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“No, thanks. I’m going to try and get some sleep,” I tell him. I’m feeling agitated. I’ve planned this trip meticulously over the last couple of months. But, I know I’m taking a huge gamble.
“Can I have a soda?” Amber pipes up.
Oh, and I’m bringing my beard along for the adventure. Mainly because we still have a few months left in our arrangement. But also, because she gave me the courage.
“Yes, madame. I’ll be back shortly with that drink,” Ryan gives a small bow and Amber giggles. I scowl at him, and he straightens and scurries off.
“You excited?” I ask her.
“Oh my God, yes. It sucks that you’re firing me. But this trip to NYC, entirely on your dime in this sweet plane, I get to slap you in public ... that might make up for it.”
I grip her hand. “Thank you for this. For everything.” I look at her solemnly.
“What are friends for?” she asks dismissively.
“Well, apparently for helping friends pull their heads out of their asses and get their shit together.” Her beautiful brown eyes soften.
“You’re too hard on yourself. You deserve to be happy. And that woman, she loves you. She was nice to me. If I had been talking to my man and another woman picked up his phone, in his bedroom …” She laughs as if she really imagines it. “I would fuck her up. She apologized. She really loves you,” she says and takes a swig of the soda Ryan dropped in front of her.
“Well, I hope you’re right because I’m going for broke.”
“It’s the only way to do it.” She pats my leg. “I’m going to try and sleep. Your last-minute life U-turn was pretty exhausting.”
“Well, get your rest because when I get my shit straight, I’m helping you pull your head out your ass.”
“I’m fine. I’ve got my son. I’m signed for three more seasons. Our breakup is going to be spectacular for my ratings,” she says with a glee that only someone who works in this crazy industry would understand.
“Sure. That’s what life is all about … ratings and contracts.” I raise a knowing eyebrow at her.
“Stop using my words against me. And I’m serious about that nap.” She sticks her earbuds in and reclines her seat.
I should sleep, too. Anticipation, doubt, adrenaline make that impossible.
I called Apollo back the day after she’d called in response to my message on Instagram.
It wasn’t exactly awkward, but I knew I was holding back because there were some things I needed to say face-to-face.
I gave her the full, coherent update on my mother. She told me when Mama got back she wanted to come and visit.
We’d ended the call with promises to stay in touch. And we had. Two days after that call, I sent Apollo a copy of a book I’d read called Astrophysics for Men Not in a Hurry. I slipped a note inside with a line from an untitled sonnet by EE Cummings. “Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun more last than star.”
She sent a text the day after she got it that said, “I’ve already read this book. Duh. But thanks. Also, yes, to that poem.”
It took Amber two days to convince me that now that we were communicating, I should just go for it.
As soon as I decided that I would move to NYC, I talked to Dean. He listened to my ideas. He’s completely unflappable. In a matter of days, he’d helped me sort out my various sponsorship deals and endorsement contracts.
I’ve only got one more in the works, and they almost reneged when I quit the show. I’ve invested wisely from the money I’ve made with my endorsements. I’m not Bill Gates, but if I never earn another cent again in my life, I’ll still be very comfortable. But, I want this deal to go through badly because I have an ambitious project that I’m planning on using the money to fund.
The show has two seasons left to air, and I’ve agreed that I’ll come back for an all-star special. So, they shortened the length of the contract by a year and reduced my fee by almost thirty percent, but it still leaves me plenty of money to play with.
For a life that felt so complicated and large, wrapping up large chunks of it was a relatively painless process. My house is on the market. Mama’s stuff is in storage until she gets back from her trip.
She whooped when I told her. She and Becca are about to board a cruise from Brisbane, Australia that will take them to seven ports in fourteen days. She said when she called next time, Apollo better be sitting next to me. I prayed she would be.
I know Mama’s dying. But, this is the first time in years where that hasn’t been the focus of our lives. She sounds happier and stronger than ever.
The only tricky part for Amber and me is deciding how we’d break up publicly.
