Homecourt Advantage (35 page)

“Like you did with Steve the other night? No way, Coach; that almost cost us the first game,” Brent said, shaking his head.

“I don’t have a choice,” Coach said.

“What do you mean you don’t have a choice? You’re the coach of this team. You play who you want to play,” Brent said.

“Not anymore. Not with everything that’s happened. At the moment, public opinion rules this team. Do you realize how many millions of people around the world watch the NBA finals? And do you know how bad it looks for the NBA’s image to have a woman beater—”

“Alleged woman beater,” Paul quickly corrected, interrupting Coach.

“Whatever,” Coach continued, “and a gay jock playing on a championship contending team. It sends the message to the world that the NBA condones this type of behavior in its boys. Commissioner McDeavitt won’t stand for it, believe me.”

“What are you saying? That Collin shouldn’t play because he’s gay? Hell, look at Dennis Rodman. He boasted in his book that he dated a transvestite, and that didn’t stop Phil Jackson from playing him in numerous championship games.” Brent was standing now.

“Rodman’s situation was different. No one took him seriously. He was just seen as an entertainer, with all his different hair colors and shenanigans. The guys in the main office brushed him off as a joke. Collin and Phil have been depicted as stars in some Hollywood love story. And if Collin is actually gay, that would be a threat to the whole status quo,” Coach said.

“Well, maybe it’s time that the ‘status quo’ is threatened,” Paul said, surprised at himself as he spoke the words.

“Paul, I don’t think you want to risk that right now.” Coach gave Paul a decidedly mean stare.

“Well, our chances of winning a championship are drastically reduced without Collin and Steve playing anyway,” Paul said, not believing that Coach was trying to bench two of their starters in the finals.

“The two of you obviously don’t understand. Let me put it like this: I’ve been all but ordered not to play them by the powers that be. I guarantee you both, the repercussions of me going against that could be more detrimental than if I let them play.”

“How?” Brent said, looking at Paul skeptically.

“Sponsors will pull their advertisements and … and you know just like I do that the referees have probably been pressured to not makeany calls in our favor … and the game would just be taken out of our hands,” Coach quickly finished.

“You know what it seems like to me, Coach?” Brent said as Coach opened the sauna-room door. “It seems to me that it’s already been taken out of our hands.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to say, fellas, that seems to be the case. See you at practice. Keep your heads up,” Coach said, sucking in his lips and walking past Paul.

Once they were alone, Paul said, “Brent?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Why do you think Coach fed us that crock?”

“I have no idea, but that had to be the most bullshit I’ve ever heard him shovel. Something strange is going on.”

Dawn sat on the living room sofa watching Michael
quietly as he dashed back and forth between the kitchen and the laundry room. He had placed a sausage muffin in the microwave and was trying to find a pair of matching sweat socks in the dryer at the same time.

She’d done a great deal of soul-searching during the last couple of weeks of silence between them. The decision she’d reached had not been easy, but it had been necessary just the same.

She had gathered some essential personal items and was ready to move into the medical-resident housing complex at Columbia University until she found an affordable apartment in the city. She had exhausted all of her emotional energy dealing with Michael. First, he’d begged, whined, and cajoled, trying to convince her that nothing had been going on between him and that model even though she’d flat out busted them together. He had not admitted to anything about their relationship,certainly not to having become blinded by all his endorsements, money, and promised glory. Since arriving in New York, other than being a wonderful lover, Michael had been missing in action where their relationship was concerned. Dawn had not been able to get through to him before he’d cheated on her, and afterward, she hadn’t even tried. It hurt too much and she was tired of hurting.

As the microwave timer buzzed, Michael flung the door open and grabbed the hot muffin. Dawn watched him blow on his steaming hot breakfast and then toss it onto the granite kitchen countertop. This was the longest time she had been in his presence since the Chicago incident.

