Losing to Win (9 page)

 

 

“W
hat are you really asking me?” I responded to one of Meshach's questions with a question of my own as I finished my last round of reps on the butterfly press. Shifting to the Nautilus machine for leg curls, I adjusted the weight and slid onto the bench. Double-checking that my knee brace, which I needed less and less, was secure, I depressed the weight with both legs and then brought it back up slowly. After the third rep, I glanced up at him.

“I just want to make sure your head is on straight,” Meshach cautioned as he settled onto a bench across from me.

Raising a brow, I had to needle him a little. “Are you going to work out or just sit in your pretty blue suit and lecture me?”

Meshach had a thriving law practice based in New Orleans, at least a ninety-minute drive from here. Yet here he was at six in the morning dressed in his Armani suit, taking time out to talk to me. Shach wasn't the kind to talk just to hear himself talk. If he had something important enough to track me down to say, I was going to listen.

“I'm heading into New Orleans after I talk to you. No workout needed. In case you forgot, I'm the natural athlete in the family.”

“You're the natural bullshitter, that's for damn sure.” I exhaled after the tenth rep. Some people actually liked strength training. I wasn't one of those people. I did what I had to do and went on to the next thing.

“Mal...” he started tentatively. Meshach was rarely tentative.

“Shach, you know you don't have to sugarcoat shit with me. We've never been that way. Just say it.”

“Let's start with the career. Do you want back in the NFL just to prove you can do it or because it's what you really want?”

“You know it's what I've always wanted.”

“Yes, but let's be real. Football came easy. You never thought about doing anything else. You've invested here and there, you've got some lines on other fields. If football isn't your passion anymore, don't do it.”

I looked at him in confusion. “I still love it. I was miserable when I couldn't play. Even more because I had cut myself off from the sport.”

“You were miserable without football or without Carissa?”

“Football. I learned to live without Carissa.”

“Because football and Carissa are mutually exclusive.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Cuz it kinda seems like you want to get everything back jus' the way it was. You can't do that.”

“I know that, Shach,” I repeated. “Just make your point.”

He took a deep breath and unloaded. “I don't want you to get tangled up with Carissa again if you're going to leave her behind when you head back to the NFL.”

“Tangled up?” I was looking for clarification.

“You know what I'm saying here.”

“I don't know that I'm getting back to the NFL. No one knows that yet.”

“C'mon, now. You damn well do know and it's not like you to play coy.”

I tilted my head and acknowledged his statement before moving to the next machine.

He began again. “Listen, Mal, you weren't here when she came back. She was . . .”

I paused in the middle of a lift and met his gaze. “What? She was what?”

He clasped his hands together and looked down. “She was broken, Mal. Carissa had always been a live wire, full of energy and sass. All that fire, all that spark—gone. She was just a shadow of her former self for a while. And you know you had to be heavily responsible for that.”

I let go of the bar I was pulling on and exhaled. I'd forgotten that as much as Carissa had been a part of my life, she was a part of my family's life as well. When she hurt, they hurt. The fact that I was responsible for that weighed heavily on me. “You know, it really kills me to hear that. I never meant to do that to her.”

“I know you didn't. But it took her a long time to come back. To find herself again. I wouldn't want—”

I got up and moved to the free weights, interrupting him as I moved past. “I know. I do know. I may be a little slow, but I'm not an idiot. I admit I didn't realize what I was doing to her before. You know she always just... I don't know.”

“She always just did whatever you wanted. No questions asked,” Meshach explained.

“Well, yeah. It didn't occur to me that she didn't want exactly what I wanted.”

He huffed out a breath in frustration. “You're still not getting it, Mal!”

“What?” I was confused. What was I missing?

“She did want what you wanted for you, just not at the expense of what she wanted for the both of you and for her. She put you first. Every time. Your wants, your needs, your ambitions.”

Okay. I had to set down the weights on that. It was like a lightning bolt struck me. I had never thought about it like that. Not at all. I was so focused on what I was doing and how to take the next step. I had been thinking about our relationship from my point of view. And then I thought about it from her point of view. But not until this moment had I considered our point of view—together, as a unit. Maybe I'd been too young when we met and got used to things a certain way. Maybe it took me a while to mature. Maybe being apart and alone and hurt and disillusioned made me see now what I didn't then. It was now clear that my inability to move us forward as equal partners had been a major part of the problem all along.

I sat down next to Meshach and stared unseeingly at the ground. “I don't think I want to do without her. But I'm not sure how to get us there,” I admitted.

“When you figure it out for sure and you know how to make it work? That's when you make your move. Otherwise you're being the same self-obsessed asshole she ran away from.”

