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Hagan pushes the door open slowly and his room has been transformed in a way. Above his bed is a large picture of us. I’m sitting on his lap during pajama night. His hands are around my waist. My eyes are squinted looking up at him. He’s looking down at me with his dimple framing the side of his face.
I truly didn’t think I had any liquid left in my body, but tears climb up and spill over my lids. “It’s us.” He strokes my hair.
But that’s not all. There are pictures with everyone in Hagan’s family. I’m in a few of them. But all are recent, either at Thanksgiving or when the Kodiaks played in the World Championships.
“They love you. I’ll never be able to repay my family and your dad for taking care of you when I couldn’t.” He tears up but he holds them back. “I don’t know if I can forgive myself for not being there for you and Joe.” His thumbs wipe away my tears.
“The nurse said when Joe talked on Tuesday, he asked if he had dreamed you being there with him. She laughed and told him about how you wouldn’t leave and how you lied and said you were his brother.”
We laugh and a snot bubble blows from my nose. He takes them hem of his shirt and wipes it away. Now that’s love.
“He knew you were there sitting with him that night. He knows you love him.” My voice cracks. “You know how we distribute the weight to carry the load? I’ll help you carry the load.” I use his words, hoping he understands that I’ll always be there to help him.
Hagan and I spend the night talking through our feelings about the wreck. Well not the entire night, Hagan is fantastic at multi-tasking. I think we were asleep by nine, which must a college student record. But we wake up at five a.m. and drive to the job site.
We sit on the floor with puffy jackets because it’s December, and the wind is whipping. He pulls me on to his lap. My back pressed against his chest and all feels right in the world as we watch the sunrise.
“I want to build our house where we wake up seeing sunrises like this. The pinks and purples streaking the sky.”
I lean back and looking into his gorgeous caramel brown eyes that are free of guilt. “I’d live in a shack with you if we woke up to this.”
He tightens his grip then flips me around so I’m straddling him. “I love you so damn much.” He sighs. “Do you think Joe’s going to recover?”
“I do. He may not be able to play this year, though.”
Hagan stills, probably not expecting me to say the truth. He traces my hairline. “We were talking one day about him taking care of Ginger when she was sick. He said,‘If taking care of her is the last thing I do on earth, it will be a life that was worth living.’I know now if he passed away, he would have been happy. The rest of us would have been devastated but…thankfully, we don’t have to cross that bridge.”
We’re soak in the sunrise and the feel of being in each other’s arms, when I ask, “Why did you shave your hair off?”
He takes a deep breath, and it looks like smoke coming out of his mouth. “When the doctor explained about the brain bleed, I came home and looked it up on the internet. I did it in solidarity with Joe. If his head was going to be shaved, so was mine. But I did it to punish myself—my hair is my best asset.”
“Really, I thought your best asset was…”
“Babe, that asset is reserved for you—for longer than life.”
Epilogue
Hagan
The gymnastics centeris filled to capacity. Team Adalee is out in full force. Every single one of my family members and their children are here. Mr. and Mrs. Summers are here with her twins and Megan is fawning all over them. I’ll be surprised if she makes it a year without being pregnant. But it’s Harper that takes them under her wing.
Mr. Summers has been present in Adalee’s life, even from Florida. He calls her almost every day, asking her about school and how her skills are progressing. If he doesn’t understand, he asks her to send a video.
In some ways, Mr. Summers knocking on Adalee’s door that night was the best thing that could have happened. It made her open up to me on an emotional level and the sexual part defies physics too. Sometimes we’ll be lying in bed, and she will do a handstand over top of me. She’s so strong that she can bend her elbows far enough to kiss me before she presses back up.
When the gymnasts are introduced. I look down at Adalee with her hair in four braids then pulled into a bun and her royal blue leotard has rhinestones in the shape of a stallion. She shifts her weight from left to right as she stares at something or nothing. This is how many athletes get into the zone. Our minds zero in on a spot on the wall or an empty space and let our inner thoughts speak.
I can do this. I’m a winner. Perfection.
Sometimes, I’m amazed that Adalee is my girl and that she stayed with me. But damn, I’m glad she did.
Joe sits beside me with his noise cancelling headphones. Adalee was right, he isn’t playing this season yet. He’s on the injured list for the time being. He’s living with Ginger and Adalee because the home run house is too noisy. He’s still having headaches, but the doctors insist his recovery is on schedule.
The meet begins and Ginger is first on the vault, which is Adalee’s favorite apparatus. For now, she isn’t competing on vault. Adalee’s goal is to perform her new vault by the end of season.
“You’ve got this, Red!” Joe shouts.
I watch my girl popping her knuckles as her gaze drills in on Ginger. She’s talking to herself. Ginger takes off running and pounds into the springboard and flies into the air. She twists one or two times, it’s hard to tell from here. The vault is on the other side of the gymnasium. Then she hits the landing. Our section goes crazy. After hugging the coach, the next person she embraces is Adalee.
