Homecourt Advantage (37 page)

The previous excitement Trina had experienced when she’d been pregnant with Monica and Marcus was absent. She was moments away from finding out the sex of her baby and she felt little emotion. Trina had been moving in lackluster circles ever since Rick had gone. If it were not for the kids’ needs and Aunt Thelma’s easy companionship, she may have never gotten out of bed. She missed the certainty of knowing that Rick would be there for her and their children. And she missed Rick.

Dr. Ruthie McCray finally sauntered into the room, smiling from ear to ear, with her tortoiseshell glasses only slightly obscuring her bright green eyes. As the statuesque doctor looked around the small room, Trina realized she was searching for Rick. Trina had an ache in her heart wishing that Rick could have been there to share in this moment. She stared at Dr. McCray’s simple gold wedding band as she quickly read over Trina’s chart and wondered if her marriage was one of wedded bliss or if she ever experienced problems with her own husband.

Trina lay back at Dr. McCray’s direction and jumped when the cold gel was spread over her ever-expanding stomach.

“So Mr. Belleville won’t be joining us today, huh? Trying to beat the Lakers on their turf? Well, I sure hope they can bring a championshiphome to New York,” Dr. McCray said as she moved the Doppler mechanism in circular motions over Trina’s stomach.

Trina only nodded her head.

Even at the doctor’s office, partially nude, Trina was unable to escape who she was married to. In the past, questions surrounding Rick’s career had flattered her. She had always thrived on his accomplishments. But recently the luster of his career had begun to fade. She had her own personal goals to accomplish; no longer was she content to bask in the glow of his light.

Suddenly there was nothing glamorous about being married to Rick Belleville, the NBA star. Reality had replaced glamour. Trina was alone, tending to a pregnancy that only one parent wanted.

“It looks like you have a little boy! See there?” Dr. McCray said, pointing to the screen displaying the fetal image. “Looks like another basketball player in the making.”

“I hope not,” Trina said under her breath, staring at the speckled ceiling.

“He’s a busy little thing. You see him, Mrs. Belleville?”

Trina slowly turned her head toward the monitor and watched her baby’s black-and-white floating image on the screen. It was hard to believe that he was swimming around inside of her. She was the holding tank for this new life, and she had no idea what their future held. She could not say with any degree of certainty that this unborn child would ever spend any birthdays or holidays with his father.

For the first time, she did not have the security of knowing she could depend on her husband when the baby came. It was a sobering feeling. At least with Monica and Marcus, she’d been able to count on his presence with some regularity. And thinking about it, really that was all he did—show his face every now and then. Trina thought about Rick’s involvement with his children, and the only thing that came to mind was him picking up Monica on his shoulders occasionally or taking Marcus to practice with him every now and then.

As Trina began to ponder her husband’s role as a father, she realized that Rick rarely helped the children with their homework. He never even sat on the floor and played with them. What would herunborn baby be missing other than unfulfilled expectations? No matter how much she missed him, if Rick ever wanted to come back home, he was going to have to work on a whole lot more than remedying his gambling problem. He had to learn to put family first. Trina had known long ago that she came second place. But the children deserved to be number one in their father’s life.

Casey leaned back in her chair, clasping both of her
hands behind her head, and stole a glance at Nikki. The little girl abruptly sat back in her miniature chair with her chubby hands locked behind her head, mimicking Casey. Quickly sitting forward, Casey placed her elbows on her desk and put her open palms under her chin. Nikki imitated her once again, resting her tiny elbows on the play table Brent had bought for her. The table had been in the kitchen, but since Nikki liked to color in Casey’s home office while she worked, they had moved it there. All morning long, whenever Casey made the slightest shift of her body, Nikki would try and do the exact same thing. Even when Casey was on the phone, Nikki pretended that she was talking as well, repeating blurbs from Casey’s conversation.

