Page 79 of Bae

The loud drone of the music playing in the background brought me back into focus. These thoughts didn’t belong here right now. Right now, it was football time.

On the sidelines, I watched our players go at it. Practice tonight was an ass-kicker.

“Romeo!” My name floated through the noise, along the breeze.

I didn’t pay much attention. My name was yelled a lot during games and practices… and in general.

“Anderson!” The use of my last name had me glancing around. No one ever called me that, at least not fans. Or hell, even the team. Anderson wasn’t even on the back of my uniform. I was simply Romeo.

Note: watch out for imitations. There is only one.

And it’s not that guy Shakespeare wrote about either.

One of the team staff members was rushing toward me, a headset perched on his head, a Knights jacket around his torso. He carried a clipboard and pen. In his hand was a phone.

“Romeo!” he called out again as he drew closer.

I turned my back on the team and stepped forward, leaning down so I could better hear whatever he had to say over the noise.

“Urgent phone call.” He shoved the phone between us.

Urgent phone call?

I didn’t even have a chance to panic—you know how your stomach drops and you automatically assume the worst because the word urgent was being thrown around? I didn’t have any of that.

It was like my mind was suddenly stuffed full of cotton. I felt my blood pressure spike, but even that was muted.

I grabbed the phone. “This is Roman Anderson.”

The voice on the other end of the line was strange and unfamiliar. He spoke fast, and it took my muddled brain a second to catch up. I pressed a finger to my other ear, trying to mute out some of the background noise so I could focus on his words.

All the blood drained from my face.

“What!” I yelled.

He started talking again, rambling really… All that blood that drained from my head? It rushed right into my chest. Adrenaline spiked inside my body so fast my head spun.

I stopped hearing. I barely even thought.

The phone hit my foot when I dropped it, but I didn’t pick it up.

I started running. Not out to the field where I was supposed to be, but away. People called my name. I didn’t even pause.

I ran as fast as I could; I ran for my life.

Rimmel

To go or not to go? That was the question.

The day after Ivy and I returned home from Romeo’s game, I called my obstetrician. I spoke to her nurse and requested the doctor herself give me a call back when she had a free moment.

That free moment came the next day. Have you ever waited for a phone call and every minute, every hour seemed extremely dragged-out until you thought you might scream? Yeah, it’s no picnic.

I was at the shelter when my cell finally rang. I told her exactly what I told Romeo—I wanted to come in. I wanted to be sure everything was as it should be. I wanted peace of mind.

I requested an appointment for early the next week, when I knew Romeo would be able to make a quick trip home between games. Unfortunately, my OB was going to be out of the office all next week.

Apparently, she was going to Bora Bora.

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