“Won’t be long before she’s keeping you up all night, like mine.” He gives an exhausted smile.
Sam laughs and shakes his hand. “How are you doing today, Terrance?”
“Not as good as you.” He smiles and puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I see you got a little extra pep in your step I haven’t seen in a while. What are you up to?” he asks, eyeing us suspiciously.
Sam laughs and tells him, “We’re looking to buy a house.”
Terrance drops his head and grabs his chest. “Don’t tell me that, Sam. Don’t tell me the champ’s leaving the building.”
“Not for a while probably. We just want to get a head start before the baby gets here.”
“Well, I sure will be sorry to see you go.”
“Thanks, Terrance.”
“You need me to get the car for you?”
“No, we’re going to take a walk and get some lunch first.”
“Okay. Well, let me get the door.” He pulls the heavy glass door open and we walk outside.
“See you later, Terrance,” I say as we step out of the shade of the building into the sunshine.
I throw on my Ray-Bans and Sam does the same. He takes my hand and I lean in and whisper, “We totally look like a celebrity couple.”
“Lucy, we are a celebrity couple.”
I laugh quietly and say, “You are a celebrity. I’m not. Let’s get that straight.”
“Well, technically, I’m not either. I’m an athlete. It’s not quite the same thing.”
“Close enough,” I say, letting him lead me down the sidewalk.
I look up at the bright sun that’s shining in the blue sky, warming my exposed shoulders, and reflecting off the mirrored buildings that line the street.
Sam tugs my hand and pulls me close, and I see a homeless man approaching us. His shirt is tattered and dirty, and his pants, which are hanging off his hips, are torn at the knees. He mumbles something and scratches his long wiry beard.
Sam stops and stands in front of me. “How ya doing?” he asks the man, reaching for his wallet. He pulls a few bills out of it and hands them to him. “Make sure you get a good dinner tonight, okay?”
“God bless you,” the man mumbles, taking the money in his blackened hand. “God bless you.”
Sam pulls me beside him again and we continue down the sidewalk.
“Sam, that was really sweet. How much money did you give him?”
“I don’t know, eighty bucks.”
I scrunch up my face. “Eighty bucks?”
“Now he can eat for the rest of the week.”
I wrap my hand around his arm and look up at him. “You’re a good man, Sam Cole.”
“Hey!” Someone calls from behind us. “Champ! Hey, champ!”
Sam turns around and a man reaches for his hand with a big smile on his face. “What’s up?” Sam says, shaking his hand.
“I was at the fight at the Garden last year. I saw you knock out Mario Sanchez.”
I have to remind myself that I wasn’t the only one there that night.
“I had shit seats, but that was one of best fights I’ve ever been to. You’re a fucking beast.”
Sam takes my hand again. “Thanks, man.”
We turn around and start walking again, but the guy reaches for Sam’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Sam says, shrugging him off. He lets go of my hand and stands in front of me. “You don’t need to put your hands on me, man.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up and looks at me. “That’s your girl?”
Sam’s shoulders tense and my lungs begin to work a little harder. “Yeah, that’s my girl.”
“That’s your kid in there?” he asks, looking at my stomach, and I move closer to Sam.
“Yeah, that’s my kid, so how about you back up a little, all right?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I was just wondering if I could get a picture with you, that’s all. I’m a huge fan.”
Sam’s shoulders relax and so do mine. “Yeah, all right.” Sam nods and watches him pull his phone out of his pocket.
“I’ll take it,” I offer, but Sam gives me a firm look. “It’s fine,” I say, taking the phone from him. Sam stands next to him and holds his fist up and the guy does the same. “Smile,” I say, but neither of them do. I take the picture. “Okay.” I hand the phone back to him.
“How about one more of the two of you?” he says, holding his phone up to take a picture.
“Nah, man.” Sam pushes his phone down. “You got your picture.”
“Damn. Take it easy,” he says, looking at his phone.
“Your phone’s fine, I just don’t want you taking pictures of my girl.”
I reach for Sam’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.” I pull him away and we start to walk down the sidewalk again.
“It’s not like I asked her to take her top off,” the guy says under his breath, and I close my eyes.
I squeeze Sam’s hand, but it does little to stop him. He turns around and closes the space between them. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Sam, stop it,” I say, pulling on his shirt. “Let’s just go.”
He ignores me and asks again, “What did you say?”
The man stares at Sam, seemingly regretting his words. “Nothing, man. I didn’t say anything.”
“Why don’t you go ahead and delete that picture.”
“Oh, come on, champ. Don’t be like that.”
“You want me to do it for you?”
“No,” I say, reaching for Sam’s arm. “He doesn’t.” I give Sam a pleading look. “Let him keep his picture. I’m sure he’s very sorry. Right?” I give the guy a sharp look.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“Come on.” I pull Sam away and take his hand again. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.”
I glance over my shoulder as we walk away, and I see the man tapping away on his phone. I’d love to know what he’s writing, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it soon enough. I’m just glad Sam is retiring soon. Hopefully then, the attention from the media and rude fans will die down.
* * *
“So, what do you think?” our realtor, Kaitlyn, asks in her bubbly southern accent as we exit the second mansion she’s shown us this afternoon.
“Honestly, I think it’s too big,” I say to Sam. “I don’t know if I could be comfortable in that much space. How would we even keep it clean?”
“You would hire a maid, of course,” Kaitlyn says, looking at her phone. “One sec.” She holds up a pink acrylic fingernail and answers a call.
“Sam, could we maybe try to find something a little smaller? And a little less, I don’t know…shiny?” I glance up at the fancy glass doors and bronze fixtures.
“Lucy, this house is beautiful. It’s got everything we need. Room for a gym, a studio for you. And look at this view.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and we look out over the rolling green lawn that’s speckled with tall, leafy green trees that cast shadows on the driveway that winds through them all the way to the front gate. “I know it’s big, but isn’t that what we want? Something we can grow into?”