by Ginger Scott
I make it three steps into the locker room before I insist I get all of the details.
“What the hell’s going on? Does Coach know you pulled me?”
Jenkins’s hands are on my biceps, almost like he’s holding me back from a fight. His eyes are searching mine, trying to lock on.
“Gary’s telling him now. Reed, listen. I need you to listen.”
I can hear my own breath flaring my nostrils, coming out in angry, panicked streams. My cheeks puff out a few times and I feel dizzy. I turn to the bench near us and move to sit, holding my knees with a tight grip and staring at the giant O pattern on the carpet.
“Reed, Jason suffered a major heart attack. Someone found him beside his car in the parking lot...” More words leave his mouth. I don’t hear them. I’m instantly sixteen, waking up in the back of Nolan’s car with my world rocked.
Reed, seventeen years old
My head is pounding. My mouth is dry. I think maybe at some point I threw up, though I don’t remember doing that. I remember Nolan.
Shit. Nolan!
I crack a lid and slide my hand along the velvety cushion that feels only faintly familiar. There’s a beam of sun filtering in through something in front of me. I let my hand explore while I try to force my left eye to open completely. Shapes start to make sense, a car seat head rest—the sunlight glinting off the chrome in-between. Damn, that’s bright!
“Ugh,” I growl into what I have figured out to be a backseat. I pull both of my arms into my body, pressing my palms flat under my face and pushing up until I can sit. That small movement feels like death.
I drank last night. I drank a lot. And Nolan…shit…this is her car.
She came.
Did I call her? I think I called her.
I was so jealous last night…angry. I still am. That’s the only feeling I’m sure of right now. I hate the thought of Nolan being into anyone else. I hate this Tyler guy she’s dating. He’s not right for her, which…gah! Like I am. Look at me. I woke up in the back of her car, and I’m hungover.
Why would she deal with me like this? I must have said something awful to get her to come to the party. I bet I was an ass.
I push my fists into my temples and smack my lips, both wanting and never wanting water. I raise myself enough to catch my wild hair in the reflection of the rearview mirror. My eyes refocus on the hospital outside the window. I blink a few times, willing my memory to replay anything that might give me a clue.
EMERGENCY ROOM
I swallow, splices flashing in my mind. I remember the stairs. I remember Nolan being there. I…I told her I loved her. And then my dad.
“Dad!” I feel a jolt to my heart, my limbs suddenly getting enough life to pull myself from the car—Nolan’s car. I find a sweatshirt on the floor before I shut the door, so I slip it over my head and attempt to hide the wrinkled clothes underneath while I untangle my hair with my fingers.
Nolan drove me here. She took care of my dad. I’m at the hospital…where he is.
I shuffle my feet forward and through the sliding doors at the front entrance and look for my next clue—something familiar. Her brown eyes are all I need, and they’re waiting for me.
She’s sitting next to her parents. I tilt my head trying to piece together how they’re all here and I’m not. She untangles her legs and jogs over to me, reaching for my hands. The way they look together is so familiar and right, and it’s so scary. She’s holding my hands with love and sympathy. I feel her nerves in her touch.
I can’t quit staring at them, but my confusion craves more—I need to know. My mouth open, a question hanging on my lips without the right words to frame it, I look up and meet her waiting eyes.
“Reed, listen to me. Your dad had a heart attack last night. They are performing surgery, but we should hear something very soon.”
She stops there, waiting for me to digest and not knowing that my insides are literally tumbling in on themselves. My dad is everything!
My eyes start to sting and that brief feeling hits my chest, telling me I should push back, keep myself from crumbling, but her hands are on mine, and she’s here—and she took care of my dad. She’s taking care of me. She brought me here. My world is in that room—under a knife.
I step into her, and she knows I need her. Her arms wrap me up and her hands hold my head tightly against her shoulder. I hide myself under the shadow of her long hair and I cry so hard I think I may frighten people coming in. I can’t stop, though. I have never hurt like this. I feel like a failure. I wasn’t there. I was fucking drunk.
