by Aria Cole
I had to be at the field by one today, but I couldn’t miss a day on the treadmill, so I’d pecked Delilah on the cheek, left her a note on the coffee pot because I knew that would be her first stop in the morning, as was watching ESPN highlights while I worked out.
Jogging on the treadmill got adrenaline coursing through my veins as I worked over the game in my head. I liked to visualize victory, imagining the plays and all the different possibilities. Just as I bumped up the incline, my phone rang in my gym bag on the floor.
I narrowed my eyes, wondering who in the hell would call this early. It wasn’t even seven a.m., but I stopped to pick it up, anyway. Maybe it was Delilah telling me to save my post-workout shower for her. I would be into that. I was into anything with Delilah.
I answered on the third ring, prepared to hear her voice, but a stranger spoke. “Cash Greenwood?”
“This is he.”
“I’m a nurse at Jacksonville General. Is Leonard Greenwood your father?”
A pit of dread formed in my stomach. “Yes.”
“There’s been an incident. The doctor would like to speak with you. Do you mind if I put him on?”
By the time I’d hung up the call five minutes later, my chest ached, I felt out of breath, and I was booking the first flight I could find to Florida.
I rubbed at the ache emanating from my chest as I rode the elevator up to my apartment. I opened the door and went right for my room where Delilah still slept soundly. With a gentle kiss, I woke her up, dreading telling her I would have to leave her.
“Delilah, baby?” She roused, smiling when she spied me. “I’ve got to go to Jacksonville. It’s my dad.”
“What?” She shot up, instantly awake. “What’s wrong?”
“Alcohol poisoning. Someone found him passed out in the front yard of his house. I’ve got to go. I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I can come with you. Just give me five minutes to throw some stuff in a bag.”
“No, Delilah, the team needs you. Play-offs start in a few days and I don’t know if I’ll be back.”
“Cash, you have to be back.” Her eyes rounded. I knew I did. I was under contract to play, unless I had an injury.
“I know. I’m going to do my best, but I’ve got to get down there and help him. And you’ve got a job to do here. Do your best for the team while I’m away. I need you here so I can take care of stuff there.”
Delilah frowned, her eyes burning into me. She wrapped me in a hug and I held her like that for long minutes, not caring that the car was probably just pulling up outside to take me to the airport.
I fucking hated leaving her. Now of all times, just when we were good, just when play-offs were starting, just when life was seeming to finally work out for me.
“Call me every night, okay?”
“I won’t be gone a minute longer than I have to,” I reassured her, kissing her slowly, trying my best to leave my imprint on her lips.
“I love you, Cash.”
My heart thundered at her words. “I love you so damn much, Delilah.”
We rested our foreheads together, sharing the last few stolen moments before we’d have to be a country apart. “Watch out for Rod for me, ‘kay? He acts tough, but he really isn’t.”
“We’ll be fine here. Go help your dad.”
I stood, wishing she was coming with me. “You’ve got the keys right? Stay here. I’ll feel better knowing you’re at my place.”
“Sure thing, boss.” She smiled, trying to lighten my mood. I grinned, pulling her in for one last long kiss. “See you soon?”
“It won’t be too long, baby. I can’t spend too many nights without you in my arms,” I said, leaving her all alone in my bedroom, all alone in my apartment, all alone while I went to deal with old baggage. All I really wanted to do was stay there with her and create happy new memories to drown out all the darkness from our pasts.
The car service pulled up outside Jacksonville General later that day. I threw my bag over my shoulder, then walked in, anxious for details on my father’s condition.
“Leonard Greenwood?” The woman behind the desk typed into her computer. “Looks like you missed him by a few hours. He checked himself out this morning.”
“What? I was just on the phone with his doctor. I thought they were keeping him.”
“Well, this doesn’t give me details, but if that’s the case, he may have left against doctor’s wishes. It’s not uncommon.”
“Christ, that old bastard,” I grit, spinning and heading back out where I’d come from, hailing the driver that was just about to pull away. “1525 Casnovia, please.”
“Change of plans?” the driver inquired with a nod.
“Something like that,” I murmured as the car took off again, headed for my childhood home. The one I hadn’t stepped inside of in over a year.
So much for leaving the past in the past. I was about to confront it head-on, and I had no idea what I might find.
“You need me to hang around?” the driver asked a few minutes later as he pulled up to the curb of my father’s house. I looked at the ill-maintained lawn, weeds growing everywhere, my father's old Ford parked in the driveway.
“Nah, thanks, though.” I handed him an extra tip before getting out, my feet heavy with dread. This place felt oppressive. I’d felt it as a kid, and it still weighed on me now.
My father had pretty much locked himself up in that place after my mom passed, and if I had to guess, I’d bet he checked himself out of the hospital to go have a drink.
I knocked once on the front door, hoping for a quick resolution so I could get on the next plane back home. After all, I had a girl and play-offs to think about.
“What?” my father’s haggard voice called as the door swung open. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“You can turn right around the way you came from. Go back to that fancy life you got and mind your own business. Thought I told the hospital not to call.”
