I settled in on the couch, finishing off my ice cream, as he talked about her. It looked like Grace had quickly won his heart over.
“Ford and I threw the football this afternoon, and I took my shirt off,” I harrumphed when he mentioned this. When did he keep a shirt on? “Finished?” he asked pointedly, before continuing. “Anyway, Grace noticed her name on my arm. She can write her name already, can you believe?” he said, rhetorically I was assuming, because he continued on. “She wanted to know why it was there, so I explained that she was important to me, and I wanted to keep her close. So she asked why I just didn’t visit.”
“Outta the mouths of babes,” I quipped, probably inappropriately, but still, he knew he’d missed out. No need to rub salt in the wounds.
“Right?” he replied. “I think I felt an inch tall. I promised her I’d be visiting more often. She was something else.”
“I can only imagine if she’s your blood,” I told him. “How’d it go with Hannah?” I asked, fishing. I mean, the woman was his first love, and the mother of his child. I was allowed to be curious. I would not admit to any jealousy that might be trying to worm its way in.
“She’s fantastic. I’ve never seen Ford happier. They fit together. Almost makes me wonder why I never saw it when we were dating,” he told me. I somehow kept my excitement quiet, as I fist pumped and danced around the living room.
“What are you doing?” he asked me. “It sounds like you’re dancing around.”
Maybe I wasn’t so quiet. “Nothing. Maybe it’s static,” I muttered. “Well, you know there wasn’t anything between them before you left for school. And you’re not the most observant person I’ve ever met,” I told him bluntly.
“Don’t spare my feelings,” he said, snarkily. “Hannah’s graduating in May with an Engineering degree. I swear, nothing stops her.”
My vision went a little green at that comment, but I refrained from saying anything that sounded jealous. “She sounds amazing. Did she ever marry Ford?” I blurted out, thoughtlessly.
“Um, no actually. They were waiting for me,” he said, uncomfortably. This distracted my attention from my completely unwarranted and pointless jealousy.
“Waiting for you?” I said, the question in my voice clear.
“Yeah, Ford didn’t want to get married, unless I’d be his best man. He’s been waiting for me to come around,” he admitted, pride and shame mixed in his voice. “I had no idea. Of course I’ll be his best man. I feel bad that he’s waited for me though.”
“Obviously this is important to him,” I pointed out. “When do they want to get married?”
“Not sure. Ford and I talked about it today. He basically pulled me to the side, asking me if I was okay with him marrying Hannah, and if I’d be his best man. I was kind of shocked,” he told me. “I don’t think he’s asked her yet. It was a weird reversal of asking permission. Instead of the parents, you ask the ex-boyfriend/baby daddy nowadays.”
I really didn’t think he meant that to be funny, but I couldn’t help choking on a laugh. I was trying desperately to not let him hear me. I didn’t want him to think I was taking his family trip as a joke.
“You can laugh. It’s funny,” he said dryly, and I lost it.
“Sorry. I don’t know why that struck me as funny,” I said, getting myself under control, finally.
“Probably because it’s all some weird, messed-up version of my normal. I have to admit, it felt good when he asked me,” Colt said. “He wanted to include me in this. In fact, he waited four years to include me. I’m glad. I want to be there for his wedding.”
“I’m guessing that meant you told him you’d be his best man?” I asked, hoping the answer was yes.
“Yep. I told him I would. Just to not get married during football season,” he answered, matter-of-factly.
“Of course,” I replied neutrally, shaking my head. Football season trumps everything, apparently.
“Pretty sure he was going to ask Hannah tonight, so I’ll find out soon enough when the wedding is.” Colt murmured.
“I’m sure your mom will be over the moon,” I said, around a yawn. “How’d it go with her?”
“She cried,” he replied. “All day. She followed me around. Wouldn’t let me out of her sight. I’d planned to stay at a hotel. You can probably guess how that went over.”