She took care of me. Of him.
I love her…so, so much.
Her hand moves along my back and I try to right my breathing with her touch, but I keep slipping back into a wrecked version of myself.
“He’s going to be okay, Reed. I called nine-one-one. They came in time. He’s going to be okay,” she says.
“Reed, son. Come sit with us. We should hear something soon.” I recognize her dad’s voice, but I’m too ashamed to look at him.
Her hand finds mine as she slips from my arms, and her fingers wrap mine up as she leads me to the chairs where her parents are. She moves a few seats down to a couch that looks cold and lonely, almost a hard-plastic material that’s a blue from the seventies. This is the kind of place where people get horrible news. It’s all I can think until she pulls my body toward hers and gathers me up in her arms. I fall into her lap and let her soothe me. I need it, and she knows I do. She knows me—all of me. She knows my worst, and she’s seeing my worst fear.
My dad might die. He’s all I have.
Him, and this girl who I don’t deserve.
This girl who is taking care of me.
Present Day
“Heart problems run in the family,” I say, slipping back into the conversation. I must have missed a question or not have said the right thing because Jenkins is looking at me oddly. Chaplain Cruz is here now, and I realize he was speaking and I interrupted him.
“I’m sorry. That thought just flew into my head. I…I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do,” I ramble.
“It’s okay, Reed. Who can I call for you? Brad from the front office has a car ready. He’ll take you to Samaritan, where Jason is. It’s important that you take this one step at a time…”
One play at a time.
I close my eyes as those two thoughts intertwine. Funny how that rule runs my life.
“Right, well…he has a fiancé. I should call her, though. My dad will want to know. And Nolan. I just…I don’t know what to do.”
“Call your wife,” Chaplain Cruz interrupts. My eyes flash to his, and his are so certain that I finally get a full breath.
“Call your wife, Reed. Always call your wife,” he smiles.
I pull my lips in tight and take my bag of things that Jenkins has pulled together for me. I fish inside for my phone, my fingers fumbling it before I can get a look at my screen where I see three missed messages from Nolan.
She wrote me back. She’s okay.
A tear starts to slide down my cheek, and another one follows so fast I can’t stop them. I lean forward and cover my face, feeling the force of my emotions in one heavy rush.
“I’m sorry. I need a minute,” I say, shuddering with sobs and an overwhelmed feeling that has me grounded and unable to move. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, Reed,” Chaplain Cruz says, sitting next to me and putting his arm around my body, holding me close to keep me present. I want to drift away, but I can’t. I have to call my wife. I have to call Jason’s fiancé. I have to find my brother. I have to pray.
I let it all out hard for about five minutes, and like a performer, I suck it in and run my arm over my eyes a few times trying to erase the evidence that I felt something so awful. I can’t completely, and when guys start to come in and get immediately directed away from me, I feel the weight of it all starting to crush me again.
My thumb dials feverishly as the chapl
ain escorts me to Coach’s office, and he closes the door as soon as we get inside. I pace, ignoring his request for me to sit. I walk from one corner to the other, counting the rings until Nolan picks up, her voice confused because I’m sure the game is on there. This is going to freak her out, and I can’t have that.
“Reed?”
“I’m fine. It’s okay, Noles. I’m fine.” I hammer her with those thoughts, but I’m so manic that the effect is the opposite.
“What’s wrong?” There are hints of hysteria in her tone.
“Noles, it’s Jason. He…he had a massive heart attack. I’m going there now. It’s fine…he’ll be fine. I have to tell Dad. And I need to tell Sarah, but it’s fine. He’ll be fine…”
I’m not making sense, but Nolan gets the message, and then she takes over the ship.
“Reed, Reed…listen to me…”
I breathe out hard and lean into the wall, resting my forehead on the cool plaster while I look down at my feet. I want to kick a hole through this wall.
“Yeah…” I exhale.
