Magic Minutes (The Time Series Book 2)

by Jennifer Millikin

  She glances at me. “Kind of,” she admits.

  She’s probably right. Maybe I should look at what I still have, instead of what I think I might lose.

  I go to the table and sit down, feeling like an ass because I can’t help her set the table or finish the food. She brings her laptop to the table, and we go through flights and hotels while we eat.

  Focusing on the surgery should help take my mind from Ember. But it doesn’t. I’m nodding and giving input on dates and times and car rentals, but I’m only halfway in the conversation.

  When Miranda leaves, I lay down in bed and try not to think about what a red-haired female is doing across the country, or who she’s doing it with.

  “Do we know where the doctor’s office is, Miranda?” I fold myself into the rented SUV, ass first, then use my hands to lift my leg into the car. We landed in Phoenix last night, and my pre-op appointment is this morning.

  “Yep.” Miranda places my crutches in the trunk, then climbs into the driver’s seat and brings up the address on her phone.

  We crawl along with morning traffic. I grab my phone from my cup holder and find some music. “Why are we staying so far from his office?” My voice is irritable and petulant. I’m in a bad mood. The team is playing a match today, and I won’t be there. It’s my first miss in two years.

  Miranda casts a cool glance my direction. “Because it’s close to the hospital where the surgery will be performed.”

  “Sorry,” I mutter.

  “It’s okay, Noah. I know this all must suck.”

  We arrive at a big medical center. Miranda hops out and goes to look through the directory, then gets back in the car and finds a spot on the other side of the place.

  “Good thing I looked,” she says, getting out and retrieving my crutches from the back. “I don’t think a stroll is what you want this morning.”

  “Thanks.” I work to keep my voice light. She’s right. I don’t want a stroll. I want a sprint. I want high-knees. I want my lungs to burn with exertion.

  Miranda waits for me to get out of the way, then closes the door.

  We make our way to suite twelve, to a door that reads Dr. Isaac Cordova in block letters, with the words Valley Orthopedic and a phone number below it. The eyes of the person at the front desk sparkle in recognition.

  After my x-rays are finished the technician asks me for an autograph for her son. She thanks me profusely and drops me off in the exam room. Miranda smirks when the door closes, because she knows I get a little embarrassed. I’ve never become used to signing autographs.

  Dr. Cordova comes in right away. I’m surprised by how young he is. Maybe I’m used to Dr. Clafin, so I was expecting someone older. He extends a hand to me and smiles wide.

  We chat for a minute, until he confesses he watched the match where I sustained my injury, and knew right away how bad it was.

  “I told my wife it was your ACL. You were going one way, the guy was going another. Opposing forces like that? No chance.” He grimaces. “He deserved that red card.”

  “Yeah, I’ve had better days.” I shrug.

  I’d really like to tell Dr. Cordova exactly how I feel about the situation, but I have to be careful what I say. The team spokesperson already lectured me on how to present myself when asked about what happened. Everyone has a phone, he’d warned, and you don’t want to be caught on record saying something bad.

  “Well, let’s get to it.” Isaac completes the exam, talks to me about my x-rays, and we iron out the details for the surgery. Miranda takes notes, which is good because there’s little chance I’ll remember everything.

  We’re about to leave when I throw one more question at the doctor. “Do you have kids?”

  He beams. “Yep. My daughter is seven, and we have a boy due in three months.”

  “Congratulations. That’s great.” I pause, feeling stupid, but forge ahead. “I’ve spent my whole life on soccer. I never thought about much aside from that, and suddenly the possibility of having a real life exists. House, wife, kids, the whole nine yards. Is it as incredible as it looks?”

  My brother is the only other person I know who has a normal life, but he doesn’t have a demanding job the way Dr. Cordova does. I guess that’s why I’m asking him. Between my teammates and brother, my sample size sucks.

  I make it a point not to look at Miranda. Admitting all of this makes me feel weak.

