The Final Lesson Plan (29 page)

Marcus knocked harder, yelling from the other side of the door. "Janelle please, I just want to apologize. I'm sorry…for everything. I was wrong. Way wrong."

I stood on the other side of the door in utter disbelief, full out astonished. Marcus had never, I mean never, apologized to me for anything. Anything. I put my hand on the door handle, tempted to open it, to hear him out.

"Listen to me," he said, pounding on the door. "I fucked up. I really fucked up. Will you just talk to me? Please!"

Marcus Flowers was begging me, saying "please" even, to get me to talk to him. I certainly didn't get the mother-fucking memo that Hell had frozen over. I decided to text Char. I needed her input.

Holy shit. Did Hell freeze over? Marcus is on the porch begging to get inside. He's apologizing like it's his job. Advice please.

I hit send and waited. Meanwhile, he didn't let up. "Janelle honey, please, we've been together for so long. Don't we owe it to ourselves, to each other, to at least talk?"

Honey? Did he just call me "honey?" What the fuck was going on? Thankfully my phone dinged, alerting me to Char's response. I slid the bar over and read:

If you fucking open that door, the next time I see you, you'll be in a body bag. I swear to God Janelle, do not open that door!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"I signed the papers today, honey. You can have 50% of the sales on the house. Actually, you can have the house…all of it…if you want. I just want to talk to you," he said, his voice catching as he spoke. Holy shit. Was he crying? I'd never seen Marcus cry. I kind of wanted to see him cry. Horrible, I know, but true, so true. Seeing Marcus crying, hurt in agony would actually give me joy.

Unlocking the door, I said, "Alright Marcus, what could possibly be going on for you to act like this?" I asked, still blocking him from coming in.

"Can I come in?' he begged.

"No."

"Please Janelle," he asked again.

"No. You're not coming in here," I reconfirmed.

There was no way in the fucking world Marcus Flowers was coming into my house. I was actually surprised that I hadn't shot him in the face already. Granted, I didn't own a gun, but with as angry as I was at him, I probably could have conjured a manifestation of some gun to shoot his face or dick off right now.

"Okay, can you come out here, then?" he asked, reaching for my hand. I hit his hand away from me so hard that it banged against the doorframe with a loud whack. "Jesus. Fuck Janelle," he said shaking his hand out.

"Don't you dare touch me! Don't even think about touching me, Marcus," I threatened, pointing at him. "I'll come out, but I swear to God, if you as much as even brush against me accidentally I'll slap a restraining order on you so fast, you wouldn't even be able—"

"Okay. Okay. No touching. I promise," he said, raising his hands in defeat.

"Because your promises mean so much to me," I shot back at him snidely and sarcastically.

"Touché," he said, stepping aside, so I could walk past him. "Wanna go out back, by the pool?"

"No, too tempting to drown your ass," I said, sitting down on the porch stoop.

"Gotcha," he said, sitting down a little too close to me. I scooted about a foot away.

"What Marcus? What do you want? Why are you here?" I asked, cutting to the chase.

"To apologize," he admitted.

"For?" I asked, not knowing what apology he was offering up. God knows he owed me about a thousand.

"Lauren…Vince…your job…everything…Kayla. All of it. Janelle. I'm so so sorry," he said, reaching for my hand. Kayla? Who the fuck was Kayla? Jesus Christ, I fucking hated him. And Kayla. And Lauren.

"Don't touch me, Marcus. So help me—"

"I'm sorry. I forgot. Won't happen again," he said. "I should've been a better husband, a better man. You deserve so much more." I stared at him. I really had nothing to say to him. "Can you please forgive me?"

"No Marcus, I can't. I will never forgive you. The way you treated me, what you did to me, people shouldn't do that to their greatest enemy. You chose to do that to your wife…your wife, Marcus. I can't forgive that," I replied.

"Is there a way we can work through this, find a way to work it out?" he asked.

"I'm sorry…what?" Marcus Flowers had to be smoking crack. Was he seriously on my porch asking for a second chance?

"Us. Our marriage. Is there any way you'd ever—"

"Have you lost your fucking mind? Is this a joke? No Marcus. No. A hundred times over no." I said, staring at him in astonishment.

"Janelle, don't you want to get back what we had, what we worked so hard for?"

"Ummm…get back what we had? What we had was a fucked up marriage, a loveless marriage. What I had was a cheating bastard of a husband. So yeah, no thanks," I said, standing up. I started walking back into the house when I stopped abruptly. It had finally hit me, "Marcus, where's Lauren right now?"

"Fuck if I know. That tramp can go fuck herself," he said too quickly.

"What happened? Are you two not together anymore?" I asked. I'm sorry; I had to ask. I needed to know. This shit was too good. I needed to talk to Char about it all later. I needed every last detail.

"Fuck no!" he said.

"Why?" I asked, needing the dirt.

"I told her that I didn't want kids, told her that kids were a waste of time, money, and energy. Sucked the life right out ya—look at your sister and Rick. No thank you," he said. He stood up and started pacing. "I thought we were on the same page. Going places…together…ya know?"

Oh my God, Marcus was in pain, hurting because things went south with Lauren. He wasn't here to get me back, because he missed me. He didn't know how to function alone. Marcus was coming back to me, because Lauren didn't want him anymore. He put the "ewww" in douche.

