Worth Every Risk

by Laine, Terri E.

  “Holly and Owen.”

  His brow arches. I step back into the house, giving me another inch or two. Then I draw him close. On my toes, I plant a kiss on his lips.

  “Don’t be jealous. He’s just a friend and that’s all he’s ever been. He asked about you. Besides, you’re home early.”

  “I can’t stay away from my girls.”

  I grin and he smiles back, gracing me with another kiss before he goes to Violet and chats with Owen. I watch in fascination as they actually get into a conversation when Violet and Holly have said all they want to.

  When I pull out the roast, I finally get why Mom never worked outside the home. There’s something satisfying about taking care of my family. Yes, I miss working as a nurse. But I don’t feel bored like I thought I would.

  Chase surprises me while I lift the lid of the pot to smell the gravy I’ve worked up for our smashed potatoes.

  “God, woman, is there anything you can’t do?” he asks as he puts his arms around me from behind.

  “I can’t play soccer.” I glance at him over my shoulder and offer up a wink.

  “Football,” he groans. “Not you too.”

  I turn in his arms.

  “Do you want to teach me the difference?” I tease. “One is a full-contact sport, right?”

  He tugs me flush against him. “You’re killing me. I want you right here.”

  We both glance over at Violet. Then he gives me a wicked grin. “I will have you later and you’ll pay for teasing me.”

  He slaps my ass and I yelp. Then he’s back over with our daughter. She hands him a doll and I stifle a giggle. When he does his little girl’s voice, it’s so endearing.

  “Team Wilde,” I say to myself.

  Things go so great the next week, Violet and I go to Chase’s last regular season game. Though they are slated to go to the playoffs.

  Violet cheers as I try to explain what’s going on. “Dada ball.” She points.

  Sure enough, Chase dribbles, as it’s called, down the field to the goal. When he called it that once, I thought he was talking about basketball. Boys and their sports.

  Violet jumps up in my lap. “Goal.”

  She says it perfectly as her dad scores. It’s one of those moments I wish for two more hands and clairvoyance. I would have liked to get that on camera. But someone taps me and points to the big screen. There Violet is on her feet with a fist in the air saying the word again and again.

  It’s exhilarating and unnerving at the same time. Have they found us? Would we be targets for the paparazzi?

  But all of that is moot when time runs out and fans storm the field. Chase is surrounded, having scored the last goal to break the tie. I stand there and watch my man. He pushes his way through the crowd, hops over the barrier, and treads up the stands to us. If there had been any doubt who we are to him, that’s all gone. He kisses Violet first and then me.

  Later that night, when it’s just the two of us, I ask the question.

  “Did the press ask you about us?”

  He couldn’t stay with us after the game. His contract requires he speak to the press after games. We’d gone home and waited for him to arrive.

  “They did. But it’s fine. It’s time the world knows that I’m yours. Maybe Lucia won’t try anything else.”

  I hope so.

  It must’ve worked, because after that, Lucia never shows her face again.

  Two mornings later, he’s gone again. With the playoffs beginning, they didn’t get but a day’s break, which we spent taking Violet to the zoo.

  He’s gone to practice and I’ve let Violet sleep because we had a long day yesterday. When I check the time, it’s well past ten and Violet still hasn’t gotten up.

  When I enter her room, my heart stops. Her cheeks are flushed and her skin is hot—too hot. I don’t need a thermometer. I rush to my bathroom and turn on the shower. She’s barely opened her eyes when I scoop her up.

  “Mama, feel bad.”

  There’s no time to call Chase yet. I need to bring her fever down and call the doctor before I call him. It could be nothing, but deep in my heart, I know better.

  Thirty-Eight

  Chase

  The team is elated when I score the winning goal. It’s the second round in the playoffs, which means we’ll be advancing to the finals. Neither team had scored the entire match, and we were wondering whether we would go into overtime. But my big break came in the final minutes. The left midfielder passed me the ball and I saw an opening between the sweeper and the stopper, so I took the shot and fired. Since I’m the team’s striker, they were counting on me, and I was able to deliver. The ball sailed into the goal for a perfect score.

  After the match, the media tries to interview me, but the coaches are great in fielding all questions. They know the players need to escape, because we face another game in two days.

  I head to the locker room with the other players and check my phone. I’m more than a little surprised when there isn’t a congratulatory text from Andi. I know she watched the game. What’s going on here? Then it hits me: Something must’ve happened.

  I tap her name on my phone and wait, but nothing. All the circuits must be busy since there are so many people here.

  “Fuck!”

  “What’s up?” One of my teammates hears me and asks.

  “I can’t get a line here. All circuits are busy or something.”

  “Try the landline in the coach’s office. They must have one.”

  “Great idea. Thanks.”

  Jogging over there, I barge inside. All the coaches’ heads snap up as I enter.

  “Hey, can I use the phone in here? I can’t get a line out,” I explain.

  “Sure.” They all look at me strangely. I’m in the I don’t give a fuck moment. Picking up the phone, I dial Andi’s number. It rings and I breathe again.

  “Hello?” she says hesitantly.

