Chapter 7

"No," Lauren said, snuggling up to Rick's chest. "I don't want a car. What's more, I don't want a car for free. What's even more, I don't want a car as a free gift from you."

"What do you want," Rick said, playing with her bathrobe belt. "Beside my gift." He pressed himself against her bum.

Lauren giggled. "Who said I want that?" she said.

"You don't?"

"Nah," Lauren said, laughing. "Not in my ass."

"So what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Come on."

"Well," Lauren said. "Actually, you know what I want."

"I know?"

"Yes."

There was a momentarily silence. "I don't," Rick said.

"Do you think you love me?"

"Of course," Rick said. "You know that."

"I don't."

"You don't?"

"I don't."

"I love you, Lauren. I love you."

"Do you mean it?" Lauren said.

"Of course," Rick said.

"You told me it's easy to say, but hard to do it."

There was another momentarily silence.

"I do love you, Lauren. I know it from my heart."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know I haven't," Rick said. He paused, and went on. "You didn't either."

"Because you never had."

"So, do you?"

"No. Well, I don't know."

Lauren resisted, but Rick managed to turn her around to face him. "You're smiling," he said.

"No, I am not," Lauren said, struggling not to smile or laugh.

"Yes, you are," Rick said, smiling. "Do you?"

"I don't know," Lauren said, giggling. "Say it again."

"I love you, Lauren. I've never been so crazy about a woman before."

"I love you, too, Rick," Lauren said, smiling. "I am madly in love with you."

Rick pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

"What now?" Lauren said after the kiss.

"No," Lauren said, giggling, pulling Rick's hand out of her robe. "I don't mean this."

"You don't?"

"No," Lauren said. "Not right now."

"What, then?"

"I want something first."

"Okay, what's it?"

"The championship ring."

"Oh, no," Rick said. "Not again."

"Well," Lauren said. "Yes, again. Yes, again." She giggled, then went on. "You'll beat the Heat for the East Championship. Then beat, hmm, who do you think will win the West?"

"I'll bet on Seattle," Rick said. "The columnists are blind. They still don't know how good Tim Fowl is."

"Well," Lauren said. "Okay, beat the Heat, then beat that goddamned Tim Fowl."

"It's very tough, honey," Rick said. "And the Heat are tough."

"Show the 'Big Fella' you can be bigger than him."

"You've seen him?"

Lauren slapped his lap. "Say it once more and I might," she said.

"Okay," Rick said. "It's very tough, honey. We don't have an answer for Shaq."

"Send Diesel to stop him."

"Diesel will be fouled out before he knows what has happened."

"Well," Lauren said. "They don't have an answer for you either."

"I still don't understand. Why is the ring so important to you?"

"You're an idiot," Lauren said. "Because you're important to me, and the ring is important to you."

"I thought this is," Rick said, pressing himself against her again.

"Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"I forgot," she said. "Were you able to move a finger after you defeated the Sixers?"

"I'm not sure," Rick said, laughing. "Why?"

"When you come home after beating the Heat," Lauren said. "I will guarantee you won't be able to walk for a day. How's that?"

"What if I can walk?"

"You will do it until you can't," Lauren said, laughing. "Oh, damn it. Stop it, get your damn hand off my thigh. You know I'm already wet. Okay, I'm telling you this. If I can still talk afterward, you're busted."

"What are you doing?" Lauren said when she came back from work and saw Rick fiddling with the wires behind the TV.

"I'm showing you a video," Rick said. "Remember I told you something funny I used to practice with Diesel?"

"Yeah," Lauren said. "Okay, let me change first."

Lauren bent down laughing as she watched the video. "My goodness, this is so funny," she said. "What are you doing with him?"

"I'm bumping myself into him," Rick said. "And bouncing off his tummy."

"I know that," Lauren said, still laughing. "And you throw the ball up while you're bouncing away, too."

"Yeah," Rick said. "And you see? The ball goes in."

