The Ground Beneath (You and Me Book 1)

by Stephanie Vercier

  “Any more of that,” she says, “and I don’t think either of us would be able to stop.”

  “Right you are,” I say, having to calm myself, both mentally and physically.

  Eventually, we get out of the car, me carrying bags of miniature footballs, Seahawk stocking caps and stuffed animals with me. I’m not just grateful, but proud that Alli is here walking beside me.

  “Sheila says those new clients are giving you all a run for your money,” I say as we continue through the busy parking lot.

  She tightens her lips, then softens them enough to say, “Yeah, pretty much. I hope whatever the cut Sheila gets from them is worth it.”

  “So, Henry and Theresa Carmichael, huh?”

  She offers me a somewhat dazed look. “She told you?”

  “Sheila figured you’d have already mentioned it to me. It’s not a state secret, is it?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Are they, uh, treating you okay?”

  “Mmm… I guess so.”

  “You guess so?” If Theresa is making life miserable for Alli, I’m not going to be able to just sit on the sidelines and let it happen. I’ll go right to the source and find out just what the hell she’s up to.

  Alli lets out a breath. “Between you and me, I don’t like Theresa, so when I finish dealing with her for the day, I just kind of want to erase her from my mind.”

  “You shouldn’t have to put up with someone you need to erase from you mind,” I say, my anger at Theresa growing.

  “Isn’t that just business though?” Before I can tell her it shouldn’t be, she says, “Anyway, she’s having us plan this big black tie event, and she’s probably just stressing out because she wants it to be perfect. I’d have told you eventually since you’re on the invite list.”

  “Black tie event? For some kind of charity or what?” If Theresa is the charitable type, it’s unbeknownst to me.

  “Not really. I mean, it sounds like they’re going to try to raise money for something Henry is attached to, but from what I understand, it’s just because Theresa wants to throw a big party.”

  That isn’t surprising. I’m not going to call Theresa a monster, but she’s selfish. Maybe part of why I was attracted to her at first is because she wears blinders. She doesn’t like to think about all the misery in the outside world, and for a very long time, I hadn’t either. It was just easier to focus on what was right in front of you to keep you from dwelling on things you couldn’t change or fix all on your own.

  But I was tiring of that, and meeting Alli made me sure that trying to pave over your past and the things that are wrong in your life might actually be worse than facing them.

  In that vein, I should tell Alli about my relationship with Theresa, that I’d had a long-term affair with a married woman, the woman who’s responsible for Alli’s increased workload. I’d tell her it was a mistake, a long-lasting regrettable one, but just the idea of it makes my gut drop. What would she think of me knowing I’d slept with the wife of my teammate? I don’t want to see that disappointment in her eyes, and yet, ashamed or not, it’s something I’ll have to tell her one day—just not today, I decide.

  “Hunter?” She puts her hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

  We’re approaching the front doors to Children’s, and I say, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just hate thinking about how hard you have to work to put on some party that isn’t really going to benefit anyone.”

  She stops, gently tugging my arm so that I stop with her. “I’m sure all of this craziness won’t last forever. Besides, I’m pretty sure that Sheila has a limit to what she’s willing to put up with, even if it means she’ll lose the Carmichael’s as clients.”

  I touch her cheek with the palm of my hand. “I hope you’re right because I’m a selfish man when it comes to you. I don’t like to share.”

  She laughs, shakes her head and then takes my hand. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s get in there and brighten someone’s day.”

  After clearing our visit with Judy, the same hospital administrator we’d met when we were last here, we make a beeline for Logan’s room. I’m hoping to see the kid and be able to offer him more than just another man-to-man talk. But when his bed is empty, I go to worst-case scenario, and it takes Alli to calm me down.

  “Let’s go talk to someone,” she says, taking my hand. “His bed’s a mess, so that probably just means he’s out of his room.”

  “But what if—”

  “Let’s talk to someone first before we jump to conclusions,” she says.

  And she’s right.

  Someone at the nursing station informs us he’s gone off for a procedure in another part of the hospital and that he’ll be back in a couple of hours.

  “You think you can wait until then?” I ask Alli, not wanting her to have to backtrack on her word to Sheila.

  “Let’s just see how long it actually takes,” she says. “We can visit some other rooms in the interim, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I nearly laughed at the idea I’d have been just fine here on my own. The truth is that I’m still not that good at this stuff. It’s one thing to play football in front of an audience that can reach into the millions on TV, but it’s still a challenge walking into a room and knowing the right thing to say to a kid who’s sick and might not ever get better.

  “I love the colors of your hat,” Alli tells a young girl who sits in her bed wearing a rainbow-colored stocking cap, some kind of feeding tube going up into her nose. “Reminds me of unicorns, and I think we might just have one last lucky one in our bag.” She looks at me since I’m the one holding the bag of stuffed animals we’ve been passing out while we wait for Logan to get back.

  I open up the bag and find the last one. “Looks like we do.”

