Page 15 of Not Before Game Night
That was the one thing of his, however, that truly bothered me because it was that personality of his that made him think it was okay to put my mother through all the shit he’d dealt her way.
Some said it was the stress of her life with him, and the constant cheating, that gave her cancer.
That was my aunt’s philosophy because she couldn’t understand why Mom stayed with Dad when she knew what he was like. Aunt Lurlene even went as far as to say that it was his death that mutated her cells. Not because he’d died, but of how he’d died.
Dad died doing what he loved most. Cheating on her. He actually died while in the act of doing it with a girl who was barely legal. It was a heart attack.
A heart attack while in the act of cheating with a football groupie, his final act in life to disrespect my mother.
Of course it was all over the press as like every other scandal Dad was involved in. And, just so there was no doubt in our minds as to how he’d died, the girl had given the National Enquirer a full testimony of the whole event, accompanied with pictures of the beach hut Dad took her to.
What had disgusted me the most was, that same weekend was Mom’s birthday. Dad had told us he’d be getting back late because of awork thing. Fucking hell, the man was evil.
The press made great work of highlighting how he’d spent his final moments with this girl instead of my mother on her birthday.
Four months after his death Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.
That was three years ago, and we’d had a long journey to get her to this point where she was cancer free.
“What are you painting tonight?” she asked as I walked over to her.
“Not sure. I was thinking of letting my imagination run wild. You?”
“The same.” She nodded.
I grabbed two chairs for us, and we both sat in front of our easels, ready to go.
“So, are you nervous about the new season?” she asked, glancing over at me.
“No.” I chuckled. That was probably a lie. There was a little part of me that was nervous simply because I was new. I’d trained with the team, but I hadn’t played a live game as part of their team. It was different. That was however as far as nerves went.
“Really? You join a new national team and you aren’t a tad nervous?” She raised her brows. “Sounds like you’re lying through your teeth to me.”
“Okay, I’m a little nervous. It’s going to be different, but I’m excited.”
She smiled and started setting up her paint. “I’m excited for you. It’s good to have you here, around again. I like living in the good O.C. The air is fresher.”
I laughed. “Mom, it’s the same Californian air we all breathe.”
“It is not.” She pouted. “Trust me, it’s different. Your father used to say the same thing. He couldn’t tell either.”
I didn’t say anything. No comment. I could talk big about Dad with anyone else besides her. It was hard. Weird even, and weirder because she always spoke about him like we’d been one big happy family.
She’d loved him. Too much in my book. She loved a man who didn’t love her half as much as she loved him, and she could have done better.
I glanced at her canvas as she started painting. Sometimes I’d wait to see what she came up with before I started.
No one knew I did this, and I planned to keep it that way. Private and personal.
Mom did a lot of fantasy paintings. She liked unicorns. I liked painting things a little bit darker, like angels with black wings, and what Mom called my porn fairies. This was the part that wouldn’t come as a shock to anyone who found out I did this.
I liked painting erotic fairies, basically the sexy version of Tinkerbell minus the clothes. They were all naked, but I never showed any private parts. There would be something hiding them in some way. Their wings, a flower or a bunch of flowers, or some kind of animal. What I focused on was the sexy up-to-no-good expression on their faces.
There was only one time when I’d painted the fairy naked, and it was a replica of my wild imagination.
After my little run-in with Vanessa ten years ago, my mind had conjured up the wildest vision ever. So, I’d painted her. Naked. Never got to see her naked, but that little pink set she’d bought just for me had left very little to the imagination.
She’d became the naked fairy.
