with Samantha.

“Mommy’s so hurt, Mal. I’m scared,” Summer says to Malory.

“She’s going to be fine. It’s just her head, it will get better,” Davy says, trying to reassure himself just as much as the girls.

“That’s not what the doctor said, Davy,” Summer says.

“What did the doctor say, Summer?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer to my question.

“He said her brain is dead, you gotta have that to be alive, right, Violet?” she says with a quivering bottom lip.

Three sets of eyes are on me, waiting, anticipating my answer.

“Well yes, but sometimes a brain can get sick and then get better. It depends on how sick it is.” That’s all I’ve got. I can’t make it simpler than that. I need to talk to Major and find out what exactly the doctor said.

“Come on, we’re going back to Sam’s room,” he says, whizzing by and grabbing Davy’s hand.

I stand and follow as fast as I can holding a six-year-old, a small one, granted, but she’s got to weigh at least forty pounds.

“Major, wait, what’s going on? Is she okay?” I ask, taking three steps for every one of his.

“They’re talking about shutting off her ventilator. One says she’s brain dead. Another says she still has a chance. I’m not leaving her alone with those bozos so they can pull the plug while I’m gone.”

“They can’t do that, can they?” I gasp, out of breath from walking so fast.

“No, not legally, but I have a bad feeling about all this. I don’t trust them.”

Oh my God, she can’t be brain dead, this isn’t happening. Should the kids be here during all of this? Is it too traumatic for them to witness doctors arguing about turning their mother’s life support off?

Major is walking so fast I can hardly keep up, and he’s dragging poor Davy. Summer is falling behind too. I slow to her pace and take Davy’s hand from Major. I’ll let him go ahead. I know where the ICU is if we get separated.

“Why is Uncle Sawyer so mad?” Summer asks.

“Honey, he loves your mommy very much and he’s trying to make sure the doctors take really good care of her. He’s worried, that’s all.”

I pray that’s all. I could have just given a seven-year-old little girl a big helping of false hope.

“Mom’s gonna die, isn’t she?” Davy asks, and I stop in the middle of the hall and kneel down to eye level with him. I place my hands on his shoulders. “Davy, positive thinking is a very powerful thing, and so is negative thinking. Do you know what that means?”

He nods yes.

“We need to think positive thoughts to help your mommy get better. If you guys pray, now’s a good time to say a few prayers. Your mommy loves you a lot. Don’t give up on her, okay?”

Davy nods his head up and down, but I see tears forming in his eyes. I shift Malory to one hip and pull him close for a hug, and Summer wraps her arms around all of us for a group hug.

“I’m holding the elevator. Come on,” Major barks from inside the elevator a few feet up the hall. We rush to get in before it starts to alarm. He can see I’m struggling, so he takes Malory from me. I’m afraid to put her down with the sedative still in her system. She rests her head on his shoulder. She looks scared. They all look scared. I don’t know how to console traumatized kids. Please, God, don’t let their mother die. They still need her so much.

When we are close to her room, I can feel the tension vibrating through the air. Nurses who were smiling earlier have their mouths set in straight lines. Doctors are bustling around, consulting with one another on what to do next.

“How is she? Any change?”

An old doctor with a hunch in his back and grey hair looks up from examining Samantha.

“Still nothing, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you on her case anymore. Find the other doctor who was in here earlier. I want to talk to him.”

I’m standing behind Major with my jaw on the floor. I sympathize with new Marines in boot camp. If Major were my drill instructor, I’d be AWOL. He’s so intimidating.

The doctor exits the room without an argument, and I hear him speak to the nurse, asking her to call Dr. Kumar.

Oh my God, do I have to deal with this on top of everything else today? I haven’t returned his calls or texts for two weeks. They gradually stopped coming, and I felt bad for not telling him I wasn’t interested. I took the chicken’s way out, and now I’m going to pay. He knows about my pregnancy, and I’m sure he’s going to be making some assumptions, seeing me here with Major and the kids during a very private family matter.

Please, please, God, don’t let him mention that he took me out to lunch and sent me flowers, or worse yet, don’t let him congratulate us! If Major finds out like this, it’s going to be devastating. He might throw me out and think I’ve been trying to trap him. That’s what I would think if I were him. I should have told him right away. I should have told him in the hotel the other night when the moment was perfect. Now he might find out he’s going to be a father in the middle of a family crisis.