Nikki’s mother, Shauna, had yet to return. Casey knew by now that Shauna was not suffering from any illness as she had claimed when shefirst dropped Nikki off on their doorstep. She simply had another agenda—one that did not include raising a child. Casey had walked in on a conversation between Brent and Nikki’s mother. She had called Brent two weeks ago, claiming she had personal problems and couldn’t handle Nikki in
her
life right now but that she planned on depositing Nikki with some nameless cousin in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Understandably, Brent had been outraged at the prospect of Nikki living with a strange cousin of Shauna’s. He was furious at Shauna for even suggesting it. Truthfully, Brent would have been outraged at the thought of Nikki being anyplace except with him and Casey. Of course, this had been exactly what Nikki’s mother was counting on—Brent’s fierce love for his daughter. He had played right into her hands when he told Shauna Nikki wasn’t going anywhere. Showing her colors, Shauna had reacted by putting a price tag on her own daughter’s head. Casey had tried to explain to him that legally he had just as much right to be with Nikki. But Brent had been so shaken up, it didn’t matter to him that what Shauna was attempting amounted to extortion. He simply wrote her a check in hopes of getting her out of their lives. Brent just didn’t understand that they couldn’t buy her off forever. Casey was well aware that the custodial issue regarding Nikki could ultimately only be resolved in court or arbitration. Brent didn’t want to hear it, though. His only concern was for his daughter to be with them right now.

The truth was, Casey felt sorry for the innocent little girl. It was obvious that Shauna was using both Brent and Nikki. Casey didn’t want to see Nikki hurt any more than she already had been.

Casey was supposed to be at work right now, but Martha was visiting her daughter who had just given birth. And the alternate baby-sitter had called in sick at the last minute. The timing could not have been worse. Casey was working against a deadline for one of her clients, the Harlem Renaissance Theatre Company, and she needed to file a temporary injunctive order within the next twenty-four hours against one of the major Broadway production companies. The company was trying to cancel HRTC’s remaining performances of
Body and Soul
because of pressure from right-wing religious groups claiming that the subject matter of the play was lewd, lascivious, andobscene. The religious group’s assertions that the production was patently offensive scared the production company into trying to censor its own partner, HRTC, in the joint venture.

Casey probably would have been more upset about the cancellation if Nikki had not gotten so excited when she found out that Casey was not going to leave. It was fortunate for Casey that she did not have any actual meetings today or she would have been forced to take Nikki to the office with her and leave her with her secretary. Now Casey only needed a messenger to come to her apartment and pick up the temporary injunctive order that she’d been able to pull up from her home computer, which was connected to her office system. Brent was not due back in town until tomorrow morning, and Casey had been taking care of Nikki in the evenings when she returned from work.

For the past week the two had been following a comfortable routine. They had dinner together each evening, then Casey would bathe her and they would play with some of Nikki’s new toys until it was time for Casey to read her a bedtime story.

A couple of times Casey actually found herself rushing home, wanting to see the little girl run to the front door to greet her. Once she’d arrived home late and found Nikki in the foyer, half asleep on the floor, with the pictures she had colored for Casey clutched in her small hands. The baby-sitter had said she hadn’t been able to get her to move from the spot. That nearly broke Casey’s heart.

“What are you doing, little girl?” Casey said, squeezing Nikki’s button nose. “Are you acting like me?”

“Yes.” Nikki nodded. “I Casey. I go to work.”

“Is that what you’re doing? You’re working like me?” Casey asked, smiling.

Nikki nodded again. “I busy. I very busy. See?” Nikki said as she tucked her head over the paper in front of her and began to scribble.

Casey quizzically looked at Nikki and wondered what she knew about Casey being busy. She was only three years old.

“Who told you I was busy?” Casey asked as Nikki continued to draw on the papers.

“See, Casey, see?” Nikki said, holding up her work for Casey’s inspection.

“Oh, that’s pretty, Nikki,” Casey said, looking at Nikki’s picture.

“It’s for you, Casey. It’s Nikki’s work.”

“Nikki. Who told you I was busy?” Casey gently asked the little girl, curious as to why she made that comment.

“Daddy say Casey busy. Daddy say Casey very busy,” Nikki said, trying to sound like a reprimanding adult.

“Daddy said that?”

“Daddy say Casey busy. Be good little girl and leave Casey lone. I be quiet. I work too, Casey.” Nikki started drawing another picture.

