Nurse Shelby clears her throat. “I think he’s trying to say that the baby just needs a break. It has been an awful long day for her.”
Just like five years of pain materialized in Marcus’ voice, it manifests in my body while I try to remember Granny’s real name so Nurse Shelby can leave.
“Ineed a fucking break.” Marcus scoffs. “Y’all don’t care about how I’m feeling.”
My body is hot like Mama’s because even when she’s sleeping, we’re still conjoined twins. Little wet dots soak into the paper underneath the G that I didn’t remember writing.
Ace smacks his lips and I feel all my words getting ready to pour out of his mouth again. I see Nurse Shelby’s hand hovering over his forearm like she knew how to comfortmyman. I hear Angie asking me why I was still holding onto my thoughts like a little girl when she knew how loud I could get about her good girlfriend and her son.
“On me, you being a selfish ass motherfucka’—”
“That’s enough,” I garble out in a hoarse voice while scratching an R onto the paper.
I’m not as loud as Angie wants, but the sound of my voice shuts Ace up, and that’s what matters.
When I look up, he and Marcus are still battling with their eyes, but they aren’t stupid enough to keep going when I have Angie in my ear.
I turn to Nurse Shelby and her hovering hand. “My brother Marcus will stay here with her for the night. He can finish this.”
I tap the paper, sliding to the edge of Ace’s lap while narrowing my eyes at how close her fingertips are to his skin.
“You can callMr. Manif anything serious happens. We’ll be home all night.” I sniffle, swiping at my face and then scribbling my phone number on the top of the paper.
* * *
I never heardCoach Williams curse.
“What thefuckis going on?” he blares through the speakers of Ace’s truck while I stare at the lights bouncing off the high-rise. “You can’t just walk out before a game. Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
I never saw Ace hollow either.
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and stares up at the red light.
“You left. Sanchez didn’t even show up. I had to play Marquise. Bless his heart—that boy ain’t got nobody’s point guard IQ! Do you know how much pressure he was under to perform? This is the type of impulsive shit I’m talking about!”
When the light turns green, he slams his foot on the gas and I jerk forward, running into his hard arm he throws out in front of me.
I never realized hospitals put people under spells until mine lifted as soon as I walked out into the parking lot and inhaled the brisk night air. I stood next to the truck and watched Ace yank his t-shirt over his head like all the sickness from inside had crawled into its threads. His Superman facade dimmed as soon as we closed ourselves inside the truck and I got a good look at him for the first time since I left him in that parking garage with glass at his feet. Pale caramel skin and red eyes.
Cree won’t stop beeping in while Coach Williams goes on about how bad Ace did his teammates, all because he missed one game against a team that wasn’t even in their conference. I wait for Ace to tell him that their one loss wasn’t for bullshit, but he’s staring at the closed gate at the parking garage’s entrance.
I yank open the middle console and rifle through papers until I pull a key fob out that looks like mine. Coach Williams eases into a panic about how the world will perceive another one of Ace’s mistakes.
“They ain’t gon' shut up about this shit tomorrow. Don’t think they don’t know something is up. They gon' speculate to hell,” he rambles. “You been putting up NBA numbers and now you’re suddenly missing.”
A little chuckle eases out while I press the button on the fob and let the garage up. I didn’t mean for it to come out, but after watching Mama taking those labored breaths on her bedroom floor while Shannon and Skip speculated to hell about Ace, Coach Williams’ worries were funny.
“This is like Cheyenne-gate all over again, but worse. Now they’re just picking at what’s left of you because you fucked up and brought these gossip happy reporters back into our lives. We ain’t gotta worry about her money-hungry family threatening to go to Gayle fucking King crying about what you did to her whilemywife is laid up at home dying this time! No, now it’s all about youagain. I listened to Marcus and brought you home because I knew you needed folks and then Blake promised me he could make this NBA shit happen, but no matter what I do, you just won’t be a man. You’re too busy parading around with Marshall’s babygirl when I promised him I’d keep her away from boys who would never mean well for her—especially one who can’t even remember what he’s done most days because he’s always got his head in a tequila bottle.”
We roll into a parking spot.
Coach Williams’ heavy breaths fill the car.
I can’t hear anymore, so I breathe out like Ace did next to Mama’s hospital bed in the emergency room. “Baby...”
He flings his head over to me and my limbs have that same feeling from when Nurse Shelby looked at him like he was it for her.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
