A Life Worth Fighting (19 page)

“Yes, very well,” I agree.  

We talk a few minutes in the Ladies room before heading back. When we turn the corner, we see Kennedy walking down the hall.
It must already be over.
I watch as he gets further away from me before I notice his limp. Mom starts to say something before I hush her. I turn on the camera on my phone to video and start recording him.
I didn’t notice the limp when he walked into the room.
 

“What are you doing?” 

When Kennedy is out of sight, I turn off my recorder and smile. “Nothing. I just think he’s extremely good looking,” I lie, again. 

Robert

During the next two days, Leah tries to put on a happy face. No one speaks about the fight and we focus only on the itinerary the girls made up. We visit Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon.
The Grand Canyon is over a four-hour drive, but we may get only one chance to see it. The next day we gamble and when Leah wins, she’s done playing. The girls want to see
the musical
Annie
, so we do. Leah loved that show as a child, and she loves it as an adult.  

When we get back to the room, Leah shows me the video she took of Kennedy. She points out his limp and I play it and replay it. “I didn’t notice him limping during the press conference,” I say.  

“I didn’t either. He didn’t know we were behind him when he left. I think he hides it from people.” 

“Good job, Leah. Thank you.” 

“Anytime, Ace.” 

Leah sleeps most of the flight home and everyone else is quiet. I know what the guys are thinking. This year will go by quickly and tomorrow it’s time to hustle. Gus is writing in his notebook and I’m sure it’s menu changes and different forms of exercise. He’s planning on riding me hard, but I have news for him: he won’t need to. I know what needs to be done and I’ll do it. We’ll need more ring time at Upper Cut and someone different to fight with each day. To fight the same person over is repetitive and a sure way to guarantee a loss. You soon learn that person’s moves and tactics. Everyone fights differently, so it’s best to fight different people. It keeps you more alert and ready.  

Leah soaks in a hot bubble bath, and I shower in the separate shower in the master bath. Thank God for the endless hot water tank. It’s the best thing I ever bought. Leah and I go to bed and we read from Jamie’s bedtime story book. When Leah is still awake at the end of the story, I know something is on her mind.  

“What are you thinking about?” 

“Lots of things,” she says, cuddled into me. 

“May I ask like what?” 

“Like the fight, our baby, and Jamie.” 

“That’s a lot of things. Is there anything I can do to ease your thoughts?” 

“No, I’ll be fine. Some things I have to work out on my own.”  

“I can appreciate that. Have you decided if you want to know the baby’s gender this week?” 

Leah lightly rubs her belly and smiles. “I think you’re right about us not knowing. The gender isn’t important, as long as our baby is healthy.” 

“So we’ll be surprised then?” I ask hopefully. 

“Yes, Robert, I think a surprise will be nice.” 

The next morning I’m awake before Leah; actually, I’m always awake before Leah. I decide to have a cup of caffeinated coffee and read the morning paper before doing anything this morning. I bypass the front page and go straight to the sports section.
I read an article about the fight with Kennedy where Greene lost his life. An anonymous person set up an account on Go Fund Me in Greene’s name to help with medical expenses for his severely handicapped son. I fold the paper, set it aside, and finish my coffee. When my coffee’s gone and I have had time to think, I open up my laptop, go to the website, and make a monetary contribution to the cause. I don’t use my name; instead, I write, “In loving memory of my beloved, Jamie.” 

Leah

This week Robert and I went to my doctor’s appointment. Things are going as they should and my belly measures at 29 weeks.
I am over the halfway mark. They told us they know the gender of the baby, but Robert and I decided we didn’t need to know, although I was having second thoughts at the last minute. Robert is right: As long as he or she is healthy, that’s all that matters. We’ll just buy yellow and green sleepers and receiving blankets until I deliver.  

It’s Sunday and Robert is with the guys golfing. My mom, Margie, and I are cleaning Jamie’s room. I have neglected it long enough. We go through her dresser drawers and look at her clothes before I refold them and put them back. I should pack them away, but I don’t have the heart to. We dust, sweep, clean the carpets, and wash the walls, windows, and her bedding. I also toss her stuffed animal collection into the dryer. It’ll help reduce the dust from them. I don’t say it, but I wonder if I’ll ever get to the point where I can pack away Jamie’s things. After a few hours and when her room is finally clean, we go through Jamie’s baby pictures and mementos.  

“This was her first Easter dress,” my mom says as she holds the small purple dress. 

“She was just a baby then,” I say sadly.  

Margie picks ups another dress and touches it softly. “We bought this one for her birthday.” 

I don’t say anything. I just nod. When I remove everything from under Jamie’s bed, I see a drawing she made for Robert. It says, “Daddy, I love you.” I set it on the bed to give to Robert when he gets home. I remember the day Jamie made this. It was the day of the accident. I wrote the words and Jamie traced them with her crayon. She was so excited.  

We look at her hospital records of her birth, her newborn baby photos, and other photo albums from the three short years she was with us.  

Mom and Margie stay until Robert comes home. They don’t say it, but I know they worry that I’ll sink into my black hole called depression.  

Robert comes home and showers while I finish dinner. We have dinner and eat outside on the deck that overlooks the pool. The sun is setting on a warm summer evening.  

“While golfing today I saw the doctors: Alec and Mason,” he says. 

“Did you get a chance to talk to them?” 

“Just briefly. They were leaving when we got there.” 

I look over at Robert and say, “I should call Emma. I haven’t spoken to her since the book signing.” 

“She would like that. Alec said she isn’t working outside the house anymore. I’m sure she could use some adult conversation.” He drinks the rest of his water and add, “She’s a full-time mother of three; I’m sure she has her hands full.” 