My head snapped up and I glared at my brother. “Whoa! What's with the name-calling, bro?”

“You earned it, bro.”

“When?

“Right around the time when you started believing your own press,” he said wryly.

“Jesus, was I that bad?”

He snorted. “Worse.”

“Why didn't someone say something?”

“Carissa did. For all of us. Many times. You quit listening to any damn body.”

I gave him a small shove. “You should have kicked my ass. Wouldn't be the first time.”

He leveled a solemn look at me. “Remember I tried?”

“Oh yeah.” Vaguely, I remembered Meshach, Burke, and Pierre coming to see me in Houston shortly after Carissa bolted, but before I injured my knee. I was in an asshole phase at that time, I could admit it in retrospect. Shach had tried to tell me about myself, but I wasn't hearing it. “I believe you referred to my attitude as ‘stank'?” I'd called him something worse in retaliation and he drew his arm back to throw a punch. Pierre stepped in between us and reminded Meshach that assault against a brother was still considered assault and did we really want to go there? I sighed as the scene came back to me. It wasn't pretty. “My bad?” I put my fist up.

Meshach bumped me and nodded. “Definitely your bad. That's why I'm sitting here like a bayou-assed Dr. Phil all up in your business. If your head isn't fully pulled out of your hind parts, if you are not ready to be all in? Please for the love of God, leave Carissa Wayne alone.”

“Duly noted,” I agreed.

“All right, then.” He looked around the gym I was using on Havenwood's campus. “What's with this candy-assed workout? When are you getting back on that field and testing that knee for real?”

“All in good time, Meshach. Everything will be as it should, all in good time.”

“Oh, okay, Oprah. Are we still talking about your knee or are you dropping knowledge on the state of the universe?”

“You got jokes. I'm just saying I'm hearing everything you said this morning. I'm going to put everything back to rights if I can.” Of course, I had no idea how to do that or if my idea of back to rights aligned with everyone else's.

Meshach called my bluff. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?”

I shrugged and replied honestly. “Hell no.”

“Well, all right, then. Good luck.”

“I sure need every bit of it.”

“Later, bro.”

“Shach?” I called out before he crossed the threshold.

He spun back to look at me. “Yep?”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for actually listening.”

“Don't wrinkle your suit driving to work.”

“Don't let your head get too big to fit in the helmet.” He slammed the door behind him.

 

 

“I
'm sorry.” I squinted in the direction of Darcy and the other trainers. “You want us to do what now?”

Jim tried to look sympathetic but didn't really pull it off. “Form new teams for this event. We're shaking things up today. We're going to do girls versus guys. So you, Niecy, and Suzette will compete against Mal, Jordy, and XJ.”

“Why?” Niecy was even less pleased than I was.

“We thought it would be fun,” Jim answered.

“What exactly are we doing?” Malachi asked with enough impatience that I knew he was close to the end of his rope.

These were long hot days of physical torture and sensual deprivation. We were tart, testy, and tired. And we hadn't hit the halfway point of this competition yet.

“It's kind of like a treasure hunt!” Jim announced with way more enthusiasm than any of us felt.

“For real, though?” XJ asked with a scowl.

“I'm afraid so. Are we ready to get started?”

Niecy waved a hand in a “bring it on” motion. “Let's do it and be done already.”

“Ladies, if you could line up to my left and fellas to my right.”

I resisted the epic eye roll and stepped into place. Instead of standing on the other side of me where there was plenty of space, Suzette jammed in between me and Jim. I sighed and slid over a step. Jim handed Suzette the first envelope. She opened it, read it, and started walking away. Jim called her back.

“Suzette, this is a team event. Your score will depend on your entire team finishing ahead of the men's team. In addition, there will be a bonus or penalty for teamwork, leadership, skill, and speed.”

“What he's saying is,” I snapped, “do you mind scooting back over here and sharing with the rest of us?”

She looked not the slightest bit chagrined as she handed over the note card.

Niecy read, “Head to the center of town, find the historical landmark commemorating the town's founding father. Somewhere nearby is your next clue.”

I frowned. “There are three landmarks with Josiah Somers.”

Malachi groaned. “Why do you know that?”

“Some of us paid attention on the field trips?” I teased.

“Do the guys have the same clue and we're wasting time listening to Mal and Carissa flirt?” Jordan asked.

“If you think that's flirting, you're a little rusty,” Mal zinged.

Jim put his hands up. “Contestants, please. The clues are the same. You have to solve them perfectly and get through them quickly to maximize your point totals.”

“Any other rules?”

“We've taken all your keys so you can't drive from one place to the next. Oh, and the losing team is on kitchen cleanup for the rest of the week. Is everyone clear?”

“Clear,” we all intoned.