  It had been Alli’s idea to supplement the footballs and Seahawk plush with stuff that would appeal to kids who weren’t into sports. It was just last week we went shopping during her lunch break, buying up almost all of the stuffed animals in a downtown store’s toy department. Even though I didn’t have any upcoming events scheduled with kids, Alli said it was good to be prepared.

  As usual, she was right.

  I walk to the side of the girl’s bed and hand the unicorn to her. “Here you go. I think this little guy was waiting for you.”

  Her eyes widen as she reaches out, taking the stuffed animal and then hugging it tight to her chest. “I love him,” she says in a tiny, frail voice.

  We spend another five or so minutes in the room, having spent the two hours before that visiting other rooms, talking to children and parents, nurses and doctors. I think we’ve succeeded in brightening a few days, though I can admit it takes a toll on me, makes me wish I could do more.

  “Should we go see if Logan’s in his room now?” Alli asks as soon as we say goodbye to the little girl.

  “Yeah,” I say. He’s been in the back of my mind the entire time we’ve been here.

  I’m half thinking we’ll see his room empty again, so when we knock on his door and he’s actually sitting up in bed, I immediately relax. My relief momentarily hides the fact that Logan’s arms are crossed over his weak chest and that there’s a scowl embedded on his pale face. The pained look doesn’t diminish when he barks out that we can come in.

  “Hey, man, we came by earlier, but you weren’t here.” I offer my hand for a loose handshake, but his arms remain crossed, and I ease my hand down.

  “They scanned me to see if my cancer spread,” he growls out. “I’m sure it has, which will mean I’ll get to go and die a lot faster.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” Alli says in a soft, measured voice.

  Logan throws daggers at her with his eyes. “How would you know? Are you a doctor or something?”

  She shakes her head, and looks timid in a way that isn’t like Alli at all.

  “She’s just trying to be helpful,” I say. “It’s a tough situation.”

  “Tell me about it,” Logan snaps. “I’m just si
ck of everyone telling me it’s going to be okay, that it’s going to be fine, when it’s so fucking not.”

  “When do you get the scans back?” I’m trying to imagine how grueling it would be to wait to find out just how much your cancer has spread.

  “Fuck if I know. Later today I guess.”

  “I can wait with you,” I offer. “Maybe try to take your mind off of things?” I look to Alli because staying means she won’t get back to the office in time unless we call her a car. If we’d ever gotten around to those driving lessons, I’d have just given her mine.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Alli says. “I can hang around until a little bit before one, too… that is if you don’t mind having a girl in the room.”

  Logan softens, his shoulders relaxing as he uncrosses his arms. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to be a dick… and yeah, it’s cool if you guys wanna hang out with me.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Alli says assuredly.

  We settle into the room, but it takes a good ten minutes and more than a few tries before Alli and I manage to get Logan’s mind off of his pending scan results.

  “So… you’re his girlfriend, huh?” he asks Alli, the first non-cancer related thing he’s said.

  She smiles and turns to me, tilts her head and widens her eyes, a look that tells me she isn’t going to hide the truth from Logan. “That’s right. It’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it.”

  Logan laughs, and I do too.

  “I didn’t realize it was such an effort to be with me,” I joke.

  “Oh, I’d say the effort is worth it,” she says, returning my smile. “And what about you?” she asks Logan.

  “What about me what?”

  “Is there someone that you like?”

  When she asks, I’m worried this will take Logan right back to his illness and all of the impossibilities it creates for him. On our last visit, he told me that nobody would want a living skeleton like him. So, I don’t expect him to say, “Well, there’s this girl.”

  “And does this girl have a name?” Alli asks gently.

  Logan looks down, but I can still see the smile erupting on his face. “Grace,” he says.

  “From school?” Alli asks.

  He nods. “Yeah, school, plus she’s lived up the road from my house for years. I used to give her tons of shit about her red hair when we were younger.”

  “Because you actually liked the red hair, right?” I ask, my powers of deduction good enough to figure that out.

  A sheepish nod follows. “Her hair and everything else. If I didn’t get sick, I’d have manned up and asked her out by now.”

  “You could still ask her out,” Alli says before any silence can descend on the room again.

  “Only if she’s into pale guys who look like skeletons,” Logan replies, his smile wavering.

  I’m anxious to move the conversation in a different direction, afraid this one’s only bringing Logan right back down again. I don’t say anything, though, because I’m sure Alli knows what she’s doing.

  “Not every girl cares about stuff like that,” she says. “Some girls actually want a guy who’s been through some things, who can relate to life not always going as planned.” She manages to turn her smile my way, and I know she’s talking about us just as much as she’s talking about Grace and Logan.

  “Doubtful,” Logan says. “Grace is hot. She’s probably dating a dumb jock football player or something.”

  “Hey, not all of us football players are dumb,” I interject.

  “I can attest to that,” Alli chimes in, and I like the echo of all of us laughing.

  “What if we could get Grace to stop by?” I ask, assuming Logan probably hasn’t made any moves to make this happen on his own.

  “She won’t,” he says.

  “You know that for sure?” I push.

  He shrugs. “She’s got no reason to. She probably still thinks I’m a jerk, even if I am dying.”