  “Hey, baby, it’s me. I couldn’t call from my cell phone. There are too many people here.”

  “Oh.”

  “I was worried when you didn’t text me.”

  “Chase.”

  It’s the way she says my name that clues me in. “It’s Violet, isn’t it?”

  “We’re in the hospital. She spiked a fever and things went south.”

  “I’m coming home.”

  “You can’t come home.”

  “You wanna bet?” I hang up the phone before she can say anything else. Then I approach the coaching staff.

  “My daughter is in the hospital. Things are really bad. I have to leave.”

  “Leave? You can’t leave. We have a game in three days. We’re in the finals.”

  “I’m sorry. If she’s better, I’ll be back. If not, then you’ll have to compete without me. My daughter’s life is much more important than any football match will ever be.”

  “You have a contract with us, Wilde. You’ll breach it.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to do what you have to do, but my daughter is extremely sick and I have to go. I’m sorry. I never meant to let the team down, but I also have an obligation to my family.”

  Not wasting another second, I run to the locker room to quickly shower so I can get to the airport. It’s going to be hell getting out of the stadium as it is, but getting a flight is going to be another problem.

  As I’m packing up my bag, I call Max. Luckily this time, the call goes through. “Max, I need your help. I need a flight back to Rome. Violet is in the hospital. I don’t care how you have to do it, but get me back there as soon as you can.”

  “I’ll do my best. What did the coaches say?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Max arranges for a car to pick me up and charters a flight to get me back to Rome. All of my teammates send their prayers with me. I arrive at the hospital at a reasonable hour. Even though I’m a mess when I walk into Violet’s room, I put on the best front possible. I have to be strong for my girls.

  An
di runs into my arms as soon as she sees me. Violet looks like the wilted tiny flower that she is. I rarely get the urge to cry … but this is one of those times. When I gaze at her miniscule form lying in that hospital bed, all I want to do is break down and bawl like a baby. But I don’t dare. I’m the captain of Team Wilde, and I will not let any weakness show.

  “How is she?” I whisper, because Violet is asleep.

  Andi motions me toward the hall. Once outside, she fills me in.

  “Not good. All her counts are extremely low. The doctors say she stopped responding to the drugs. They’re talking bone marrow transplant.”

  “How much time does she have before that?”

  “They’re not saying. They’re going to start blood transfusions in the morning. We can donate.”

  “Okay.”

  “She’s on antibiotics to get her infection under control.”

  “Why didn’t they do a blood transfusion today?”

  “Oh, they did a white cell transfusion. Tomorrow they’re doing the whole blood. I’m not sure the reasoning. I have to be honest. My brain hasn’t been quite here. I was so upset when she woke up so sick.”

  I pull her close into my arms. “It’s too much for one person to handle alone, Andi. That’s why I came.”

  We stand together in silence for a few minutes, and then I say, “Babe, I think we need to go home.”

  “Home?”

  “Back to the States. If Violet needs bone marrow, it’s time. We need our families close by. Even if none of them are matches. It’s all about them being our support system.”

  “Are you sure? This is your career.”

  I take her shoulders in my hands and catch her gaze. “You and Violet are my life. Not my career in football. If I lost either of you, I’d have nothing. Football is temporary. You and Violet are permanent. Football is a job. You and Violet are my family. Am I getting through?”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  “Then the decision is made. We’ll talk to the doctors. We also need to find out about who is a match. A lot of people got tested. Hopefully, one of them is at least a fifty percent.”

  In the morning, Violet wakes up and tries to grin when she sees me, but it never quite makes it. She’s cranky and it’s no wonder. The poor thing is ill.

  The doctor comes in and we inform him of our decision.

  “I don’t recommend that she flies on a commercial airliner. With her immune system, all the germs floating around the recirculated air could pose a problem for her.”

  “That won’t be a problem. I was planning on chartering a flight anyway,” I say.

  Andi adds, “And I’m a nurse, so I can give her any medications that might be required on the flight.”

  “Good,” the doctor replies. “Then let’s get this transfusion underway.”

  It gives us great relief to know that my blood is O negative and I’m able to provide Violet the blood she needs, along with Andi, who is A positive, which is Violet’s blood type. At first we were worried about her getting blood from a random donor, but after they assured us we could be the donors, we felt much more at ease about her transfusions.

  “Doctor, did you ever get the results of the bone marrow testing?” I ask. “I’m talking about whether anyone is at least a partial match.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ll give all that to you before you travel. I believe one of your family members ended up being a match. I don’t recall the name, but you’re very lucky. A parent only has a one in two hundred chance of being a match, and a sibling only twenty-five percent. Seventy percent of donors come from the registry program. This has worked to your benefit indeed. The other thing I’ll need is which hospital you’ll want her to go to. I believe we discussed Children’s Hospital in Nashville, Ms. James. Is that still your decision?”

  “Yes, we think that’s the best choice. And you agree?” Andi asks.

  “I do. They have state-of-the-art treatment for aplastic anemia in children,” the doctor answers.

  “Then can you make the arrangements?”