  Dr. Cordova nods. “It’s even better than it looks, I promise. Things happen the way they’re supposed to. I know it sounds trite, but it’s true. Although you shouldn’t count yourself out. I’m going to do my best to get you back on that field. Maybe I’ll invoke some black magic, and give you some kind of super scoring power.” He laughs. “Sorry, my daughter is into superheroes right now.”

  He walks us out and tells me he’ll see me tomorrow.

  It’s a silent drive back to the hotel. My mind is flooded with thoughts.

  This ACL tear doesn’t mean the kiss of death for my career, but it could be the beginning of it. Every missed play, errant goal, any mistake made will be accompanied by someone wondering if I’ve lost my edge.

  What if I’d chosen differently, two years ago? Let the call from the Atlanta recruiter go to voicemail and never returned it?

  Like Dr. Cordova, I could have a family. A wife, maybe even a kid, and a career that won’t end just because I’m human and breakable.

  I could’ve chosen Ember.

  And that’s when the truth smacks me right in my face.

  I turned down lifelong magic to chase an ephemeral dream.

  27

  Noah

  “Is there anything else I can get you, Noah?”

  Miranda hovers near the door of my hotel room. She looks tired. Her hair is tied messily on the top of her head and she’s wearing sweats. She always wears black slacks and button-up shirts, but on this trip, she’s let loose a little. Last night we went out to a restaurant, and she had two glasses of wine. I had nothing to drink, since I’m still on painkillers. She giggled a few times and told me she’s thinking about going back to school for her Masters degree. This morning she apologized. I don’t think she wanted me to know about going back to school.

  I hate the idea of losing Miranda. She’s intuitive, trustworthy, and intelligent. I told her I would make it work, that she could go to school and still work for me. Assuming there’s even a reason to work for me anymore.

  Miranda waits for my response. “I’m good. Thanks for everything. Getting my parents out here and all that.” I hadn’t expected them to come, but they arrived the morning of my surgery. It was good to have them, but three days with my parents hovering over me was enough. My mom was oddly nurturing. Maybe the arrival of her first grandson smoothed out her edges.

  “Wild horses couldn’t have kept your mother away.” Miranda chuckles. I wonder if my mom gave her a hard time. It’s safe to assume she did. “I’m going to pack everything up in the morning. Flight’s at two.”

  “Sounds good.” I nod. I’ve had enough recovery time in this hotel room. It’s nice, but I want my own bed. My own stuff.

  Miranda opens the door and backs up until she’s standing in the dimly lit hallway. “Let me know if you need anything tonight.”

  I wave at her from my bed. A mountain of pillows prop me up, and additional pillows keeps my leg elevated. I might have all the extra pillows in the hotel. White bandages hide my knee and the incision.

  The TV is on low, playing some sitcom re-run I’m seeing but not really watching, when my phone rings. It’s just out of my reach on the nightstand. Annoyance flares. Why didn’t I ask Miranda to hand it to me before she left? Normally I’d let the phone call go, but something tells me I should answer it.

  Stretching, scooting, and being mindful of my leg, I get my fingertips on the end of the phone, walking them forward until its firmly in my palm. It’s on the fifth ring and I know soon it will go to voicemail.

  Flipping it over, I look at the name flash
ing on the screen. My stomach flops.

  “Hello?” I answer quickly. For weeks I’ve been fighting the urge to call Ember again, but here she is calling me.

  “Noah?”

  My excitement fades. It’s a man’s voice.

  “Yes?” Then I think about why someone would be calling me from Ember’s phone, and fear cascades through me.

  “Is Ember okay?” My voice is rough and demanding. Panicked.

  “She’s fine. This is Dayton, Ember’s friend. We met—”

  “I remember,” I interrupt. I know it’s rude, but I’m not interested in cordial greetings. “Why are you calling me?”

  If Ember’s fine, why isn’t she the one using her phone?

  “Ember’s mom is in the ICU. She was thrown from a motorcycle earlier today. The doctor isn’t certain how bad it is just yet, but Ember is losing her mind. And—” he sighs, pauses, then continues “—if she falls, you should be there to catch her.”