Michael had to notice her sitting in the living room watching him, but he would never let on. He was even more stubborn than she was now. Dawn knew that he would not speak to her until she broke the silence. She was certain that he assumed his initial begging and diamond-tennis-bracelet guilt bribe should have been sufficient for her to stop sulking. She knew he really thought she should just get over it. Normally she would have been the peacemaker in their relationship, but that role had begun to feel stale. She was not interested in keeping score. She simply wanted to tell him she was leaving. Watching him greedily gobble down his food, Dawn knew that Michael could have easily continued with this game of silence for months. She had outgrown these childish tactics.

She let him finish eating his breakfast and figured that now was the best time to break the news to him. Just as Michael rinsed off his hands at the kitchen sink, Dawn rose from the couch and walked toward him.

Standing with the kitchen counter between them, Michael gave her one of those killer smiles that usually made her heart melt.

“So you finally ready to kiss and make up now?” Michael said, continuing to grin.

Dawn smiled weakly, unable to speak.

“I know these past few weeks have been hard. Let’s just forget about it and move on,” Michael said, still grinning from ear to ear.

Dawn managed to shake her head as she felt the tears sting her eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Michael said, moving around the kitchen counter toward her.

Dawn instinctively backed away from him before he could reach her. “Michael, don’t …” Dawn began, fighting back the tears. “Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

Michael stopped a few feet short of Dawn and stared at her. “You’re scaring me, Dawn. You’re looking at me like you don’t even know me,” Michael said, taking another step forward.

Dawn lifted her balled-up left fist and held it in midair for a few seconds before speaking. “Michael … I love you. I admire you, I don’t think I’ll ever get over you, but I’m going to have to give this back to you,” Dawn said as she opened her fist and placed the five-carat diamond engagement ring on the kitchen counter.

Michael only stared in disbelief. “I … I don’t understand, Dawn.”

“I know you don’t, Michael,” Dawn said, unable to stop a lone tear from rolling down her flushed cheek.

“But, Dawn … I told you that girl in Chicago didn’t mean nothing to me. I told you she was just going to be in a photo shoot with me. That’s all it was. Why you gotta go and give me the ring back? It wasn’t that deep,” Michael said, sounding flustered.

“Exactly, Michael. It was not that deep, for you. That’s the problem. You don’t get it. You just aren’t listening,” Dawn said, walking back toward the couch to pick up her small duffel.

Michael ran up behind her and snatched the bag out of her hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” Michael said, still holding her luggage.

“Michael, you should thank me. I’m letting you off easy. Now you don’t have to hear my nagging anymore.” Dawn reached for her bag.

Michael pulled the bag so it was out of her reach. “Come on, Dawn. You don’t want to leave. Everything’s gonna be all right. We can have a nice dinner tonight after the game and then we can come home and snuggle … Well, not tonight ‘cause I’m leavin', but … but maybe when I get back from Los Angeles. Come on, baby. I know this isn’t what you want,” Michael pleaded.

“You’re right. It’s not what I want …” Dawn began.

“And neither do I. We can work this out.”

“And after you get back from California, then what? What do we do then?” Dawn asked, already knowing what his answer would be.

“Then it’s me and you. We’ll concentrate on our relationship. I promise.”

“Until your next flavor of the month or your next call from Jake or your next photo shoot or until you have some other basketball-related commitment that causes you to run off and leave me again. Until you can put off marriage once again. I don’t want your broken promises anymore. I’m sick of trying to convince you that I’m worthy enough to marry. I’m sick of the people in your life making decisions for you and for me. All this extra stuff that comes along with you wanting to be the biggest sports star in the world, which Nike ad you get next, which billboard you’re going to grace next—all that stuff is frivolous and has no place in a relationship. At least not with me. I just wanted you. I’m tired of always coming second in your, life, Michael,” Dawn said, resolutely shaking her head.

“Dawn, what about your work? As much time as you spend at that hospital, it’s not like you put me first either,” Michael countered.

“Stop trying to bullshit me again, Michael. You’re just rationalizing your behavior. You know that’s different. When I’m at the hospital, that’s work, and I leave it there where it belongs. When I’m at home with you, I’m all yours. And you know what else? I’m ready, willing, and able to be all yours for the rest of my life. You can’t say the same thing. You’re not ready for a committed relationship, Michael, but I am and I want it from you. Can you say you want the same thing from me?” Dawn said as she stared at the only man she’d ever truly loved.

