A Love So Deep (36 page)

William smiled, then looked away. It occurred to him that Rita had suffered enough. She deserved some happiness in her life. Who was he to disrupt what she so truly deserved? When he had the chance, he failed her. And now he wanted back in her life only to use her.

Just like that, he finally saw her for what she really was…a priceless gem. She was more precious than rubies and diamonds, silver and gold. Rita was a portrait of a virtuous woman—a woman made to love and be loved. And yes, William still loved her. He pushed the three numbers on the keypad.

“Nine-one-one, may I help you?”

T
he
ambulance arrived waking everyone within a four-mile radius. The paramedics appeared sleepy and lethargic. Two heavy-set white males, one tall and one short, and a tall, red-haired lanky woman with a gurney rushed past William into the interior of the apartment. Rita was guarding the doorway to the bedroom and the paramedics looked from one to the other in a confused state. It was easy to see that Rita was a victim of some type of domestic dispute—her hair matted, dress wrinkled and tossed, and dry blood caked over her eye, but she didn’t seem to be the victim that required their immediate services.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” the tall woman asked.

“Yes, I’ll be okay. But…but…but him…”

Rita raised an arm and pointed in slow motion to a corner of the room. The trio followed the direction of Rita’s pointed finger and spotted a large body lying on the floor. They raced to the corner and the taller of the two males dropped to the floor to check Charlie’s vitals.

“He’s breathing,” the tall paramedic said. “Sammy, take his vitals.”

The tall, lanky woman turned to Rita once more—her red hair swinging with her movement. “I need some information. Can you tell me what happened here?”

Rita rocked back and forth where she stood. She turned her head in William’s direction, the tall lady following her gaze, and slowly brought it back to meet the woman’s eyes.

“He…he was stalking me, and he came out of nowhere when I tried to open my door. He pushed me in the room and…” Rita began to sob. At first, they were soft sobs, but her body shook as the full magnitude of what had transpired became real. William came and stood by Rita’s side and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Were you here, sir, did you see what happened?” the tall lady asked, turning her attention to William.

“I came to see Rita…Ms. Long, about fifteen minutes ago. I kept knocking on the door, but no one answered. I could hear noises…loud talking. The tone of the man seemed hostile.” William became animated, his dreads crawling about his face with his movement. “The door was slightly opened, and I pushed and came on in. The voices were louder, and from what the man was saying, I knew Rita was in trouble. I rushed to where I heard the voices…”

“In the bedroom?” the lady asked.

“Yes, the bedroom. He…”

“By ‘he’ you mean the victim lying on the floor,” the lady interrupted once more.

“Yes, that he,” William said sarcastically. “He was trying to thrust himself on Rita, and…and I picked up a vase and hit him on the head from behind. I only wanted to get him away from Rita.”

“And how are you related to Rita…Ms. Long?”

“I’m her ex-husband.”

“Thank you, Mr. Long?”

“Yes, I’m Mr. Long.”

“Thank you. The police should be here any second.”

William nodded.

“Ms. Long, it might be a good idea if you go to the hospital and let them check you out.”

“He threw me into the wall, and my back aches.”

“Like I said, you need to get that checked out.”

The red-haired woman looked around the room with a puzzled look on her face. “Ms. Long, are you acquainted with the intruder? Why would he be stalking you?”

Rita frowned. “If I knew he was stalking me, don’t you think I would have called the police? And why are you asking all these questions? You’re just a paramedic. So do your job.”

“It’s all right, Rita,” William cut in, frustration in his voice. “Lady, my ex-wife has been through an ordeal.” Rita looked quickly at William with a scowl on her face and turned her head quickly away. Ignoring Rita, William continued. “The man’s name is Charlie Ford.”

“How do you know Charlie?” Rita stammered, her eyebrows bunched in little clouds.

“Does he have next-of-kin?” the redhead asked.

“We’ll wait for the police,” Rita declared.

“Rita!” William sighed.