“Ready, set . . . go!”

I would like to say that we took off running, but really... we girls did not. We'd been biking all day. Which gave me an idea. As the guys headed down the road on foot at a fast pace, I stepped over toward the gym and motioned for the girls to follow me.

“Carissa, what are you doing?!” Suzette shrieked. “The guys are getting ahead of us! I am not scrubbing dishes for a week because you always play by your own rules.”

“Just this one time, Suzette; can you just trust me?” I reached into the equipment shed and started pulling out the bicycles.

“Ah yeah.” Niecy grinned and hopped on.

I held a bike out to Suzette. “Unless you'd rather walk it?”

“Okay, this wasn't a bad idea,” Suzette conceded grudgingly.

Quickly, we caught up to the guys. “See you in town, fellas.” I grinned and pedaled faster, ignoring the screaming in my thigh muscles.

“Hey!” Jordy called out as we whizzed by. “Is that against the rules?”

“He said we couldn't drive our cars.” Niecy waved and followed behind me. Suzette was behind us and managed a giggle or two. A camera crew pulled alongside us and started filming.

Once we were on the main street back into town, I started complaining. “My thighs hate me.”

“You? Girl, everything from the neck down is in rebellion.”

“God, you two like to hear yourselves talk,” Suzette complained.

I exchanged a glance with Niecy and held onto my thoughts about kettles and pots. We rode the rest of the distance in silence. When we pulled up to the main square, I said, “Niecy, you take the one on the left, Suzette the middle, and I'll take the right.”

“Why can't you take the one in the middle? It's bigger and in the middle of some bushes,” Suzette argued.

“Mary, Margaret, and Joseph. Fine! I'll take the middle statue.” I swear to God if I'd said the sky was blue, she would say it was pink just because. We rested the bikes against a bench and started scouring the statues for clues. Five minutes in and I still hadn't found anything. With a sigh, I pushed between the scratchy bushes and started searching the hind parts of the horse Josiah Somers was seated on.

“Doesn't it just figure that you would be staring at a horse's ass?” Suzette cackled.

“I find I spend a lot of time around horses' asses these days,” I shot back before turning my attention back to the statue. Was that? Yes! There under the back hoof was a long thin envelope. I pulled it out and waved it. “Got it!”

We met back by the benches and opened the envelope. Puzzle pieces fell out. “They are killing me,” Niecy said as we settled down on the sidewalk to put it together. Every time I set a piece down, Suzette picked it up and moved it.

“This right here is going to lose us teamwork points. Let's do the outside first and work our way in, okay?”

“Why do we have to do it your way?”

“Do you want to clean up after XJ for the next seven days?”

She subsided and slid the right corner piece into place. A few minutes later we stared in confusion at the picture we'd put together.

“It's a picture of a box sitting on top of something?” Niecy wondered.

“It's a boat deck.” I tilted my head.

“Yeah, but which one?” Suzette lamented. “This is the kind of town where every other body has a pirogue or shrimping boat tied up out back.”

“But this is a nice deck, and here in the reflection, what is that?” I looked closer and made out the letters R-H-O. “I know where this is.” I saw the guys straggling toward us and lowered my voice. “I'll tell you on the way there.” We quickly took apart the puzzle, slid the pieces back in the envelope, returned it to its hiding place, and hopped on the bikes.

“Where ya'll headed?” Mal called out.

I rolled my eyes. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“I surely would.”

“Figure it out.” When we'd peddled out of earshot, I announced, “It's the Bissets' boat by the marina.”

Niecy shook her head. “How did you figure it out?”

“The lettering on the reflection is the beginning of Taylor's shop. Rhone's Fine Arts, Gifts, and Framing.” Though I was hot and cranky, I was glad Taylor's store would get some exposure.

When we peddled up to the marina, one of the crew was kind enough to hand us some bottled water. I was tempted to dump it over my head but knew from past experience that this tank top and capri pant combo stuck to you like glue when wet. I settled for drinking almost half of the bottle as I retrieved the box from the deck of the boat. I handed it to Suzette and she opened it.

“Go fly a kite.”

“Beg pardon?” I asked, frowning at her.

“That's what it says.” She showed us the writing on the unfolded box.

Niecy closed her eyes. “Please tell me that Taylor sells kites.”

“She does sell hand-painted kites.” We turned toward the store next to the marina when a huge pickup truck pulled up beside us. Mal, XJ, and Jordy climbed out of the back. My eyes narrowed as the windows rolled town and two young women peeked out.

Mal smiled at them. “Thanks, ladies. I appreciate your kindness on a hot summer afternoon.”