Michael dejectedly sat down on the sofa and dropped Dawn’s bag to the floor.

“I didn’t think so,” Dawn said, leaning down to retrieve her bag as Michael grasped her arm.

Dawn remained in the same position for a few moments as her eyes and Michael’s locked in unspoken understanding. Pulling herself back up, Dawn smiled at Michael through her pain.

“Dawn, wait … don’t,” Michael said.

Dawn leaned down once more and gave him a deep kiss full on the mouth before she pulled away for the last time. “Michael. It’s okay. Itreally is. You’ll be fine. Our relationship has run its course. That happens. I guess it’s a part of growing up.” Her own words ripped at her heart.

She stared at Michael long and hard once more before she left the apartment that used to be theirs. He looked to her like a distraught little boy who had just lost his first pet, and as she walked out the front door, she knew he would be fine. As the tears relentlessly streamed down her face, she only hoped she would recover.

Remy’s hand shook uncontrollably as she inserted
the key in the door. Collin had given it to her the year before, telling her that she was always welcome in his home. Popping in on Collin without calling first had never been her style, but on this particular occasion she did not care about such formalities.

Liza, her agent, had telephoned her earlier this morning in Toronto and told her about the
New York Post
article.

Collin had not left Remy any other choice except to find out the truth for herself.

As Remy eased the door open, she heard talking that sounded like it was coming from the library. Stepping inside Collin’s foyer, she softly shut the thick oak door behind her. As much as Remy believed she had a right to know what was really going on, she still felt as if she was sneaking up on Collin.

After Liza had read the article to Remy and described the photo, Remy knew she had to confront Collin in person. She had fled herhotel room determined to catch the first flight to New York. An array of emotions had raced through her mind as she sat on the airplane. For months now, she had to admit that her conversations with Collin had been strained. Even though an unspoken distance had crept between them, Remy had assumed the main reason for his aloofness was the Flyers’ play-off pressures, not that he was having a relationship with someone else—well, she had to admit the thought had crossed her mind. But never did she suspect that it was with another man. It was just too devastating to believe.

As she walked through the dimly lit foyer toward the library, the unmistakable smell of blueberry bagels drifted through the air. She and Collin used to eat them whenever she spent the night. Now she became increasingly nervous as she physically neared the man she had been so emotionally tied to over the last three years. She had no idea what she was going to say.

When she entered the cherry-wood library, Collin was sitting on his hunter green leather sofa with the phone in one hand and the other one reassuringly on Phil’s shoulder as if he were consoling him. Phil was sitting at Collin’s feet on the floor in front of the coffee table, reading a magazine. The picture worth a thousand words was right there before her—domestic bliss. Pain sliced through her. Remy felt sick to her stomach. She felt humiliated and betrayed. The two men worked together. Phil had always been so friendly toward her. She had thought he and Collin were like brothers. It was embarrassing watching the two men in such an intimate scene. The lone, strong woman who had for the first time in a relationship lowered her shield of armor felt a thousand things. Remy used to be the one sitting between Collin’s legs on the floor; now she was an intruder. Too stunned to say anything, she remained transfixed.

She searched for words that refused to come. This could not be happening.

Remy closed her eyes for a moment in hopes of regaining her composure. When she opened them, Phil was sitting up ramrod-straight staring at her. Collin abruptly hung up the phone. No one said anything as time was suspended and the room took on a surreal quality.

Both men rose at the same time—fumbling, looking ashamed andguilty. They were both parties to the deceit. Collin took a few steps toward Remy while Phil began straightening the papers on the coffee table.

Remy’s eyes bored into Collin’s, questioningly. Why? Why hadn’t he told her? Numbness crept inside her, replacing the hysteria and nervousness she had felt in the taxi ride on her way from Kennedy Airport. As her defense mechanisms were kicking in, Collin continued to walk toward her with sorrow in his eyes.