"So, she got pissed, because she realized that she wanted kids and you couldn't give them to her," I said, understanding.

"No! That fucking cunt got pregnant," he screamed.

"Pregnant? But I thought you—"

"Vasectomy? I did. She's pregnant. It's not mine!" he clarified, shaking his head.

"Oh. My. God. That is...that is…the greatest fucking thing I've ever heard," I howled, laughing hysterically. This was too good to be true. Holy shit. Oh Karma, you sexy little thing; I owed you big time. "Goodbye Marcus," I said, going back into the house, leaving him sulking alone on my porch. And to think, I was in a funk. Best. Day. Ever.

My life was right on track, right where I needed it to be. I'd been holding out on Janelle, waiting to cross all the Ts and dot all the Is. But now, everything was in order, and I couldn't wait to share it all with her. I couldn't be happier. I never thought that I'd ever get my shit together, let alone, get it this much together. I called her earlier to tell her to meet me at our city's finest restaurant at 7:00 p.m. It was a night for steak and wine, perfect for a big steak and a couple bottles of wine.

When I walked into the restaurant, she was waiting for me in the foyer, looking through the menu. Every time I looked at her, she took my breath away. Janelle Garrity was my final wish—if I could just make this last one come true.

"Briggs!" she shrieked, running toward me. "I missed you. You look incredible." When I was in Connecticut, I got a few new designer suits. I actually splurged and bought a Gucci suit and a Kiton. I'd always thought that Giorgio Armani was the most upscale men's suit. I was wrong. What the fuck did I know?

"Holy shit Briggs. Is that a Gucci?" she asked, stroking the lapel of my jacket.

"Yep," I said, grinning with pride.

"So, do you think I'm a little cheaply dressed in my New York and Company sundress?" she asked, twirling around.

"I guess I'll just go slumming for the night," I teased.

"Oh good, because I've got some dirty dirty work for you this evening, sir," she said, winking at me before she followed the Maître d' to our table.

Once we'd ordered and gotten our wine, I said, "I have exciting news."

"You'd better, because I've certainly been waiting long enough to hear it," she said, leaning in closer to me.

"So, ESPN wants to start filming at the end of October. I didn't think I'd be able to start filming then, because I don't graduate until December," I explained, studying her face for reactions.

"Well that makes sense," she said.

"I went to Ohio State and met with the president of the university—"

"Gordon Gee," she added.

"Right. Gordon Gee. He signed off on letting me take my last 15 credits at the University of Hartford, but I still get to officially get my degree from Ohio State. That's what I wanted all along," I said, feeling my heart start to beat faster. I was so fucking excited. There was only one last piece to make this all fit together and work out how I wanted it to. "I met with Walter Harrison…the president from Hartford, and he was all for it."

"I'm sorry…huh?" she was staring at me as if I'd just told her that monkeys were flying out my ass.

"I get to take class at Hartford, but still get my degree from OSU. I start filming in October; the show'll probably go live next spring," I exclaimed excitedly.

"Ummm Briggs? Are you leaving too?" Janelle asked, with fear in her eyes.

"Yeah, Hartford. Next month. I bought a condo," I explained. "Oh yeah, Tate met with Urban Meyer…you know the coach at Ohio State…and now that's all Tate talks about. 'Coach Meyer said this. Coach Meyer said that.' This might just be just the thing the kid needs to stay on track. Then, when I said I needed to go to Connecticut, he just couldn't wait to go with me. Now, he's all about spending time with me, hanging out like we used to."

When I finally stopped talking and took a drink, Janelle was staring off somewhere, not at all engaged in our conversation. When I asked her about it, all she said was, "That's great, Briggs. I'm happy for you."

"Janelle, what is it? What's wrong?" I wondered. I hadn't foreseen this reaction at all.

"Nothing. I just guess…I didn't realize…I just didn't know that this whole time you were gallivanting around the country that you'd be leaving…leaving me next month," she said, looking away.

"But that's just it. I hired a realtor. I'd been taking pictures of your pool house and all that when you weren't around or were sleeping, because I wanted to show her what you liked, what your style was," I explained, getting nervous as fuck.

"I don't get it," she said, puzzled.

"I found a condo. For me. For us. Janelle, come with me. Move to Connecticut with me. You can get a teaching job there. Or not," I said. "You don't have to work if you don't want. You can just live with me. Be with me," I blurted. I'd planned to say so much more, but I was just too excited, too fucking nervous. "Say yes."

"Briggs, I—"

"No. No…'Briggs'…just say 'yes' right now," I pleaded.

"Hold on, that's…I mean…it's—"

"Perfect…it's perfect. Just say you will, Janelle," I said, taking her hand in mine. "Come with me."

"Hold on," she said. "It's a lot to think about. A big step. I have to think about my job, about my family, Char, Leo—"

"Ahhh…Leo…I thought he was gone, done, out of the picture?" I said too quickly, abruptly.

"Briggs, you know he is. But…but…I want to talk to him. Make sure he's okay…with Megan. It is his sister. Can you just give me a few days to let this sink in?" she said, stroking the back of my hand.

"Yeah, yes, of course. I'm sorry. It's all good. I did kinda just spring it on ya," I admitted.

"Thank you," she said, entwining her fingers in mine. "I'm so proud of you, Briggs, and so happy for you.