"Do you make it on purpose?" Lauren said. "You're facing away from the basket. You don't even see the basket."

"Yeah," Rick said. "It's on purpose. Well, half of the throws won't go. See? This one doesn't go."

"Oh my goodness," Lauren said. "It's so funny. You're going to join the Harlem Wizards professional entertainment team?"

"Nah," Rick said. "Well, I may, after retiring from the NBA. I told you it was for fun."

"Okay," Lauren said, snickering. "You're silly, and Diesel's silly, too."

"Well," Rick said. "Coach now has a dirty answer for Shaq. I don't quite like it though."

"You're going to bump into him and bounce off in real games?"

"Yeah," Rick said, laughing. "I'll have to be fast though, before he gets into position, or I'll be called a 'charge'. But if I can bump into him before he's set or still inside the arc, he'll easily get into foul trouble and hopefully I'll be able to attempt a 3-point play."

"Well," Lauren said. "That's kind of nasty, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Rick said. "That's why I don't quite like it. But this is the NBA. We do all kinds of nasty things to win. Actually, they will do nasty things to us as well, like slapping Diesel before he dunks. Nobody can make a worse free throw shooter than Diesel."

"Poor Shaq," Lauren said. "Tell him I feel sorry for him."

"You know," Rick said. "If they play clean with us. I'll play clean with them, I don't care what Coach says. Otherwise I'll play Harlem Wizards with them."

"Okay," Lauren said. "Well, it's kind of late. Pizza or Chinese food?"

"Neither," Rick said. "Let me play a dirty game with you first. I haven't had my shower yet."

Lauren slapped him off as she laughed.

The crowd in Madison Square Garden was chanting for their heroes at their final conference home game of the season. The Knicks led the series three-to-two into this game, and it looked like they were playing with huge confidence. Many fans were already wearing tee-shirts bearing the championship series signs.

The crowd became dead silent when they witnessed Rick fall hard on to the floor in a collision not long into the second half and started squirming on the floor. Lauren gapped as she stood up to look over the shoulder of the guy standing in front of her. She felt Vanessa patting her hand. The Knicks called a time-out. Lauren saw the team trainer and physician went over to inspect Rick. And then two bench players were waved over to carry Rick into the dressing room.

"Do you want to go inside to check on him?" Vanessa asked Lauren.

"I can't," Lauren said. "It's a restricted area. I'm not a staff."

Lauren didn't know how the game was going even though she was watching. Then her phone buzzed. It was Uncle Frazier calling her. The old trainer was carrying Rick's phone.

"He told me to call you," Uncle Frazier said. "He has a hamstring spasm. X-ray is negative. We're taking him to the hospital for MRI. You'd better go home after the game."

Lauren didn't wait for the end of the game. She bid goodbye to her friends, went outside, called a cab home, and waited while she watched for news on the TV.

Lauren rushed to the door when she heard people talking in the corridor outside. She opened the door and saw Rick on a crutch. Uncle Frazier is on one side of him and a big guy was on his other side. Rick smiled at Lauren as she threw herself onto him. The big guy bid goodbye to them as then went inside.

"So how are you feeling now?" Lauren said.

"I'm okay," Rick said, slowly sitting down in the couch. "Just a spasm. Damn, we'll have to go to Miami again."

Lauren laughed and sighed. "You're an idiot," she said. "You can't even walk by yourself. Oh goodness, we lost the game?"

Rick and Uncle Frazier laughed at her. "You didn't finish watching the game?" Rick said. "And didn't watch the TV?"

Lauren slapped Rick in the arm. "Of course I didn't," she said. "I was so worried."

Rick held her in his arms. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I'm fine, and I'll be fine."

"He's day-to-day," Uncle Frazier said.

"How can you be day-to-day?" Lauren said. "You can't even walk."

"That's why day-to-day," Rick said. "I may be tomorrow. I have to. The 'Big Fella' will be laughing at us."

