“I have a driver in Alabama, or Mama can drive me.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me to come?” she teases, but I can smell the apprehension on her. The answer to her question is no. No, I don’t want her to come. No, I don’t want her there if this is a career ending injury. In fact, I changed the date of our trip to ensure she can’t come on such short notice. That means she had to cancel the dinner party her stepmother was planning for Mama.
The doctor said the dreaded word. Surgery. It’s only a possibility, but if it turns into reality, I don’t know how I’ll be able to handle it. Even if I heal and return, I might not be the same, and this might be the beginning of the end of my career, and I’m not ready for that. I don’t want her around me if I receive that news. The playful Colt she fell in love with might go away for a while. I’ll need some time to come to terms with my career ending before she can be around me again. I was hoping for at least five more years.
“I won’t be able to give you the time and attention you need while I deal with this.”
“I’m not a pet. I don’t need time and attention. I want to be there for you.”
“Even if I don’t need surgery, I’ll have PT and other treatments. And I still have to do that commercial.”
“I always knew about the commercial. I have my book to keep me busy, but you need me more right now.” She smiles, the first genuine smile since the doctor gave me the bad news.
“I’m not going to have you rewrite important things in your book to accommodate me.” I limp to her and grasp her hands. “I’m going to meet with my doctors—”
“And why are you going to doctors in Alabama when you can have a team here in New York?”
“Because I’m not from New York, I’m from Alabama. This isn’t the center of the universe, Victoria!” She stops, and I immediately regret my harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I already have specialists at UAB ready for me. I’ll feel more comfortable there.” I want to get away from New York and the disappointed fans.
“Of course, you’re right. It’s your treatment, you should get to have it anywhere you choose.”
The fact that she doesn’t argue with me or try to put me in my place for snapping at her makes me angrier than I was before. She’s handling me. She’s not being herself because she feels sorry for me. Whether it’s because we lost the game or because I’m hurt, I’m not sure, but neither one sits well with me.
“I’m going to go sit in the sauna,” I say, turning around before she can sense my shift of mood. I leave the room and walk down the hall to my home gym before she can say another word or offer to come with me. Just as I lift my shirt over my head, the door opens and Mama walks in. From the set of her chin and the tight pursing of her lips I can tell she’s not too happy with me.
“Colton.” She steps in and slams the door behind her. “I know it hasn’t been an easy thirty-six hours, but Son, you have to let that young woman in. Whether you want or need the help she’s offering you, take it. You put a smile on your face, say please and thank you, and let her be there for you.”
“Mama, enough.” I toss my shirt to a far corner and wait for her to leave so I can remove my shorts.
“She’s not the type of woman—”
“Mama, she’s my woman. I know what type she is and what type she ain’t!” I don’t remember the last time I raised my voice at my mother, but I need some time alone, and she’s not taking the hint.
“Boy, don’t you even think of gettin' loud with me.” She approaches and puts her finger in my face.
“I’m sorry for yellin’, but I need some freakin’ space,” I hiss. I turn, give her my back and walk to the sauna.
“Son, you lost a game. It was an important one, but you lost. It is what it is. You lose some, you win some, but you’re actin’ like a child and pushin’ everyone away.”
I freeze at her words and her tone. I count to ten, rub my face with my hands, and count to ten again before facing her.
“It hasn’t been two days yet. Am I not allowed to be disappointed? And what about my knee? At worst, this could end my career or be the beginning of the end. Am I allowed to be upset, or do I always have to put on a performance for everyone? Alabama’s golden boy. Manhattan’s star athlete. Mary Leigh’s perfect son, the one who isn’t a drunk. Evan’s only parent, who is both mama and daddy. Vickie’s perfect, southern gentleman? Can I be me for once? And the me right now is angry.” I open the sauna and slam the door behind me. I can imagine the look on her face, but I don’t want to see it.
THIRTY-NINE
“I don’t understand.”I put the phone on the bed so I can fold clothes into a suitcase. “I’m almost done packing.”
The phone goes quiet. I stuff three more shirts on top of the mountain of clothes I’ve already piled in and wonder how the hell I’m going to close this thing. I tamp down my alarm. This is Colt. This is the man who chased me and dragged me into a relationship kicking and screaming. He just suffered a major loss, and not only that, he’s also worried about his knee. The media has not been kind. We haven’t talked about it, but he’s being blamed for the loss since he missed the last shot. There’s also talk about trading him, which is just speculation. He just signed a new contract, and he hasn’t uttered a word to me about trade, but I wonder what would happen to us if he had to transfer to a team in the Midwest or west coast. I push those thoughts away. First things first. We deal with the knee, and hopefully, the sting of losing will ebb in time.
I pick up the phone and stare into his face. His hair is just a curly mess, and he needs a haircut. He hasn’t shaved in days and has the early beginnings of a beard. He looks a little gaunt, and his brown eyes have lost their shine, but he’s still handsome.
“I don’t love you,” I tell him, hoping to pull him out of the pit he’s in. He smiles, but his eyes don’t light up like I’m used to.
“Good, because I don’t love you either.”
“So, I’ll be ready by the time my driver comes back from eating lunch.” I put the phone back down and resume my packing.
“Queen Vee.” My hands freeze above the mountain of clothes on my bed. Whenever he calls me Queen Vee, there’s always a playful lilt to his voice, but that’s not there today. “You don’t need to rush to Alabama. Meet us there in a few days. I’ll have Kendall arrange a private plane for you. Give me some time to meet with the doctors and figure out what’s goin’ on. Please.”