“You’re in your childhood bedroom right now, aren’t you?” I replied, smiling at the thought.
“You got it. I’ll send a picture. Gotta say, my younger self had good taste,” he answered, with a smile in his voice. “Football and Sports Illustrated models cover my walls.”
“Hot,” I said, listening to him laugh at my reply. “How long are you staying?”
“Not sure. I didn’t know how it would go, so I didn’t book a return flight. I’ve got to be at spring training in two weeks. Think I’m going to play it by ear,” he answered, his words hopeful.
“That’s a good idea,” I told him, around another yawn.
“Go to bed. I didn’t realize it was so late,” he demanded, as I glanced at the clock. It was midnight, and I had a 7:00 a.m. class tomorrow.
“Yeah, I need to sleep. They won’t teach themselves,” I groaned.
“Good night,” he said.
“Sleep tight,” I replied.
“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” We finished in unison. I was grinning when I crawled into bed. It was always that way when I talked to Colt.
A few days later, I got a text from Colt, “January 6th.”
I had no clue what that date meant, so I texted back, “?”
“The wedding. Jan 6th,” he texted back.
“Oh! Any reason for that day?” I asked him, puzzled. I could see Christmas or New Year’s day, but the sixth? I checked and it was a Friday.
“That’s Ford and Grace’s birthday. I think Ford wants to make it easy on himself, so he won’t forget the date,” Colt replied, with a smiley face.
“That makes sense,” I texted back.
“I’m telling you for a reason,” he sent back. I raised my eyebrow. I knew we’d discussed it, but I wasn’t sure what other reason there would be.
“Aaand your reason is?” I asked him, point blank.
“Save the date,” he replied. I felt like I was playing a game of twenty questions ... why does Sophie need to know January 6th?
“Marking it on my calendar now,” I said, my sarcasm lost on the text message.
“I need a date,” he answered back.
“I’m not a dating service. Pretty sure you could have your pick, though,” I shot back, thinking the sarcasm was pretty clear that time.
“You busy that day?” he replied back. I shook my head, as I smirked.
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?” I responded, hoping coy translated over text.
“I’d like you to be my ‘plus one’ for Ford’s wedding,” he replied. I laughed at his word choice.
“Are you asking me on a date nine months from now?” I replied, trying to get him to say it.
“Is that a yes?” he sent back.
“Only if you’re asking me on a date,” I told him.
“Then yes, I’m asking if you’ll be my date to Ford and Hannah’s wedding,” he said, the words sending a thrill through me. We’d never been on a date, and for him to ask me to go to a family wedding, almost a year away, made me giddy.
“Why, yes, I’d love to,” I typed back, grinning hugely.
A few weeks later, I got home after a grueling day. I’d passed back their graded finals and suffice to say some students would be repeating my class. I’d also forgotten my phone that morning on the charger. It had literally been the day from hell. I wanted a hot bath and chocolate. Order yet to be determined.
I flipped the TV on as I headed to my bedroom to change. It was on ESPN, but I wasn’t really listening, as I walked back into the kitchen to check my phone. I saw two missed calls from Colt and a text message, before I heard the sportscaster mention Co
lt Anderson. I looked up at the TV screen.
“This is a tragedy. Colt Anderson was the next golden boy. I hate to hear about his injury.”
“It’s a career ending injury, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe not. He’s young and strong. He could make a comeback from this.”
“But who would risk him? After an injury like this?”
I was dialing his number as I looked at the screen, listening to them, as they discussed the end of Colt’s career. I heard the phone connect.
“How bad is it?” I asked him, fighting the fear coiling in my gut.
“Bad,” he replied, his voice dead. “Torn labrum, tear in the rotator cuff.”
“I don’t know what all that is. Your shoulder?” I questioned, my chest tightening.
“Yeah, I’m scheduled for surgery tomorrow. Best orthopedist in the country is coming to do it.” He sounded exhausted. The thought running through my head was ‘shoulder injury on a quarterback - can’t get much worse.’ I couldn’t say it though. I was sure the same thought was on a loop in his head.