“You were unconscious, Dad. They had to call someone.”
“I'm fine.” He shifted his arm, and I noticed for the first time the small amber bottle. He’d stopped at the liquor store on the way home. Not even noon and he was already wasted.
“I’m just here to help. Anything you need, you know I’ll do what I can.”
“Don’t want your help.”
“Dad—”
“Listen, boy, I don’t know what brought you all the way down here, but I sure as hell know it wasn’t me, considering you ain’t been down here in a year.”
“You can’t even be bothered to pick up the phone!” I cried, feeling like I was twelve and we were having a row again. This was exactly why I hadn’t come back. “I knew it was gonna be like this.”
“What? You expect me to be grateful you came to play the hero, sit by my bedside and feed me soup?” My father shook his head. “You know things ain’t been normal between us since your momma died. I made peace with it a long time ago. Can’t turn back time, son.”
“I never asked you for anything, you know. Not a damn thing,” I grit between my teeth.
“Like hell you didn’t!”
“Like what?” I challenged him as his hazy eyes swam back at me.
“You asked for more than I could give.” He shook his head.
“Love? A father? That’s all I recall ever wanting from you.”
My father shook his head, rubbing at his forehead wearily, then swiped the keys from the counter and pushed past me onto the porch.
“Where ya going? What do you need? I’ll go to the store for you.”
“Not going to the store. Get out of my way.”
I thought fast and pulled the keys from his hands, sending him spinning before he righted himself on the porch and leveled me with his gaze. “Give me my keys back, boy.”
“I can’t. You’ve got no business driving. You almost killed yourself last night, and you may do it again if you get into that truck.”<
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“Bullshit! What do you know? You’re never here, bailed on me the first chance you got.”
The old man swiped the keys from my hands, shoving me into a porch beam as he did. I shook my head, following him when he reached his truck. I caught the door just as he was about to slam it, wrenching it open and doing my best to wrangle the keys from him. The old man slammed the door on my hand instead.
“Fuck!” I swore, feeling the muscles in my hand swell instantly. My catching hand. Jesus Christ this was bad, and he was so wasted he didn’t even register that he’d done it. “Don’t fucking do it, old man.” I pulled the door open just as the truck roared to life. My father’s eyes held mine for a long moment before he stomped on the clutch and threw the shifter into gear, backing out and leveling me with the driver side door as he did.
My head slammed against the concrete, and then everything faded to black.
15
Delilah
The first night Cash didn’t call, I knew something was wrong.
The next morning, I woke up terrified. I had a feeling down deep inside that things in Jacksonville had gone horribly wrong, and it drove me insane waiting to hear from him. I walked the hallways with him on my mind, flicked through old baseball replays to try to distract myself, even did my best to keep my head in the statistics and try to make some projections, but it felt odd having Cash gone.
It just wasn’t like him not to call. I hadn’t wanted to be that girl that rings up her guy’s phone in the middle of the night just to make sure the damn phone was working, but I really wanted to hear from him. I really wanted to hear the smooth buttery tone of his voice. I wanted to hear that deep chuckle that radiated straight between my legs.
I wanted him to tell me not to worry, because that was something else I wasn’t good at—not worrying. That’s why I had a head for numbers. They were solid, no variables, work hard, see immediate results. It was comforting, but having Cash gone threw me off my game.
It was also driving Coach insane that he was gone. The entire team relied on Cash to be their leader, like a team captain, he guided the team. Everyone, especially Rod, was lost without him.
By the time the sun set on the evening of his second night gone, and after a few unanswered phone calls, I was on my laptop booking a flight to Jacksonville. I’d managed to get my hands on the player records and had scrounged up an old address that may have been his father’s, or so I hoped, before I boarded my flight.
Now, immediately upon arrival, I was taxiing down the runway thinking I had to do what I could to get Cash safe and home and ready for the play-offs. I called the number listed in his emergency file, hoping his father would pick up, or that someone would tell me what was going on, but after six rings I was convinced no one was home and I was just wasting my time even being down here.
As I was about to hang up, the phone picked up and I heard a grunt.
“Uh, hello? Len Greenwood?”
“Who is it?”
“My name is Delilah. I’m a friend of your son’s. I’ve been trying to get a hold of him.”
“He’s in the hospital.” The phone went dead.
Hospital.
The hospital?
I choked on my sob, my stomach rolling with cold fear.
“We have to go to the hospital.” Tears rained down my cheeks as the taxi driver nodded, changing lanes and turning to go back the way we’d come.
“Everything all right, ma’am?”
“No, no, I was a fool to let him go alone. Maybe I could have helped, and now he’s in the hospital and no one even knew!” I babbled on, my heart aching with every word.
By the time I looked up a minute later, we were pulling up to the hospital entrance, and I was tossing twenties at the driver as I ran into the hospital.
“Cash Greenwood. Please tell me Cash Greenwood is here.”
“Oh, Cash?” The first floor receptionist’s smile brightened. “He’s on the third floor. Let me just get his room number…” Her voice faded behind me as I punched the button on the elevator, cursing it for taking so long.