“I’m sure she does. I should invite her to bring the kids to story time at the bookstore this week.”  

“I think that’s a good idea.” 

Robert and I finish dinner and we both clean up together. I pick up the picture I found under Jamie’s bed.  

“While cleaning Jamie’s room today, I found this tucked under her bed.” 

He raises
his hands and takes it from me. He smiles, but it isn’t a happy smile that reaches his eyes. It’s a sad smile. He traces the words with his index finger and says, “God, I loved her with all of my heart.” 

My eyes get moist from tears and I will them away. “She loved you just as much.” 

“As much as it hurts to not have her, I am so grateful that we had her for the three years she was here.” 

“Me, too,” I admit. “Even if every day is a fight to get through without her.” 

“It’s a life worth fighting, just to have had her for a short time.”  

I watch as Robert uses a refrigerator magnet to display his newest artwork from Jamie. He’s right. It’s better to have had her for a short time than to never have had her at all. 

The next morning Robert takes me to work like he always does. Jo is filling the glass display case with her freshly baked pastries. Of course, Robert rushes over to her. I know he wants to help her.  

Bethany comes from the back room and I have to smile.  

“Good morning,” I say to her and to Jo. 

“Good morning,” they say in unison. 

“Am I late?” I joke, looking at Bethany.  

“No, I need to see Bobby before he leaves this morning. I didn’t want to take the chance of missing him.”  

“Is everything all right?” Robert asks.  

“Oh, no, everything’s fine. I think I have something that may be helpful to you.” 

I look to Robert and he looks at me. “Sounds important,” he says.  

“It may be, but it’s probably nothing. Do you have a minute?” Bethany asks.  

Robert looks at me and I nod in the direction of my office. He looks at Bethany and says, “Sure, let’s talk in private.”  

Jo and I finish putting out the cinnamon buns and pastries while Bethany and Robert talk. Jo usually leaves shortly after I get here in the morning, but today, she is hanging around and helping me. We get the coffee station set up and I run the sweeper throughout the shop while Jo fluffs the pillows on the overstuffed couches. I have to work around the bistro tables that are still inside.  

Bethany and Robert come out of the back office; Robert is on his cell phone walking behind Bethany. I can hear him say, “Gus, meet me at my house as soon as you can.” I look at Bethany and she looks at me and smiles.  

Robert says into his phone, “Good, I’ll be there in 20.” Then he disconnects his phone.  

“Is everything all right?” I ask concerned.  

Robert smiles, “It’s good, I have to meet Gus at the house. Bethany may have found out something about Kennedy that will be useful. Let me set up the tables on the sidewalk and I’ll talk to you about it tonight.” 

“All right, sounds good.”  

Robert finishes up, kisses me goodbye, thanks Bethany, and walks Jo out to her car before he drives off in my car. Usually, he drives me to work and then leaves on foot once the shop is ready to open. It’s odd watching him drive off in my car for a change. I’m anxious to talk to Bethany, but the shop stays consistently busy most of the day. In our down time, we clean and restock the coffee and pastries and clean up and straighten the seating area. A delivery of books and supplies comes in, but we leave that for later.  

Robert comes in and is in an excellent mood. Bethany and Robert put away the supplies while I do the books and get the deposit ready. When I get done, I find Robert and Bethany sitting on the couch. I walk over to them and sit down beside Robert.  

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

Bethany speaks up first and says, “When we were at the fight, I recorded part of it.” 

“Bethany, you do know that isn’t allowed?” I say. 

“I know, I know. I was so excited about being there and I knew I may never get another chance to see another fight.” 

I laugh and say, “Between you and Dove, I’m surprised we didn’t get thrown in jail.” 

“Me, too. Anyway, when I was watching the video I noticed something — well, I thought I saw something. I wasn’t sure, so this morning I let Bobby watch it and it turned out he hadn’t noticed it either.” 

Confused, I asked, “It? What are you talking about?” 

Robert says, “Gus and I have been watching the tapes that Dove recorded and we didn’t notice anything unusual. When Bethany and I spoke this morning, she pointed out to me that Kennedy has a slight limp to his left leg.” 

“Kennedy has an injured leg?” I ask.  

“Yes, he does. Gus and I watched the video for the largest part of the morning and he has something going on with it. I don’t know how we didn’t notice it ourselves.” 

“Is that why he hasn’t been fighting?” 

“It may be, I have no idea.” 

I look at Bethany, who is smiling and say, “Look at you with your private investigative skills.” 

She stands up and says laughing, “Who knew? I need to get home. Leah, I’ll see you tomorrow and Bobby, I’m glad it’s information you can use.” 

Robert and I both stand and Robert says, “We’ll walk out with you, and it is definitely some useful information.” 

Of course, I also recorded Kennedy’s limp, but this confirms that he has one.  

Robert

Leah and I drive home and we talk about Kennedy’s injury. I have no idea if it’s permanent or temporary. Anytime a fighter has a significant injury it’s a big deal. An opponent can use that to their advantage.  

“Did you get a workout in today?” Leah asks me.  

“A little. We spent the largest part of the morning studying the video Bethany recorded — and your video.” 

“Is there anything on the internet about how or when Kennedy got his injury?” 

“No, nothing. Gus is asking around to see if any of his connections know anything.” 

Leah and I go to the Fresh Market and order soup and sandwiches for dinner. Instead of taking it home to eat, we take it to the cemetery and visit with Jamie. We tell Jamie about the baby and about us not wanting to know the gender of the baby. The baby kicks, and I rest my hand on Leah’s belly and wait for him or her to kick again. Leah and I are both excited to feel the baby’s movement. We tell Jamie how much we love and miss her before going home.