“That’s fantastic. You can recover from this,” I said, as positively as I could. “Was anyone there with you?”
“My parents are flying in for the surgery. They’ll stay a week. I’ll be starting rehab immediately,” he told me, his voice worn. “I won’t be playing this season. The injury couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Hey, you have a year to recover. You can come back stronger than before,” I said, instantly going into pep talk mode. I knew he was devastated. I felt it through the phone. He’d worked for this one dream his entire life and made hard sacrifices for it. To have it torn away in an instant was impossible to accept.
“School is out in a couple weeks. I’ll fly out. I’m teaching a summer workshop, so I’ll need to be back for that, but I’m all yours till then,” I told him, keeping my voice cheerful.
“All mine? Sounds fun.” His voice was weak, but his attempt to flirt thrilled me. He was going to need everything he had to recover. “You don’t have to come.”
“I know. I want to,” I told him, while doing a quick mental calculation of what’s in my savings account. I’d been saving for a trip to Alaska, but that was going to have to go on hold. I’d need everything in my savings for the plane ticket.
In the back of my mind, I knew this decision was pivotal. I didn’t fly back to visit my family at Easter, but I was dropping everything to go see Colt. There was a huge chance this was the end of his dream, and I was unwilling to let him face it alone. I didn’t want to let him face it alone. He was going to need me, if for nothing else than to kick him in the butt.
Colt
Chapter Eleven
I hung up the phone with Sophie, exhausted. I’d been hurt the day before at training—a bad hit that happened to be the perfect angle to destroy my shoulder. The TV in my room was on mute, but I could see they were playing old footage of me, dissecting my injury, and the odds of me recovering from it. I slammed my hand across the table by my bed, knocking everything off it to the floor.
I dropped my head back against the pillow, fighting the tears burning against my eyes. The rage flooding through me made me want to destroy the room, but I couldn’t. Not with my arm pinned to my chest, keeping my shoulder immobile. All I could do was sit there and wait and hope the damn surgeon could stitch me back together well enough that I had a chance of playing again. Even if I came back the same or better, I knew there was a good chance no team would pick me up. The risk of recurrent injury was too great.
Despair was not a word I’d ever felt the need to know. But at this moment, that was all I felt. Even when I’d found out about Ford and Hannah’s betrayal, that feeling hadn’t come close to what I felt now. I knew even with their secrets and lies, I had the game. I could throw myself into football and be okay. Now it was gone. I’d spent my life giving everything I was to a game I may never be able to play again.
I felt like there was a black hole in my chest, threatening to suck my soul away, the same way it had already taken my dream. I didn’t know who I was without football.
I woke up from the surgery disoriented and nauseated. I focused on my parents, hovering by my bed.
“How’d it go?” I whispered, my throat dry. I saw my mom’s tears and her head bob.
“It went really well,” she told me, grasping my hand. My dad was nodding in agreement. They were both smiling, but that may only have been because I was awake. I closed my eyes, feeling my chest tighten, I wanted to do something. I needed a goal. I needed to know I could recover from this.
Hours later, the doctor came in. I was feeling better than when I first woke up. The doctor had a great poker face, but he gave me a smile when he met my eyes.
“The surgery went well. I’ve done my part. The rest is up to you. If you want to continue playing professional football, then you need to do the rehab,” he told me, releasing the anchor welded to my chest.
My nod was tight. I had no problem putting the work in. All I needed was the chance.
“You start rehab tomorrow,” he told me grimly. “It won’t be easy, but you don’t seem like a quitter to me.”
“No, I’m not. I’ll be back on the field,” I assured him, confident in my ability. Nothing was going to stop me from making a comeback.
Except, maybe my mother.