I waited, twisting my hands together as the elevator rose, bursting through the doors once it finally come to a stop on the third floor. Without even thinking to stop and ask at the nurse's station, I sped down the hallway, looking in every room, glancing at the dry-erase boards with patients’ names on them. A few giggles came from down the hallway as a nurse exited a room. That was probably Cash’s room. Only he could send grown women into a tittering teen-girl mess.
“Cash?” I ducked in, sighing when my eyes landed on him. He was lying back in bed, his hand wrapped in white gauze, a boot on his ankle. “Oh my God, what happened?”
“Delilah?” Cash asked, eyes wide as if he didn’t believe I was really there. “Jesus, the hospital has been trying to call you ever since I woke up, but there was no answer.”
“I was on a plane. I saw the missed calls, but didn’t recognize them. And woke up? What do you mean woke up? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just a sprained wrist, and a pretty bad bone bruise on my ankle. And I have a bump on my head.”
“God, what did you do?” I went to the bed, wrapping him in my arms and sobbing.
“My dad…” Cash’s voice was laced with pain. “My dad hit me with his truck. I was trying to stop him from leaving. He was drunk,”
“Oh God, Cash. I knew I should have come. How are you feeling? When can you leave? And what about play-offs?”
“I’m gonna miss a few games, but the doctor thinks I might be able to play in two weeks. I’m hoping, anyway.”
“Two to four I said. Are you the lovely Delilah he’s been going on about?”
I turned to find a doctor in the room. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Glad you’re here. He has been out of his mind asking for you. We’re releasing him soon, I know he wants to hop on a plane and get back, but he’s going to need your help.”
“Anything, just tell me what to do.”
“I’ll have the nurse go over his discharge papers with you, but it was a near miss. He hit his head. We were worried about a concussion for a while there, but he’s out of the danger zone.”
I listened as the doctor began talking to Cash, warnings about resting a lot the next few weeks. I’d almost lost him before we’d even had a chance to start; we’d nearly lost it all.
“Mr. Greenwood?” A nurse popped her head in, interrupting my thoughts. “You’ve got a guest. Okay if I let him in?” I shrank from her arched eyebrow. “You’re a popular man, Mr. Greenwood.”
“Sure, thanks, Mrs. McCarty.” Cash’s eyes grew round.
“Thanks for seeing me, son.” I turned to find the old man whose voice I recognized from the phone call.
“You landed me here, I’ve got nothing to say to you.” Cash’s gaze was hard, frightening.
“Well, I’ve got a few things to say to you. I resented you, Cash. When you left, lived all those big dreams you had, I didn’t handle it well.”
I shrank back against the wall, wishing I could disappear, wondering if I should interrupt them to excuse myself. This was a conversation that needed to happen, I just didn’t want to witness it.
“I haven’t been a father to you.” Cash’s dad advanced farther into the room, his body slow and hunched with age and drink. He reeked of alcohol—he really was a barely functioning alcoholic. “I’m real sorry I couldn’t keep it together after your mom was gone. I think she was the glue our family needed, and without her…I just let you go, son.” I heard the tears echo in the old man’s throat when he finally reached the bed. “I’m real sorry, Cash. I thought by staying away I was keeping you safe. I can’t hurt you if I’m not around you.”
Cash’s eyes roamed up and down the old man’s face, pain slicing his features. His eyes looked like those of a little lost boy who’d been hurt one too many times.
“I’m gonna stop drinking, son. I’m done.” Cash’s father paused, then turned and caught my eye.
“I see the love for you in this woman’s face, you know I’ve lived my whole life never realizing just what it was that made life worth living.” He nodded, then turned back to his son. “It’s love, boy. Love for your family and the love of a good woman.”
Cash’s fingers were twitching against the white sheet as he lay battered in the hospital bed, hit by the very man who was supposed to spend his life protecting him. I didn’t know if Cage would have the courage to forgive him and move on, and I wouldn’t judge him if he didn't, but I knew his empathy was deep.
“I’m checking into the detox facility they have downstairs. Nurse McCarty here was telling me all about it.” The old man nodded at the nurse who had reappeared at the door behind him.
“Told him we can get him in tonight,” Mrs. McCarty confirmed.
“I’m not asking for miracles, son. But I know I’ve done wrong by you, and I want to start doing right.”
My heart almost shattered when I saw Cash’s face turn up in the smallest of smiles. “That’s all I want, Dad. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I love you, boy.” Cash’s dad leaned down, wrapping Cash in a weak hug and patting his back. I watched as Cash’s eyes swam with some sense of emotional healing. He’d been waiting his whole adult life for this moment, and he deserved it.
I backed away, preparing to give them some privacy, but Cash stopped me. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Delilah.”
“Hi.” I smiled, feeling the heat of being caught burn up my cheeks.
“Hope you’re gonna put a ring on that, son.”
My mouth dropped open, and Cash started chuckling. “Have plans to, sir.”
“After baseball season?”
“Before.”
“Wait a minute!” I shrieked. “You’re gonna ask me to marry you before the end of this season?”