I rolled my eyes as they giggled. “Anything for you, Blue Streak. We just love you. Good luck with the competition! Call us when you have a night off or something.” The more forward of the two handed him a business card out the window. He accepted it with another smile.

“Again, much obliged, ladies. Have fun in New Orleans.”

They spun off and all eyes turned to Mal. He shrugged. Then, making sure I noticed, he ripped up the business card and discarded it in the trash can. “They were headed through town and were kind enough to offer a ride.”

“Um-hmm.” Of course they did. That was the kind of stuff that happened to Malachi all the damn time. I wasn't sure why it still irritated me so. I had no claim on him and no say-so about whom he decided to spend time with.

XJ laughed. “That kind of thing never happens to me.” He looked over Suzette's shoulder. “So kites, huh?”

Niecy and I gave Suzette a look. After all her bitching, she couldn't even hide the clue? Without a word, I walked into Taylor's store and pushed the door open. “Hey, Tay. We're here for the kites.”

Taylor stepped out from behind the counter dressed in her nicer jeans and a funky tunic top. “I've got them right here for you.” Strategically, she had our kites at the back of the store so that the cameras followed us past all of her merchandise on the way there. Along the back wall, she had a variety of kites hanging—some with scenes of the Louisiana countryside, others with inspirational messages, and a few with abstract designs. There were box kites and traditional diamond shapes, along with complicated swirls and others.

“Which one is ours?” I asked.

She smiled slowly. “Well, here's the tricky part. You have a choice of three designs to choose from, and you have to put it together. Take it to Belieux Fairgrounds and fly it for five minutes without crashing. And you do have to walk or run to the park from here. No riding of any kind.” She pointed to a table with six kite-assembly kits stacked. “Choose wisely.”

“I think we should get the box kite with the picture,” Suzette announced.

I bit my tongue. The old-school diamond with lettering looked like it would be easier overall, but I didn't want to get into it.

“I vote diamond with Belle Haven written across it,” Niecy said.

“No,” Suzette said. “I have kids, I know kites, and we're doing this one.”

I reached out, grabbed the one she wanted, and turned for the door. “Fine. Later, Tay.” Stepping outside, I finished my water and started stretching. “The fairgrounds are two blocks over. Y'all ready to jog?”

Suzette opened her mouth to argue and Niecy cut her off. “Girlfriend, you got your way on the kite. Take the win and let's get through the rest of the day, shall we?”

To my surprise, Suzette backed down and took off at a slow trot. Thank God we didn't have far to go. As I suspected, Mal and the guys came out and quickly passed us by. I noticed Mal had the simple diamond kite box in his hand. Right then, I knew I would be spending the rest of the week wiping out the microwave in the common kitchen.

We got to the park, and though we wanted to collapse on the ground, we took out the kite pieces and the instructions and got started. Four long sticks, four short sticks, string, connectors, and the fabric. Suzette looked at the instructions, looked at the materials, and announced, “This isn't right.”

“Yes, it is, you're just doing it wrong.”

“I am not!”

“Let me see the instructions.”

At this point, I was so weary and frustrated that I wanted to lie down on the grass and weep like a child. I was PMSing, I wanted chocolate, and I wanted a bubble bath. Instead, I was handed some Powerade, a protein bar, and a cool cloth to mop my brow. I sat cross-legged and watched Niecy and Suzette battle. This was the challenge from hell.

Niecy snatched the instructions out of Suzette's hands. “These four make the box. We cross the small ones at the top and the bottom for support, wrap the fabric, and we're done.”

“I don't agree,” Suzette said. “I think you wrap the fabric around the short and use the long to extend the kite.”

Niecy almost snarled. “How does that make a box, Suzette? What laws of geometry make that work? Please share.” She looked at me. “Cari, I know you're trying to play nice with Princess today, but ain't nobody got time for that. I need you to get on board and kick this kite's ass. C'mon, now.”

With a sigh, I sat up. “Niecy's right, you're wrong. Connect the support sticks so we can attach the others.” Suzette didn't move. “Please?”

Giving a dramatic huff, she started snapping the pieces together. We hadn't even built the frame when the guys shouted. “We're done!” Sure enough, we looked up to see Mal running up and down the field with the blue and green Belle Haven kite high in the sky.

Suzette snapped two of the sticks in half and threw them. “Dammit! If you had let me do it my way, we'd be done by now.”

“If you'd picked the kite Carissa wanted, we'd be done by now,” Niecy hissed.

Ren came over to us. “If you can't finish, it's a forfeit.”

I walked over to the remains of the poor defenseless kite sticks and picked them up. “Maybe we can tie some string around them and bind them back together, just enough to get it up in the sky?”

Mal came over and looked. “Maybe, but then you need to use less fabric so the kite won't be too heavy.”