The Wife Win

Harper

“I sure hope you’re feeling better than you look, babes.”

I give Jade an evil glare from the rim of the coffee cup that’s tipped up to my lips. She has a point. I’m sure I look like hell, but I’ve chosen not to examine my visible mistakes in the mirror this morning. Maybe drinking that entire bottle of wine I bought yesterday by myself—on an empty stomach—wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had.

But who could blame me after how horribly it went with Marek?

My comment back is snarky and juvenile. Thankfully, she’s my friend and will forgive me.

“At least this will pass,” I tease, circling my face with my index finger. “You’re stuck with your looks for life.”

Jade howls with laughter, slapping her knee as if it’s the most hilarious put-down she’s ever heard. I’m sure it ranks up there because it’s completely ironic. Jade is one of the most beautiful people on this planet—inside and out.

She’s been there for me through thick and thin. Even now, when I am at my lowest, she’s the bright spot in the universe.

In the ten plus years since meeting on our freshman basketball squad, both of us on scholarships, Jade has blossomed from the tall and willowy, flat-chested, sporty-girl, into an elegantly groomed business woman who turns heads with her light brown skin and uniquely hazel-gold eyes.

Jade was born in eastern Washington, her father a black Army staff sergeant and her mother a white woman looking to escape the boredom of living in a small farming town. They didn’t remain there long and ended up moving to the Seattle area when Jade was a toddler, not only because of her dad’s promotion, but to leave behind the underlying passive-aggressive racism of small town mentality.

I know her parents hid many of the difficulties they faced as an interracial couple from Jade and did everything in their power to ensure she was afforded opportunities to get an education and a career of her choosing. They are an amazing couple and I love them like they are my own family.

In fact, I was hoping I’d get to see them during my visit this week, but they’re on a trip to Hawaii to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary.

Jade fills her cup and gracefully sits down at her kitchen table, examining me with the click of her tongue.

“You going to stay in here all day and wallow in self-pity? Or get out there and do something to change things?”

I drop my head onto my arm on the table like a drama queen and groan out a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve got nothing, Jade…”

When I raise my head, Jade’s eyes are sympathetic. “You always have choices.”

I throw my hands up near my head. “Like what? How am I going to get the promotion I need or get hired in Seattle without building my portfolio? It’s the nature of the beast. In order to get the job, you must firsthavethe experience.”

“I get that. But then why put all your eggs in one basket with Marek Talbert? Why not go after one of the players? Like that dude, what’s his name?” She snaps her fingers. “The one who had the breakdown?”

“Zeke Forester. And that story’s been done. It’s over and no longer relevant. In fact, his wife or fiancée, Dr. Rush, even wrote and published a book about it.”

Jade taps a fingernail over her lips as she considers. Then, she points a finger at me like a light bulb just went off. “Okay…how about that player who gave up his baby for adoption when they were teens. Then he and his now wife reconnected, and found the baby again? That’s a great comeback story.”

I know she’s trying to be helpful, but Jade’s missing the point. I don’t want to do stories that have already been reported on and told. And I’m not interested in the personal side. I’m a true fan of the game. The Pilots are a losing team right now. I want to know directly from the source how Marek and his staff plan to turn it around.

“You’re thinking about Carver and Logan Edwards,” I explain. “And that’s been done too. I’m not anEntertainment Tonightcorrespondent. I couldn’t care less about their personal lives. I care about the team and the strategies to get them to the next level. I love the game of basketball, just like you. That’s what I want to report on. The stats. The strategy. The moves that have to be made to make it all work. And Marek is the one who holds the answers.”

I get up from the table to rinse out my mug as Jade silently contemplates the situation.

“Okay, then. How about Coach Green or any of the assistant coaches for the Pilots?”

I stand at the sink, my back to her, struggling not to scream as I stare out the kitchen window of her Queen Anne Hill apartment. It’s a prime spot overlooking the Space Needle a mile away at the bottom of the hill, next to the basketball arena. The place I’m desperate to get my foot in the door.

“Hannah’s tumor didn’t shrink,” I blurt out, the hitch in my throat turning to a sob. “She needs surgery next week.”

“Oh honey,” Jade coos, jumping up from the table to wrap her arms around me in a hug, laying her head against my neck. “I’m so sorry.”

My body trembles and I’m wracked with ugly tears as they pour down my face, dropping into the sink below.

“That’s why I need this exclusive so bad. It’s the only way I can get the in I need at the Seattle station to earn more money and help her pay for all of this. It’s now a matter of life and death. Hannah’s life.”

She spins me around, lifting my chin with her finger underneath.