  “You’re living right now,” I tell him. “And if she wanted to see you, would you let her?”

  He doesn’t say anything for what seems like forever. Having been a teenage boy myself, having felt like nobody in the world could understand what I’d been through in my life, I’m sure he’s imagining dozens of ways a visit from Grace could go wrong.

  Finally, he offers a shrug and says, “I guess it’d be cool… if she wanted to.”

  “We could have a party,” Alli says. “I’m sure we can convince Judy to let us reserve a room here. That way you could invite some of your other friends too. We could make it like a school dance or something.”

  God, I’m grateful for Alli. “Sounds cool to me,” I say. “What do you think, Logan?”

  A few last looks of doubt hang on his expression before he says, “Okay, yeah, I guess so. It’d probably be better than the lame ass dances they have at school anyway.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” Alli says. “You give me all the info I need on who you want to come, and we’ll make it happen.”

  I want to kiss Alli right now, but I’m not sure Logan would appreciate the PDA, so I just say, “This woman here is pretty damn amazing, don’t you think?”

  “So put a ring on it,” Logan says, his expression serious.

  It’s the same thing he told me the last time I was here.

  “I’m working on it.” Slowly, I turn to Alli, half afraid her expression will tell me she’s not ready for that quite yet. But what she offers me is a solid smile and two bright eyes that say we’re on the same page.

  It would have been amazing if she could have just hung out with me and Logan the rest of the day, but duty called, and I got a car for her so she could get back to the office before one. True to my word, I stay. I’m not moving an inch until Logan gets his scans back. We watch some TV, talk about sports—Logan prefers soccer over football—and he opens up more about his family situation. His parents are divorced, his dad living somewhere in Louisiana and his mother doing all the heavy lifting.

  “She comes by every night, even when she’s exhausted,” he tells me, something like guilt in his voice. “I tell her she doesn’t have to, but she does it anyway. Sometimes I wish I’d just die already so she could have one full night of sleep.”

  “I’m not sure how well she’d sleep if you were gone,” I tell him.

  “I don’t know… yeah… maybe she’d be pretty sad,” he admits.

  When a doctor finally comes into the room, it’s well after five. He looks startled when he sees me sitting next to Logan, but then he clears his throat, puts his hand out and shakes mine. “Hello, there. I’m Dr. Winston. It’s Mr. Lawrence, isn’t it? I heard you were in the building.”

  “You can call me Hunter,” I say. “I just wanted to be here with Logan until he got his results.” I look toward my young friend. “I can stay or go, totally up to you.”

  Determined, Logan says, “I want you to stay.”

  “All right, man. I’m here for you.”

  “Very kind of you, Hunter,” Dr. Winston says, pulling up a chair. “I never like delivering these updates to you while you’re all alone,” he says to Logan.

  “Yeah, well, if we wait for my mom to have a day off, I’ll never get the news,” Logan says. “So, just tell me like you usually do and then give my mom a call, okay?” There’s pressure in Logan’s voice, and I get it. Good or bad, he wants to know what’s going on inside of his body.

  Dr. Winston nods. “Of course. I understand.”

  Over the next ten minutes, Dr. Winston shows Logan and myself the scans from earlier today and compares them to previous ones. A lot of what he says goes over my head, as if he’s speaking in a foreign language that Logan only gets because he’s been forced to learn it over his time in this hospital. But the bottom line seems to be that, while there isn’t significant improvement, his cancer hasn’t spread.

  “So, that’s good then?” I ask when Dr. Winston closes down his tablet with the scans and gets u
p.

  “It’s as good as we can hope for.”

  “Death delayed,” Logan tags on.

  “Can I talk to you outside… for just a minute?” I ask of the doctor.

  “Well, certainly, Hunter,” he says amenably.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell Logan, but he’s already turned his TV on, probably more than ready to zone out for a while.

  Once we’re in the hallway, I ask Dr. Winston, “Is everything being done for Logan that can be done?”

  “Well, yes. We’re following the protocol we have for anyone in the same situation.”

  “But is there more that could be done? Treatments that… I don’t know, have been too expensive to offer him?”

  “I assure you that we provide the very best care to all of our patients here—”

  “I’m sure you do,” I interject, wanting to get to the point. “But if there are treatment options for Logan that have seemed out of reach until now, I’d like to personally pay for every possibility Logan has to kick this thing.”

  Dr. Winston pushes his lips into a thin line, and he studies me, like he’s looking for signs of true sincerity. “Kicking cancer isn’t like shaking off the common cold,” he says. “We’ve come a long way in the last twenty or so years, but we’re not even close to where we’d really like to be. You can have all of the money in the world and still die of cancer. One only needs to think of Steve Jobs to realize this.”

  “I’m not asking for miracles. I’m only saying that if there’s something that might give Logan an edge, even if it’s a small one, then I want to help give him that.”

  Dr. Winston lets out what I think might be an appeasing breath. “That’s very kind of you, Hunter, and as long as you understand that there are no guarantees when it comes to this disease, then I’m sure Logan and his mother would be very pleased by your offer.”

  “So, you’ll agree to let me help him?”