“I’ll tell everyone. It’s going to be fine. Call me when you get there, and I’ll keep everyone here informed. Sarah’s here, Reed. I’ll take care of it all. Just…is someone with you?”
I shudder with a cry again, but my eyes are just raw and dry.
“Yeah, Jenk is here. And the chaplain. A guy from the front office is driving me. I’m good, I’m good.”
I’m nowhere near good. She knows. As if she’s trying to force me to follow her, she takes in a long deep breath. I can’t help but do the same, and my dizziness lifts just enough to turn to look at the coaches all now standing in my office with sympathy and genuine worry etched into their frowns and sagging eyes.
“Okay, you need to call me when you get there. Every time you find out more. Every time you just need to call me. I’m plugged in, and I’m not leaving this phone. I got you, baby. I got you…”
My eyes flutter closed and I pinch at the bridge of my nose.
“Right. Okay. I’m going.”
“I love you, Reed.”
I vibrate at her words, a deep tickle at my chest.
“God, I love you, baby.”
I end the call after a few seconds because if I don’t we’ll just stand here listening to our quiet lines. She would never hang up first—not now.
“I’m ready,” I lie, meeting Coach Timms’s eyes. He nods once, and the sourness only gets deeper as I get closer. His hand grabs mine before I can get through the door. I pause my steps just long enough to squeeze him back so hard that my knuckles turn red.
One play at a time.
Chapter Thirty
Nolan
I’m not showing yet. My jeans will barely zip, but that’s what hair ties are for, right? I need bigger hair ties because I’m gonna need to stretch this button a lot more pretty soon.
The trip here was brutal. Everyone had to come. Buck was coming no matter what, which I expected, and Sarah had to be here. I guess I could have stayed home, but I wanted to be here for Reed. And Peyton and Rose didn’t want to be left behind, plus I really needed Rose’s help with Buck. Why is it that a family emergency turns into a vacation?
I’m not sure this is what Reed expected, but it’s what Buck insisted on—a family invasion.
It’s just after midnight, and my feet are killing me. I drove the rental van all the way to the hospital, and there were times I only could keep one eye open. It’s a miracle I didn’t turn all of us into emergency-room patients by driving off the road.
Reed’s waiting for us at the entrance as I pull up. He comes to my door, opening it and burying his head in my lap. He’s so lost and frightened. I can tell he never showered from the game, and he’s wearing borrowed clothes from the hospital. The media is camped out just a few car-lengths away, and photographers are catching all of this—seeing him hurt. I hate that. I’m just grateful that the hospital won’t let them get closer. And at least it’s just photos. Nobody’s shouting questions. It would be just like them to ask him how he’s coping, then start drilling him about his contract.
“Reed, is he out yet?” Sarah’s body is hanging over mine from the seat behind me. I lift Reed’s head and our tired eyes meet.
Jason went into emergency surgery almost instantly for a massive blockage in his heart. He’s fitter than most, but a genetic predisposition to blockage really ramps up the effects of steak dinners and beer, I guess. That’s how the doctor explained it. He was still in when our flight took off.
“The doctor said it went well. We can see him in a few hours. Maybe you should rest, Sar…”
“I’m not leaving.” My friend’s insistence is met with understanding eyes. Reed nods.
“I know,” he says, his eyes somehow sagging even more.
He’s worried. I can tell there are things he isn’t saying because of Sarah, but I don’t want him carrying it all on his own.
“Let me drive. I’ll park and meet you inside,” Reed says, taking my hand and helping me from the driver’s seat.
“I’m not letting you walk back up here alone,” I say.
He gives me a small nod.
“They found a private waiting room for us on Jason’s floor. The nurse at the desk knows who you all are, so just tell her,” he says to Sarah as she slips out first. She’s shivering with fear, and without pause Reed takes her into his arms and holds her tight. He doesn’t say anything or make any promises. He just knows she needs it right now. He needs it too.