  “I’ll be happy to. I should have that completed by this afternoon, so if you want to make your flight arrangements for tomorrow, that would be fine.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Andi says.

  We have a lot to do in a day. I place a call to Max, asking him to charter a flight for us for tomorrow. And then I ask him to book us a hotel in Nashville close to the hospital. I’m sure we’ll be staying with Violet, but one of us may need a break to sleep and our family may need to have a room or something. Then there’s the matter of packing our things and closing up the house.

  “Chase, don’t worry about all that. I can pack up what you leave behind, or you can come back and retrieve it when Violet gets better.”

  “But, Max, it doesn’t make sense to pay for the house if we’re not going to be there.”

  “I’ll handle it. I can have someone come in, pack up your things, move them to storage until you return. Just pack up what you’ll be needing for the next few months and I’ll handle the rest.”

  “Good idea. Thanks, Max. My mind is spinning.”

  “I’m sure it is. And you know you’ll be hearing about your contract.”

  “I do. I’ll let you field everything until the crisis with Violet has passed. I don’t want to be disturbed with this unless it’s an emergency.”

  “Understood. I’ll get to work on your flight.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Max.”

  I relay everything to Andi and she seems more relaxed about it. “It does ease my mind, but can you afford that flight?”

  “Stop worrying about the money. I’ve already told you I can afford it. Did you know that European football players make much more than American football players do? Well, the good ones, anyway.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, so let’s worry about getting our things together.”

  She’s standing next to Violet’s bed, smoothing the little one’s hair back. Violet is holding her favorite stuffed bunny. Her coloring is nearly ashen. It’s scary. I want her to be laughing and running around the house again. Hopefully, the bone marrow transplant will do exactly that and we can have our giggling little girl back.

  Andi slips into the bathroom for a minute, and while she’s in there, the nurse comes in to hook Violet up with her blood transfusion. Now I’m more than happy Andi was a go for the port. All they have to do is basically plug the line into the port in Violet’s chest. No needle stick for my little one. She doesn’t miss a beat as she lies there. But she’s so listless, it scares me. The nurse leaves and Andi walks out of the bathroom. I expect to see a sign of relief on her face when she notices the transfusion running into our daughter. Instead, Andi covers her face and cries.

  Immediately, I rush to her side and wrap her in my arms. I think she’s sad seeing Violet so ill, but then I hear her words.

  “I’m not pregnant. I just started my period.”

  Shit.

  “It’s okay, baby. We’ll have many more opportunities to try. Don’t be sad. It’s all going to work out. I promise.” She sobs within the circle of my arms and I only hope I can fulfill the promise I just made to her.

  Thirty-Nine

  Andi

  After Chase explains the plans, I shake my head. “They’re just things. Most of it I don’t really care about. But Violet’s going to want her bear, Mr. Giggles, and CoCo, the doll you bought her.”

  “Max can get those.”

  “He can,” I admit. “I don’t have anything worth that much but my grandmother’s ring. I can’t lose it.”

  Tears burst from my eyes and I cover my face, feeling stupid for wanting a ring when my daughter is ill.

  Chase tugs me against him and strokes a hand down my back.

  “It’s fine. I can go get it. The doc says Violet is stable. Plus, she’s sleeping.”

  I step out of his embrace. Because it had been wishful thinking, I wasn’t prepared.

  “I’ll go. There a
re things I need.”

  I give him a knowing look I hope he gets so I don’t have to spell it out again about my body’s failures. I’ve failed Violet twice. Maybe it’s fate for me not to be a mother again. I turn from Chase. It’s selfish of me to cry in front of him when I should be putting up a brave front for them both.

  Chase comes over. “Max is coming to pick you up.” He tips my chin. “It’s going to be fine.”

  I nod slowly, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

  By the time I make it back to the house, I don’t hear what Max says. I drift through the door like a lone tumbleweed over cracked earth on a desert plain.

  First, I pack a few things for Violet, including clothes and her favorite toys and books. When I’m done, I stand in the doorway and remember when I first arrived and how the room had become a home.

  Covering my mouth, I escape the thoughts of long-past happy times and go into my room. It looks exactly like the day I arrived. I grab the handful of jewelry I own and a few other things for myself. Then I take a shower and cry. I let it all out so that when I go back to the hospital I can be strong again.

  “Are you okay?” Max, a good-looking older man, asks.

  He isn’t ancient, just some years older than we are. He has a kind smile and eyes that see more than I want him to.

  “I will be. I’m going to get a few things for Chase just in case.”

  He agrees and I go into our room. I look at the tangle of sheets and remember how happy I’d been. I quickly get a bag together for him and I’m reminded how I’m not sure if I got all his favorite things.

  Suck it up, I chide myself. In the back of my mind I worry that Chase is thinking about all the time from his daughter I stole from him. Or maybe that’s my guilt.

  I inhale and let it all out before walking out.

  “I’m ready.”

  I glance around and hate that Chase is letting this place go. It’s where we found each other again. I’m not going to tell him. It’s just sentiment that’s not important. Home is where the heart is and all that.