Page 88 of The Road to Home Base
“Call your cousin. Joe,” I said. “Right now. Call him.” He gave me a look. “Call him, Rome.”
The non-sequitur played a number on his emotions, as displayed by the confusion on his face. He grabbed his phone. In a few seconds, he had Joe on speaker between us.
“Rome, buddy, I saw the email come through. Are you sure you wanna—”
“Joe,” I said. “Sorry. You’re on speaker. You need to come here. It’s time.”
I heard him sigh into the phone. “Yeah. Okay. Be there in twenty.” He hung up before Rome could even speak.
“Help me up and to the couch,” I bid Rome.
“Alex, what is going on? I’m so confused.”
I stood up and he helped me. For a moment, we stood together. I leaned all my weight onto him. He didn’t budge. “I’ll tell you when Joe gets here. It’s all good news, okay? Don’t fret.”
The walk back to the couch was exceptionally more difficult than it was leaving. I didn’t have adrenaline fueling every step to confront Rome. We carefully ambled the infinite horizon of a short hallway for someone with broken ribs. I dripped into the couch, as slow as molasses, as Rome re-fluffed a mountain of pillows to get me comfortable. He sat beside me while we waited for Joe. He held my hand like we were at the movies.
Two days had passed since I was admitted to the hospital. Despite being in the ICU, I was discharged from the hospital quickly enough. The swelling had gone down on Rome’s face. I told him at least three times a day that the scar across hiseyebrow would make him even sexier, if that were possible.
A sea of orange pill bottles decorated the platter on the large ottoman. A stack of papers listed out my recovery plan and a notebook beside it kept track of my medications. I was overdue for some pain meds. Rome found the right bottle and helped me pop something small but mighty. I washed it down with water.
“Can you at least give me a hint? This is driving me crazy,” Rome said.
I looked down at the blanket covering my lap. The pattern was geometrical with dark blue threading that matched Rome’s eyes. “I think… you probably already know.”
The hope on his face. I wanted to take a picture. Zoomed in. Just the look. Make it all black-and-white except for those beautiful irises of his.
I didn’t say any more. Neither did he. His leg bounced from anticipation. If only I could crawl onto his lap to massage away the ailments in his mind. We had just reached a new level of our relationship and all I wanted to do was continue to explore that new height. Alas, no amount of pleasure from thrusting would overtake the pain that it would cause. Even heavy breathing hurt, as we discovered last night when Rome tried to, gently, get me off. Besides, the pain meds caused other issues.
Eventually, the doorbell rang and Rome sprang to answer. The door swung inward and he admitted Joe. I made a poor attempt at craning my neck to look over the back of the couch, but my ribs reminded me of why I couldn’t contort my torso. Joe squeezed my shoulder as he walked by, then circled the couch and sat on one of the chairs opposite. Rome dropped into the cushion next to me and leaned his elbows on his knees.
“Okay. Out with it. Not a big fan of waiting,” Rome said.
Joe had a green file folder in his hand. He tossed it so it skidded across the ottoman where Rome stopped it with a flat palm. He looked at me first and I nodded as a go-ahead.
Rome took the folder and opened it up. I narrated as he read. “We’re starting a charity foundation. Both Joe and I recognized the incredible joy you felt at helping Danny and his mother. We don’t want to stop. We want to continue to help those in need. Children, particularly.”
He turned the page, eyes staring but not exactly reading. “If you keep going,” I continued, “right there. Look at the top.”
Rome’s eyes narrowed as he read my name with my title listed underneath. He looked over at me, brow curled upward. “Executive Officer? You?”
I nodded. “Joe and I had to do a few squirrelly things underneath your nose but… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
He swallowed and looked back at the piece of paper. “You… you’re…” Another look of consternation. “Alex, all this… I mean, this is full time. You can’t possibly continue your businessandrun a foundation.”
“I’m running the business side,” Joe said. “Alex’s primary job is identifying candidates. Liaising with hospitals. The stuff he’s good at.”
Rome was shaking his head as Joe spoke. “But that’s still full-time work. Alex, what about your photography? What about that congressman you wanted to get in good graces with? You can’t…” The consternation turned into a darker shade. A small breath of surprise escaped him. “Your sudden free days and nights. Going places you could before without putting up a fight. You’ve been canceling gigs, haven’t you? You’ve been… what… dismantling your business? For this?”
“Yes,” I said succinctly. There was nothing more to say. “I have.”
The darkness in his eyes wasn’t sinister. Betrayal? Concerned anger? What he said next I should have seen coming. Should have anticipated. I blamed the pain meds that had kicked in. “So you get to throw your career away for me but I can’t do the samefor you?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Joe said and held up his hands. “Rome, come on.”
“No,” Rome spat out. “I’m not letting you do this. We can find another executive officer. Alex can still participate but I refuse to let him throw his photography business out the window like this.”
“I’m right here,” I said. Rome turned to look at me. Joe moved to the edge of his seat. This wasn’t what we planned. I expected an exuberant Rome to leap with joy, not lament in misery. “Look, Rome, you’re drawing comparisons where there shouldn’t be. Those two things aren’t the same. You’d be fully ditching your baseball career and everything you’ve been building your whole life. Whereas me? I’m just switching careers. That’s all.”