“Mom, I’m fine. I don’t need a pillow,” I said, exasperated. I was trying to control my temper, but my shoulder was killing me from the light stretching we’d started with in rehab. I was frustrated by how difficult the stretching was for me. I was impatient, and the process of my rehab was anything but quick.
“Dani, leave him be,” my dad told my mom. She looked upset, but she stopped hovering over me. They’d flown in for my surgery and been here a week and half. As much as I loved and appreciated my mother’s help, I needed her to go home.
Everything was difficult for me with my shoulder. I’d needed Dad’s help to shower. They’d been driving me to rehab and doctor’s appointments and cooking for me. Mom had stocked my freezer with meals I could heat up, which I was grateful for, but I was also ready for them to be gone.
Sophie was supposed to arrive on Saturday; right after my parent’s flew home. I wouldn’t be alone for even a day. As much as I had valued my privacy for the past few years, I couldn’t help but admit being relieved, knowing I wouldn’t be alone. Anytime I was alone with my thoughts, the doubts and fears that I tried to keep at bay came rushing in. I was determined to go back to being better than I was, but there was a persistent fear that I wouldn’t recover completely.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” Mom begged again. We’d had this conversation a dozen times over the past few days.
“I’ve got a life here,” I said, again. “This is where the team is. I need to focus on my rehab.”
I could see her wanting to start arguing, but my dad interrupted her. “Dani, he needs to do what he needs to do. Son, you’re always welcome to come home. We’re happy to have you with us, while you recover.” I nodded at him. I knew they were, but I wasn’t sure I could survive the smothering. My visit home had been eye opening.
None of us were the same people we’d been. I’d left four years ago, with no intention of ever going back. Actually going back home and seeing how our dynamic had changed took some getting used to. Ford had his own family. Mom and Dad had been empty nesters for a few years now. And I wasn’t the same happy-go-lucky guy I’d been.
Rehab was harder than I anticipated, but I wasn’t ready to admit defeat and go home now. I had to stand on my own two feet and prove I could do this. I was going to be better than I was.
A few days later, I hugged them goodbye. It was bittersweet. They’d been there for me when I needed them, and while I was happy they had come, I was also happy to see them go.
“Call me if you need anything,” my mom said, looking me in the eye. “I can come back in a minute, if you need me. If you change
your mind, you can come home. I’ll get your room ready for you,” she said, sniffling. My dad pulled her away from me before clapping a hand on my back.
“Take care of yourself. We’re here if you need us. Don’t forget that,” he told me, his voice thick. I felt myself getting choked up, so I nodded and gave him a quick hug. I watched them go through security, before I headed to the baggage claim.
I hadn’t mentioned Sophie’s coming to them. I knew there was no way in hell my mom would have left without meeting her. I wasn’t ready for that, and I had feeling neither was Sophie. I’d kept my relationship with her a secret from everyone, even Ford. My relationship with Sophie was different. I wasn’t ready to admit how important she’d become to me.
Right after they’d determined my injury, she’d been the first person I called. I hadn’t even thought about it. Her number was the one I dialed. When she finally called me back, asking how bad it was, I’d felt my chest loosen. I knew she’d understand. My injury wasn’t life threatening, but it was destructive, all the same. I could heal, but would I be the same after? She knew without me having to explain it.
She was determined that I would have my dream, and as little as I liked to admit it, I needed her faith.
I walked to the baggage area for her airline, tugging my baseball cap down. I didn’t think anyone would recognize me, but I wasn’t interested in dealing with sympathy. The constant media airing of my injury had died down somewhat, but apparently, it was the best news story they had at the moment.
I waited about thirty minutes before I saw a stream of passengers heading toward me. The baggage carousel started up, and people started grabbing their luggage. I was looking for her dark hair, when suddenly I was grabbed into a bear hug from behind. I was shocked, until I recognized her scent. I don’t know how she got behind me, but I reached my good arm around and hugged her to me.
The Anderson Brothers Complete Series Page 28