“I’m not sure, but he has a best friend who I’m sure would know.” Rita dropped her head, then raised it, looking from William to the paramedic. “His name is Graham Peters. I’ll call him from the hospital.”

“Thanks, Ma’am.”

Knock, knock, knock
.

“It must be the police,” Rita said.

She walked the two paces to the front door and opened it. Two black policemen stood at the door.

“Hey, Gladys. What we got here?” one of the policemen asked.

The redheaded lady gave him her account.

“Okay, Gladys,” yelled the tall, heavy-set paramedic. “We’re ready to roll. Sammy, you take the lead. Folks, we’re taking this fellow to Kaiser.”

Rita and William watched as the paramedics rolled Charlie from the apartment.

“Got to be more careful, Ms. Long. Just spoke to the paramedics, but I need to get both of your stories.”

“What’s up with that lady paramedic?” William asked. “She acted as if she was the police.”

“She’s trying to get into the Academy. Wants to right the world. I’m Detective Bell and over there is Sgt. Lenny Smith or Smitty. Let me get your account of the story.”

William and Rita repeated their stories for the policeman who made notes, took measurements in the bedroom, and took pieces of the broken lamp. They dusted for fingerprints and took several photographs.

“Please fill these forms out. And by the way, Ms. Long, here’s an extra blank report form. Would you autograph it for me?”

“I’d be honored.”

“Mr. Long, I’ll ask that you not leave the city. The victim may press charges against you. Also, the police may need you for further questioning.”

“All right.”

The policeman looked at his notes and back up at William. “You’re not William Long who used to play for the Lakers back in the day?”

William chuckled. There was a time when he couldn’t produce a chuckle about his short stint in the NBA and why he was not sitting in the Hall of Fame. But he smiled, and said, “Yes, old, washed-up William Long.”

“Man, you were bad. If you hadn’t had the leg injury, you would have had a record that Magic or Michael Jordan couldn’t touch. Give me five. And while you’re at it, would you give me an autograph? I have another blank report form in my car. Smitty, go and get it for me.”

“I’m going to get one for me, too,” Smitty said.

The officer and the former NBA star slapped five while Rita stood off in a corner and contemplated what she would tell Graham. It was do or die because everything was getting ready to come out in the wash.

“Some night,” William said, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah. Who would have thought it would turn out like this?”

“Maybe…maybe if I had come just a few minutes earlier.”

“Then what? It would have been you instead of Charlie except Charlie was drunk and not in his right senses.”

“What are trying to say, Rita?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate you being here at that moment, God knows I’m thankful, but why were you here, William? I thought I made myself perfectly clear that you were no longer a part of my life. And that stunt you pulled tonight at the Hole.”

“Seems you were the one that made an ass of yourself.”

“Hold it. Don’t you even…”

“Not now, Rita. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

R
ita
checked on Charlie. He was still in emergency waiting to be wheeled to a room. The doctors had to sew twenty stitches in the back of his head. Between the pain and the withdrawal from his bottle guzzling high, Charlie would thank the Lord that Kaiser Permanente Hospital was his home for the next couple of days. If he had to depend on anyone else, he would probably be out of luck.

William stayed at Rita’s side during her check-up. The doctor examined her bruises and cuts and determined that a little bedrest and a cold compress should be her friend for the next day or so. Rita’s body ached from her tussle with Charlie, and she trembled slightly from nerves.

She had to call Graham, and she had to muster all the courage inside of her to do it. Sunrise was only a short hour away, and before long he would be heading this way to see Martha.

“I think you better go, William. I’ll talk with you later. I really need to talk with Graham alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rita. You don’t need to be by yourself.”

“I think it will be better this way.”

“What are you going to say when he asks you where I am? You’re going to have to tell him what happened. I know if it were me, I would be mad as hell. I’d think you had something to hide, and I don’t think I’d be able to trust you.”