I help Rose and Peyton with Buck’s chair and Reed helps his father get out of the van, stopping before he jogs back to the driver’s side to hug his daughter. He kisses her head as if she’s been missing and was just found.
I climb in to the passenger seat and we circle around to the garage and begin weaving for open spots.
“Hospital feels busy for such an odd hour,” I say through a yawn.
“You should get to the rental, get some sleep. Babe, this isn’t good for you,” he says, glancing my way and grabbing my hand. He doesn’t let go, and I don’t let him. It feels desperate, this meeting.
Reed finds a spot on the third floor, and before I’m even able to open my door, he’s rushed around to the passenger side to open it for me.
“I just need to hold you for a little while more,” he says, pulling me to him. My feet slide to the ground and I fall into his arms just like I did when we were kids. When we went through this with his dad.
“He’s gonna be okay.” I know he is. Jason’s too young—too stubborn.
“Your dad is insisting Jason sees one of the U of A doctors down in Tucson when he gets home,” I chuckle, feeling Reed shake with a laugh against me. Buck is of the opinion that any doctor that didn’t graduate from U of A is simply pretending.
“Jason’s gonna be out of commission for a while.” Reed pulls away but keeps my hand. We shut the passenger door and lock the van to begin the long trek inside.
“How’s Sarah?” he asks.
I shake my head. Sarah’s never really faced something like this. She’s been through it with me, but that’s about it. Her family is small and tight, and healthy.
“I think she’s better now that she’s here. She felt helpless,” I say, feeling the sting of that word. That’s how I feel sometimes with Reed, when he’s hurt, or when my imagination just thinks he will be.
“Mmm,” Reed hums with a nod. He feels the sting, too.
We’ve both felt helpless at times.
Our brief alone time ends the moment we step back inside. Reed shifts into caregiver mode for everyone. I’ve never seen him like this, almost manic about making sure everyone’s all right—including his brother. It’s like he’s trying to hold the entire world together all by himself. Whenever I try to help, he just starts focusing on me, and our baby—something we haven’t told anyone else in this room about yet, and that’s on me. I’ve been too nervous. I don’t want all of the questions that come with it.
“Do they kn
ow if you’re high risk?”
“Aren’t you a little old?”
“What does this mean for Reed’s career?”
Reed’s career. Not mine.
I breathe in and hold it in my chest, exhaling all of the thoughts as I sink into the stiff waiting-room chair and lean my head in a miserable crick to get a few minutes of sleep.
I feel his breath first, against my cheek and neck. It’s warm, and it smells like cinnamon. Reed has probably chewed through an entire pack tonight.
“Mmm, I just dozed off.” I blink my eyes open wide and shift in the chair to focus my vision on him. Sun is spilling through the blinds to my left and there’s a buzz of people out in the hallway. Reed and I are all alone. He’s smiling.
“You were so tired. You slept for four hours,” he says with a breathy laugh.
I stretch out my arms and notice that somewhere along the way I unbuttoned my jeans from the makeshift hair-tie device. My mouth is dry, and I know any minute I’m going to be sick. Happens like clockwork every morning right about…now…
I push past Reed and rush to the bathroom, flinging open a stall door only to throw up what little I ate the night before. Reed’s hand is on my back a second later, his other hand gathering my hair away from my face.
“You probably shouldn’t be in the ladies’ room,” I say, shaking a little from sudden weakness. Reed helps me up from my knees and leads me to the sink.
“I’m pretty sure they get a lot of pregnant ladies in this place, and I think they’d understand,” he says, wetting a paper towel and running it along my lips. His touch is so gentle and sweet. For the first time this morning, I realize he’s happy. The worry isn’t there.
“Jason’s okay,” I say through a stretched smile.
Reed nods.
“He’d love to see you,” he says, his head falling to the side.
My body tingles with happiness—for Reed, for Sarah…for all of us.
“Yes! Where? Do I look okay? Do I smell?” I tuck my nose to my shoulder and sniff. Reed lifts my chin with a laugh.