  The news sinks in.

  “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning.” I look down at my leg.

  “Good,” Dayton’s voice is pleased. I get the feeling I just passed a test.

  “Ember told me not to call you, but I know her better than that.”

  “Are you going to tell her I’m coming?”

  Dayton snorts. “Have you ever been punched by her? It hurts. Even when she thinks it’s a friendly smack.”

  A short laugh escapes me. “I’ll take that as a no then.”

  Dayton tells me the hospital where Maddie was taken, and I tell him to expect me in the morning. We hang up and I call Miranda.

  “Change of plans,” I say sharply when she answers. “I need to get back home to Northmount ASAP.”

  I wait on the line while she pulls out her laptop and looks up flights. “I can get us on the nine a.m. It’s the first one out in the morning. There’s one that leaves at eleven tonight, but that’s in, like, three hours. So we’ll plan on—”

  “Tonight,” I say. I want to hold Ember tonight. I want her to know she has me. Years have passed, but I haven’t gone anywhere.

  “Okay,” Miranda says, her voice reluctant, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She tells me she’ll need fifteen minutes to book our tickets, get dressed and throw her things in her bag.

  I hang up and do as much as I can on my own. The crutches slow me down, and more than once I get upset and take out my frustration on a table leg. Miranda arrives and helps me finish up.

  Soon we’re on the freeway, heading for the airport. Miranda finally asks the reason for this change of plans. I tell her a truncated version of Ember, without mentioning the magic part. Miranda places a hand over her heart and sighs wistfully. “It’s so romantic.”

  “She has a boyfriend.” I have no idea why Dayton called me. He probably shouldn’t have.

  Miranda gives me a look as we coast into the drop-off area of the rental car lane. “That makes it even more romantic.”

  I’m going because Ember is hurting. I want to be there to catch her, and I have an awful, gut-wrenching feeling that Ember is about to fall really, really hard.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Miranda asks me again. It’s almost one in the morning, and we’re nearly at the hospital.

  “No.” I feel bad for my tone, but I’ve already told her that a handful of times. She’s not usually this pushy.

  “I’ll head to the hotel and get us settled in then.”

  I hear it in her voice. The hurt. Sighing, I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. Miranda has been a mother hen since I arrived home after my injury, and it’s getting old. Still, I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “I’m nervous about seeing Ember. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “Don’t worry about anything. Ember will be happy to see you.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t know Ember.” I picture the Ember I saw in the airport, how standoffish she’d been, how stiff. How she’d lied to me.

  “You’re saying she has feelings for you?”

  “No.”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “That is not what I said.”

  “I’m aware. I’m just telling you what I heard.”

  We’re quiet until Miranda pulls up to the hospital entrance. “Visiting hours are over, you know.”

  “But what if she’s in there?”

  “What if she’s not?”

  “Then I want to be the first face she sees when she arrives tomorrow morning, or, this morning, technically.” I peer through the sliding glass doors at the entrance. Someone sits behind the reception desk, staring at a computer screen.

  “Alright,” Miranda says, defeat in her voice. She comes around to my door, crutches in hand, and waits patiently for me to climb out and get the crutches situated under each arm.

  “Let me know when you want me to come get you.”

  She walks around the car and opens her door. Turning, I begin my now-familiar pace. I’ll be happy when I don’t have to heave, haul, and swing my body anymore.

  “Good luck, Noah,” Miranda calls.

  It takes a lot of work, but I slow and pause, throwing up a hand to send her off. She drives away, and I resume my slow walk all the way to the reception desk.

  The woman is surly. Her frown seems permanent. She informs me in an acerbic tone that visiting hours have been over for a long time. When I tell her my plan to wait, the frown lines around her mouth grow deeper, like chasms on the earth’s surface. I don’t even ask for an update on Maddie. Snakes might sprout from her head if she has to unnecessarily remind me I’m not next of kin.