Lauren sighed. "Uncle Frazier," she said. "Are you staying here tonight?"

Uncle Frazier thought over it briefly. "I think it's a good idea," he said. "Do you have a spare room?"

"Yeah," Lauren said, giggling. "But let me go clear out the room first. I'm not sure if I still have my baggage there."

Rick was on his phone when Lauren went back to the sitting room. "Yeah, thanks," he said. "Of course I will. Oh, and congratulations. Yeah. Hey, not this time. I'm going to kick your ass hard this time. Okay. Thanks again. Bye."

"Who is it?" Lauren said. "And milk or juice? No alcohol for both of you tonight."

Rick laughed with Uncle Frazier again. "It's Tim Fowl," Rick said.

"Tim Fowl?" Lauren said, raising an eyebrow. "What's he calling you for?"

"Encouraging me," Rick said. "And telling me he's longing to kick my ass again in the championship series."

Lauren laughed. "That's very nice of him," she said.

"I told you he is a MVP," Rick said when Lauren came back with soft drinks for them.

"Well," Lauren said. "I don't want him to be MVP. I want you to be MVP. Do you talk to him a lot?"

"Never," Rick said. "Except on the court. Well, I sent him a two-buck card when he got the MVP award."

"Rick is not the only guy who will purposely miss a shot," Uncle Frazier said. "Some do it in a different way. Tim Fowl is a knight."

"Oh," Lauren said. "No wonder he always kick your butt, Rick. You're only a jerk."

Rick laughed. "Should I put up a bet with him?" he said. "You for his wife."

Lauren laughed. "Yeah, of course," she said. "You'll call him when I kick you out of the window."

"I think I need to go to bed now," Uncle Frazier said, smiling at Lauren. "And don't do it too vigorously tonight. His hamstring still hurts."

Lauren threw a cushion at Uncle Frazier as her face turned pink. "Say it once more," she said. "And you're flying out of the window."

"What are you doing here?" Jimmy asked Lauren when she opened the door for him at Vanessa's apartment. "And what is the score?"

Lauren made a kicking gesture. "To watch the game, idiot," she said. "74-72, it's a very tight game."

"Alright," Jimmy said, dropped his bag, and went over to kiss Vanessa. "Need any drink?"

"Nah," Vanessa said as Lauren moved her snacks to the other end of the couch. "But if you don't mind, I want that raspberry yogurt."

"No," Lauren said. "That's mine. Jim, get her the kiwi."

Lauren and Vanessa looked at each other, and dashed together into the kitchen to fight for the raspberry as Jimmy laughed from behind.

"Bitch," Lauren said, laughing, as she ate her kiwi yogurt.

"Hmm, hmm," Vanessa said, giggling. "I like this taste."

"How's Rick doing?" Jimmy said when he didn't see Rick on the floor.

"He's not playing a lot today," Lauren said. "But Shaq's not either. He's in foul trouble. Peanut alone got him two fouls." She giggled.

Jimmy laughed. "I think they need to change the rule," he said. "Small guys taking advantage of big fellows. You know, sometimes I like to see the blameless and frustrated look on him when he's called for the foul as a result of Rick bumping into him. But sometimes I also feel sorry for him. I think Rick makes him take at least three fouls per game, is that right?"

"Yeah," Lauren said, laughing. "That's about right, and yeah, I feel sorry for Shaq, too. But they don't play clean either. They have been doing nasty things to Rick, so he goes on to punish their main guy."

"Oh well," Jimmy said, laughing. "This is the NBA, what can we say? Oh damn." He groaned as the Heat made a 3-pointer.

They saw Rick getting ready to check in when the Heat sank in another jump shot.

"This is another game to be determined at the buzzer," Jimmy said, after a little while.

"That's why we have time to fight for the yogurt, silly," Vanessa said, giggling. "Hey, Lauren?"