“You are a work of art, William. You kicked me to the curb when I needed you most, and now that my heart has healed, you have the audacity to show up twenty years later with some fly-by-night, gonna-make-me-a-star scheme to benefit your sorry-ass pockets, pretending that you love me when you don’t know the first thing about love.”

“But I do love you, Rita.”

Rita pushed William lightly on the chest. “Don’t do this, William. I love Graham. I’d marry him if he asked.”

William turned his head and stared off in another direction. He couldn’t look at Rita, because he hurt like she must have hurt when he rejected her love. “I’m going to wait, if you don’t mind. It will be for the best.”

Rita was quiet. She couldn’t make William leave, and he was probably right. But she knew that Graham would not appreciate what she would tell him despite her love for him.

Nothing like a good night’s sleep
, Graham thought, as he yawned and stretched his arms high above his head. The bed felt so comfortable that he hit the snooze button one more time.

Rita had consumed his dreams, and he couldn’t wait to see her. He had not seen her since Thanksgiving Day and that was a blur. Passionate kisses covered his queen in his dreams—so real that he could almost taste her cologne on his tongue. Rita embodied everything he liked in a woman, and though she and Amanda were two different people, there were many similar qualities that endeared Graham to them both.

Graham didn’t wait for the next wake-up call. He sprang from the bed as if it was on fire—flames licking at his heels and hurried to the bathroom. His reflection nodded back at him while his toothbrush moved east and west across his teeth in a cloud of toothpaste. Next he turned on the water to take a shower, quickly drawing his hand back after touching the very hot water. He adjusted the water and began to take his shower, whistling as the water cascaded over his body blazing trails through the thick ashen forest that covered his chest. Graham flexed his muscles, grinning with thoughts of what he was going to do to Rita.

He felt refreshed and in a good mood. After a short visit with Martha today, he was going to take his baby out to lunch, love her up, take her out to dinner, love her up some more, and enjoy whatever else the evening held in store for them. He scrubbed, whistled, and smiled at what his day was about to bring.

Graham opened the door to the bathroom and a large vapor of steam escaped. He hurried to his bedroom and rummaged around in his chest of drawers for underwear. He pulled out a pair of boxer shorts and a thin, scoop-neck T-shirt.

There was a slight chill in the room, and Graham shook his body to chase the cold away. He found the remote and turned the television on. Oddly enough, a commercial was on advertising boxer shorts, and a crazy guy was dancing in his shorts, telling the world how free he felt in them.

This tickled Graham. He laughed aloud and mimicked the guy on the television screen and began to writhe around the room as if he were in pain. He hopped on one foot and then the other, raising his hands in the air like he was climbing a ladder. He looked much like the dancing baby that flooded computer screens when graphics first emerged as small video clips.

Lost in his crazy antics, Graham suddenly jerked his head to the right when the phone rang, bringing him out of his reverie. He rushed to the phone, almost tripping over his shorts that he had dropped on the floor. Trying to take control of his breathing, he took a deep breath and answered the phone.

“Hello,” Graham said, out of breath but in a rather sexy voice.

“Graham, is that you?”

“Well, what other man would be answering my phone like that?”

“I…I…you didn’t sound like yourself.”

“Well, I rushed to the phone hoping it was you. I’ve been having nothing but sweet dreams about you, baby.”

“That’s wonderful, baby,” Rita said in a non-committal voice.

“What’s up, where are you? Are you all right? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’m okay. I’m at Kaiser Hospital.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Martha? Please, God, don’t tell me something has happened to Martha.”

“Calm down, Graham. Martha is resting fine. I checked on her a few minutes ago.”

“Well, what are you doing at the hospital?”

“It’s…it’s Charlie.”

“Charlie? What about Charlie?”

“He’s in the hospital. He had an accident. You better get down here as soon as you can.”

Graham was silent. He had heard Rita correctly. Charlie was in the hospital, and it might be his fault. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to Charlie, no matter how angry he was with him.

“I’m putting my clothes on now. I’ll be right there. How is he?”

“He’s going to live.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Hurry.” And the line was dead.