  Hobbling to the far corner, I prop my crutches on the wall and pull another chair over in front of me. Once my legs are up on the second chair, I remove my sweatshirt and roll it up. It’ll make a decent pillow.

  Before I fall asleep, I take out my phone and go to a special folder in my photos. In it are all the pictures I’ve ever taken of Ember. Most of them are snapshots of real pictures, but there is one from two years ago that I took while she was sleeping. Her rose-colored lips were parted only slightly, and her whole face was relaxed. I wanted to remember her that way. She’d had so many expressions that night, beginning the moment I surprised her in the yoga studio, but this was the first time she looked serene.

  Stuffing the phone in my pocket, I lean my head on the make-shift pillow and close my eyes. I’m exhausted, but it takes forever to fall asleep. I don’t know how Ember will act when I see her.

  But Dayton called me.

  Me.

  Even though Ember has a boyfriend.

  Dayton knows Ember will need me.

  Me.

  Four hours. I slept four hours on that chair. The cushion became a pancake somewhere around hour number two, but the person who replaced the surly lady has made up for her nastiness.

  “Noah, here’s another cup of coffee.”

  I thank her when she sets it down.

  The shift change occurred at five a.m., and with nobody else in the waiting area, and me being awake, I explained why I’ve been here all night. She promised to whistle when a redhead walks in. I’ll probably see Ember first though. There’s a reason I chose this seat. It’s next to a wall of windows, and those windows look out onto the parking lot and entrance.

  Deanna, the nice receptionist, goes back to her desk, as a yawn escapes me. Reaching for the coffee, I resume my vigil. My stomach is in knots.

  As I watch, a man parks a sedan and climbs out. He looks up at the building, shuts his door, and starts for the entrance. I blink twice to make sure I’m seeing things clearly. Walking in, he heads straight for the elevators. I struggle to my feet, my coffee forgotten, and try to catch up.

  There’s no use, and the elevator doors shut long before I can get there. But there’s only one place my dad could be going, and it makes no sense. I ride the next elevator to the ICU. The nurses station is empty and I have no idea what to do. Across the hall is anoth
er waiting room, this one just for this floor. I go in there, choose a seat in view of the door and the nurses station, and wait for my dad to pass by.

  Ten minutes.

  Twenty minutes.

  My leg is killing me. It’s time for my medicine, and I need food to go with it. There’s a vending machine in the corner, so I hobble over and choose a bag of pretzels and water.

  When I get back in my seat, I pop a few pretzels in my mouth and take my pill. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes for a second.

  “Please call her doctor. We want to know how she’s doing.”

  I lift my head, blinking. Shit. Damn pain pills. How long have I been asleep?

  “Noah?”

  Ember stands in the doorway, her feet planted, her body shifting forward like someone pressed the pause button on her stride.

  I try to get up, but I’m a mess. My hands are shaking as I reach for my crutches, but one of them falls. I growl in frustration, then hear a sound. A sweet, throaty, amused sound.

  Ember is in front of me, reaching down for my fallen crutch. “Here.” She extends the stupid fucking crutch between us. I take it and shove it under my arm, along with the other one, and stand.

  Ember stares at me and pinches her bottom lip with two fingers. Behind her is Sky, arms folded in front of herself and eyebrows lifted high onto her forehead.

  “Dayton called me,” I explain.

  “I see.” Ember nods slowly. She looks tired. The skin beneath her eyes is puffy and faintly purple.

  “How is your mom?”

  “She has a severe concussion, possible bleeding on the brain. They need the swelling to reduce before they can assess her accurately.” Tears spring to her eyes, but they don’t spill over. “I haven’t been updated since last night. No news is good news, right?” She tries for a smile, but it fails.

  “Yes, definitely.” I try to sound upbeat. Sky walks away and sits down.

  “Why are you here, Noah?” Ember squints up at me.

  Her ability to pierce me with her eyes is still the same as it was the day we met.