Page 96 of Truth or More Truth
“That’s what I want to get your thoughts on because I’m not sure. Kelli suggested I keep the guys who play in Chicago and let everyone else go. That way I only have one city I need to travel to on a consistent basis. I currently have four guys there, which is a manageable amount and the most I’ve ever had in one city. But what happens when one of them gets traded? Diego’s the only one with a no-trade clause, and he intends to play in Chicago until he retires.”
“Kelli’s been talking to you about this?”
I shrug. “It was her idea to begin with, back when you and I first got together. And Diego has mentioned the same thing, although he wants to be myonlyclient.”
Melissa chuckles. “Of course he does.”
“The problem with that is he has at most five or six years left in him. What would I do when he retires? I can’t do nothing. It’s not in my nature.”
“No, it’s not. I think it makes sense to keep the Chicago guys. And if any of them get traded or leave during free agency, you can cross that bridge when you come to it. It may be years before that happens, and by then, maybe you’ll be in a position where you can travel to wherever they end up. But I’d like to point out that if you keep all your Chicago guys, that includes Jimmie Zane. You’d be OK with keeping him?”
“That leads to the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” I tell her what Kelli said about Jimmie.
“Her hypothesis makes sense to me. Do you …” She hesitates before finishing her question.
“Do I want to tell you about my childhood and what Kelli meant when she said my parents were terrible to me? If that’s where you’re going, the answer is yes. I’d already planned on telling you about that tonight, and I wish I’d told you sooner, but I didn’t. I don’t like to talk about it. In fact, I haven’t ever talked about the details to anyone other than Nanette, Diego, and Kelli. I didn’t want to tell Kelli, but Nanette thought she deserved to know, so after she turned thirteen, I gave her a semi-sanitized version. I’ve told Ash and Randall a little bit, but they don’t know everything.”
“It’s OK, Bobby. You know I’m fine with you telling me things at your own pace.”
“I do. Thank you.” I take a deep breath. “My dad was a violent man. He didn’t often lay a hand on me or my older sister, but he hit my mom on the regular. One night when I was fourteen, it got so bad I called the police. I was afraid he would kill Mom if I didn’t do something, but I wasn’t big enough yet to try to stop him. Plus, I didn’t want to fight—I didn’t want to be like him.” I close my eyes as I remember that night.
“That was a brave choice for a teenage boy,” she says. “What happened when the police showed up?”
“They took one look at my mom’s bloody face and bruises and hauled my dad off to jail. Mom was so mad at me, but I didn’t regret it. The problem was, she wouldn’t press charges against him. And back then, a lot of people didn’t care if a man wasbeating his wife. They thought it was his right. So the police had no grounds to keep him, and he came home.”
Melissa sucks in a breath. “And then what?”
“I thought he’d beat me, but he didn’t. He simply pretended I didn’t exist. He didn’t look at me, didn’t speak to me, didn’t acknowledge my presence in any way. But he kept hitting Mom. My sister turned eighteen not too long after that and moved out to get away from our parents, so it was just me and them at home. And once again, one night it got so bad I thought he’d kill her, so I called the police again. I snuck out the back door so I wouldn’t be home when they arrived. When I went back later that night, Dad was gone, and Mom was irate with me again. She said it was my fault he hit her in the first place, because he was so mad about me calling the cops before.”
“Oh, Bobby,” Melissa whispers, and I can hear the tears in her voice. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”
I nod as I wait for the lump in my throat to subside. “I do now. Even back then I didn’t fully believe it was true, but I was just a kid. I didn’t know. But that’s not all. The police kept him overnight, and he had the bright idea to try to take a cop’s gun away. In the resulting chaos, he was shot and killed.”
Melissa audibly gasps. “Oh, no.”
“Yeah. And guess who Mom blamed for that, too? So thensherefused to acknowledge my existence. She didn’t cook for me, didn’t clean my room, do my laundry, anything. I finally summoned up the nerve to talk to my school counselor about it. He’s the one who helped me get emancipated and into college early. I’ve had no contact with my mom since. And I’ve not seen or heard from my sister since she moved out—not even when Dad died.”
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Melissa says through her sniffles. “I wish none of that had happened to you. But believe me when I say it’s nothing short of a miracle that you turned into such a stable, caring man after all that. I’m so proud of you for not letting that bring you down, for being strong and making something of your life, for being an amazing dad to Kelli and friend to Nanette and Diego and Ash and Randall, for going above and beyond foryour clients even when they do dumb things. You are an absolute wonder.”
By the time she’s done, tears are flowing freely down my face, which is not a common event for me. I wasn’t sure how Melissa was going to respond to my story, but that wasn’t it.
“I wish I was there to hug you,” she says.
“I wish you were here, too,” I choke out.
“I want you to have some support right now—someone who’s there with you. Would Nanette be mad if you woke her up?”
“No,” I shake my head, “but I doubt she’s asleep yet anyway. She’s a night owl.” I swivel my chair so I can see her house. “Her bedroom light is still on.”
“Then go over there. Please promise me you will.”
Who is this woman who cares enough about me and trusts me enough that she’d send me to my ex for comfort?
“Promise me, Bobby Joe.”
I smile as I wipe my face. “I promise. Melissa, I … thank you for listening, for understanding.” Can I tell her I love her, or is it too soon? “I … I care about you an awful lot.” Apparently I can’t tell her.
“I care about you an awful lot, too, Bobby,” she says softly. “I hope you’re able to get some rest tonight. Call me tomorrow.”