She and Brent had not exercised any birth control methods since her second miscarriage, but their efforts at getting pregnant had failed. Finally Casey’s doctor had told her that because of an earlier ectopic pregnancy, her chances of ever carrying a pregnancy to term were slim. She had cried herself to sleep on many occasions thinking about the doctor’s bleak prognosis, but with Brent’s constant support, she was beginning to accept her situation. They had all sorts of high-tech methods to choose from, the doctor had told them. But to Casey, it wasn’t an option—it didn’t seem like the way babies were supposed to happen.

Now her life had taken another unexpected turn. Much to her surprise, she had begun to feel a sense of gratification and renewed purpose since Nikki came into her life. And Brent loved Nikki’s being there, a part of them. He relished his role as father and was eating it up with delight. She was seeing on a constant basis a side of Brent she had glimpsed only rarely when Brent Jr. was in town. The daddy side of Brent. The nurturer, mentor—a man she liked.

“Casey, this for you too,” Nikki said, handing her another work of art.

“Thank you, sweetheart. This is so pretty.”

“You want me make you another, Casey?” Nikki hopefully asked.

“I’d love that.”

“You would?” Nikki said as her eyes widened.

“I sure would,” Casey said, beginning to feel morose.

Casey watched as Nikki worked, an intent look on her face, the crayon held tightly between her tiny fingers. She was a special little girl. There was no doubt about that.

As she stared at the child who adored her, Casey wondered if she could overcome the circumstances of Nikki’s conception enough to love her with an unencumbered heart. Casey wished she had the overflowing capacity to completely love this child as her own, but she just didn’t know if she was capable. When would God grant her a forgiving heart?

Steve was ringing Kelly’s doorbell. She’d moved to a
modest suburban town in New Jersey, outside of Philadelphia. The town-house rental she had found so fast was beautiful: a long, airy contemporary three-story unit with a connecting two-car garage. As usual, he marveled how quickly she’d pulled it all together, found a place to live and all. Kelly has landed on her feet, again, Steve thought.

He was about to press the bell again and then Kelly was standing before him. She was wearing a sleek black knit outfit, which hugged the contours of her beautiful body. She wore a row of thin gold bangles on her right arm, and Steve noticed a beautiful new diamond solitaire ring flashing on Kelly’s left hand. Another unknowing victim, he mused.

“Hi, Steve, why don’t you come in.” Kelly stood aside and motioned Steve inside.

“Is Diamond here?”

“No, a friend of mine is watching her. I thought it might be too confusing for her to see you.”

Steve was ready to jump, but resisted. There was something about Kelly’s calm demeanor that made him think she was actually being straight with him. He looked around the comfortably furnished house. She had decorated in typical Kelly style. A leopard-print couch sat in the middle of the living room, flanked by two large black leather chairs. He walked into the room and noticed a trophy sitting on the fireplace mantel. Curious, he moved closer and read the engraving: 2002
NCAA BIG EAST PLAYER OF THE YEAR.

“Is he a friend of yours or did this just come with the house?” Steve asked, turning toward Kelly.

“Actually, both,” Kelly said with a smirk on her face.

Some things never change, Steve thought.

“So what did you do with all the furniture from the other house?”

“Left it—I assumed you’d want to deal with it. Keep it—sell it, whatever. Anyway, I wanted a clean break. Why, don’t you like it?”

“No, no,” Steve said apologetically. “It’s just that I was surprised …”

“At?” Kelly was smiling now.

“I don’t know. I guess all you’ve done. So …”

“So I’m assuming you’re here about the assault charges.” Kelly paused and looked down. “Well, let’s put it this way; I think I’ve changed my mind.”

Was she going to be this easy? Steve thought. No way, not Kelly. She must have something up her sleeve. “Like I said to you on the phone, I thought we could work this out between us.”

“I know, I know. Truthfully, Steve, I don’t want to go over that whole mess again. What I’ve got to say won’t take long.”

“What you’ve got to say?” Steve was on red alert.

“Yeah, what I’ve got to say,” Kelly said flatly.

“Why the hell you’d do it, Kelly? How about startin’ there?”