Ric went to see Gini every day he was in town and usually stayed at least two hours. Now that he could sit next to her on the couch, he felt much closer to her. She always sat with her back straight—tense. He put his arm on the back of the couch or at his side, not wanting her to feel any more uncomfortable. It reminded him of when they had renewed their friendship after not seeing each other for a few years. She had been careful not to get too close to him; after all, she was married. His affection had been strong from the beginning, though he thought of it at first as friendship, or even family since he had practically lived at her house during their high school years. It was comforting to think of this as being like that—a temporary distance. But he knew her recovery would be long and hard. He’d been reading up on brain trauma, and much of it scared him. But there were amazing stories, people defying the odds. That was his Gini, he was sure of it.
Most days he would read to her or talk to her about the projects in Florida and The Bahamas. He told her Val, Rosa, and Kat always asked about her and missed her. She would generally fall asleep and slump to lie on him. Then he wrapped his arms tight around her and held her close. He breathed in the fragrance of her hair, held her body, and remembered when she’d been whole. The memories were sweet and sad at once. He liked to think that he was communicating them to her, that his presence had an effect.
Debbie’s heart felt for him. Gini had made no indication she knew who he was or his name. She knew that broke his heart, but he continued to show a brave and happy face.
It was a Thursday night in early November. Debbie and Gini were watching the Patriots game on the TV in the living room when Ric arrived. The minute he walked in, Gini said, “Fuu… baa.”
“Oh… you’re watching the game.”
She was sitting in her wheelchair, and Debbie was on the couch going through some instruction books.
“Hi, Ric. You a fan?”
“Yes, I am, but not as much as Gini.”
“Here, you two sit here.” She got up, and Ric lifted Gini out of the chair and sat her on the couch.
“I had the TV on one day and there was a Pats’ game.” Debbie helped to get Gini comfortable on the cushions. “She got all excited, so I left it on. I try to remember to turn the TV on when they’re playing.”
The whole time Debbie talked, Gini repeated over and over, “Fuu… baa.” Debbie reached down and put her hand under her chin. “There you go, baby. Enjoy your game.” She kissed her on the forehead.
Ric sat next to her. He gently brushed on her hand. He so wanted to kiss her like Debbie had just done, but he didn’t want to upset her.
“Gini was a cheerleader all through high school. In those days, she knew nothing about the game of football. But once we got to Boston for university, she was all about college football and the Patriots, calling them her boys.”
Gini turned, looked at him, opened her eyes, and smiled. “Fuu… baa… pa… tee.” She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and took in a deep breath. Ric sat speechless; she smiled at him; she smiled!
He looked emotionally at Debbie.
“I know,” she said. “She started smiling while you were gone. Isn’t it a beautiful smile?”
Ric nodded his head, still fully consumed with emotion.
There was a loud cheer from the TV. Gini straightened her back more and opened her eyes. “Sah… coh.”
“Looks like she’s still the cheerleader,” Debbie said.
The two teams ended up in a big pile on the scoring side of the goal line. The Patriots scored.
“Yeah,” Ric said, finding his voice. “She used to be so intense watching at my neighborhood football parties. Man, everyone misses her; I miss her.”
“You said when you came to Boston. Why here?”
“We all had college scholarships at schools here. Gini graduated high school at the age of sixteen and then received a BA in political science and an MBA at the age of twenty. She’s quite intelligent…” He turned toward her. “A smart, beautiful woman.”
Debbie agreed. “And you boys, where did you go?”
“Franco got an engineering degree from MIT. It was Harvard Law for me.”
“You’re a lawyer? I thought you were in the entertainment business.”
Ric smiled his charming smile. “Checking up on me, huh?”
“Lisa looked you up on the internet.”
“I did practice law for a while. My only client’s business organized political and social events, mostly for charity. When he wanted to retire and sell his business, I bought it. I loved being with all the people, their energy, their great spirit. Then I met Valentino Vasquez, my client in Fort Lauderdale. I passed the bar in Florida, so now I help him with just about everything—legal, finances, marketing. It’s challenging and interesting.”
“Do you party here?”
“Not now; too many people want to know about Gini.” He looked up and smiled at his happy thoughts. “We had so much fun at those parties, dancing the night away, or enjoying my neighbors at the weekly football parties.” He looked at Debbie again, still smiling. “She always had that football party ponytail going. Ah, such great times.”
Gini started repeating “Fuu… baa” again. She sat straight and intense as the game continued.
Her repeating the same broken word slowly, over and over, bothered Ric. Why couldn’t she just say it normally and be done with it?
Just before halftime, she fell asleep, and Ric pulled her close to him. He brushed the soft dark curls that covered her head. A
