Shaking my head, I finish typing my notes and walk over to the exam table.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Marco. If I tell you to elevate your ankle and keep weight off of it, I’m not secretly saying ‘go jogging then jump rope for an hour.’ Understand?”
The young man nods, properly chagrined.
“Okay. You’re all wrapped up and iced. Go home and keep it up, I want you here in two days so I can look at it again.” I tap his leg gently and step back, knowing he won’t want help getting down from the table. They never do.
“Thanks, Britt.” Marco gives me a crooked smile and heads for the office door.
“Oh, and Marco?” He stops and glances over his shoulder. “You get to tell the boss what happened.”
The fighter’s eyes nearly bulge from his head. “No, no, no. You need to do it for me. Please? Oh my god, he’ll kill me.” Marco’s olive skin is significantly paler than a minute ago.
“For Pete’s sake, he won’t kill you.”
“Oh yes he will.” Marco shakes his head. “He’s scary as hell. I don’t know how you do it.”
I laugh and pat the young man’s shoulder. “He’s really not that scary, Marco. Just… ummmm,” I have to concentrate to keep from smiling. “Just don’t look in his eyes when you tell him. That’ll help.” I push the reluctant fighter out of my office and close the door, managing to last until it clicks in place before I burst out in a fit of the giggles.
I clean up the table, spraying it with disinfectant, and toss the open wrappers. My conscious gets the better of me. With a sigh, I go to my desk and pick up the phone.
“Hello, my love.”
“Keller.” I grin even though he can’t see it.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Boy, he’s laying it on thick today, not that I mind. Not one bit. “Marco is coming to see you. Can you go easy on him?”
“Britt,” Keller warns.
“I know, I know. I’m too soft on the fighters. You’ve told me. Just, don’t make him pee his pants.”
Keller’s laugh lights up my insides, filling me with warmth and love. Laughs were rare our first few years together. Between Max’s trial in which he was sentenced to twenty-five years in jail, my therapy for PTSD, and Keller dealing with his sister’s death, neither of us had much to laugh about. Then our life completely changed and the good times began to outweigh the bad.
“I won’t make him pee his pants, I promise,” Keller says when he finally stops laughing. I hear a soft knock on his door though the receiver. “I believe I have a visitor.”
“Be nice,” I warn.
“I’m always nice,” he drawls in his sexy voice. The one that after ten years together still gets me hot and bothered in less than three seconds flat.
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” The phone clicks off and I grin, a silly, stupid, lovestruck grin. Why wouldn’t I? I have everything.
Keller
I shut down my computer and head into the main area of the gym.
“Bye!” I look up to see Roxie heading out the front door.
“See you Monday, Roxie.” I wave as she leaves.
Left alone in the huge space, I put a few things back where they belong and turn off a few lights. When Gabriel retired a few years ago, he asked if I wanted to take his place as head trainer. After five years of fighting and winning three AFL Championships, I was ready to spend more time at home and less time training and traveling to fights.
The door to the gym opens and footsteps pound on the cement floor, echoing in the warehouse-like space.
“Daddy!”
Two colorful blurs dash across the mats and leap on top of me. I pretend to be knocked over and fall to the padded ground. “Oh no, you took me down!”
“That’s because my takedowns are the best, Daddy.”
“Nuh-uh! Mine are. Besides, my arm bar is better than yours!”
The two boys begin bickering so I hold up my hands. Instantly, two sets of eyes focus on me and the noise stops.
“You’re both excellent fighters, okay?”
They seem to think that over for a minute.
“Okay, Daddy,” says Gabriel, my oldest, who is almost eight.
Not only is my son named after the only man to ever believe in me, a man who has become a father to me, but my little Gabriel really is an angel like his namesake. Britt and I were both having a hard time working through our pasts when we found out she was unexpectedly pregnant less than two years after we met, pushing me into finally getting the courage to give Britt the diamond ring I had stashed in my sock drawer for several months.
Something about creating a new life, being parents, sparked our determination to move on from our pain. To live how Kinsey would have wanted. I can’t bring my sister back. I can only accept the gift she gave me by saving Britt, honor her by being a good man. A good husband. A good father. Everything our parents weren’t.
“I don’t know. I still say I’m better than Gabe,” Lucas pipes in. At five, he doesn’t understand the concept of losing or good sportsmanship, but I’m working on it.