by Jillian Dodd
I look down at my leg. I've been feeling pretty depressed since the doctor came in this morning and told me that the bone would heal just fine, but that there was so much cartilage damage it will require significant rehab just to walk again.
At some point, I'm going to have to figure my life out--just not today.
"You're being released," a chipper nurse tells me. "Your sister is on her way to pick you up."
A few minutes later, I'm being carefully loaded into an Escalade limousine. Neon lights flash across the ceiling. As the driver pulls away from the hospital, my sister looks around and starts laughing.
"I think I overestimated the length of your leg," she says.
"I bet not many people are picked up from the hospital in a stretch limo. Where's the party?" I joke, but it comes off flat. The truth is, for once in my life, I'm in no mood to party. I'm pissed. Mad at the world. Mad at myself. Mad at my foot. I should be at the stadium right now, warming up in the bullpen, pumping the team up for Game Two.
As Palmer is getting me set up in front of the television in her family room, Tory shows up with bags full of take out.
"I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for, so I just bought it all," she says, setting out hot wings, sushi, burgers, onion rings, and barbecue sandwiches.
"It all looks amazing," I tell her, starting with the hot wings. "Thank you."
"I heard you had a lot of visitors today," Palmer says. "You need your rest."
"You sure you're okay with putting me up?" I ask.
"Of course, I am."
"And Bethany too?"
"Absolutely," Palmer says, but I know she doesn't care for her. And honestly, I probably shouldn't either. It's pretty obvious that she's more in love with my being a ball player than she is with me.
We flip on the game, chow down, and watch as my team loses without me.
October 30th
Palmer
I'm making lunch while Tory sits at the kitchen island, going over my calendar with me.
"So have you talked to Cade since the hospital?" she whispers.
"We've texted a bit. Nothing earth shattering. He mostly keeps checking in with me, asking if there's anything I need."
"What did you say to that?" she asks, her eyes getting strangely large.
I shrug as I throw cut-up veggies into a wok on the stove. "I don't remember. That you were taking care of getting the house ready, probably."
"For future reference, Palmer, when a man that scrumptious asks you if there's anything you need, your response should be: What I need is your cock in me. Now."
"Tory!" I scream-laugh. "You're so bad. I could never say that."
"Sure you could. Promise me. Next time someone asks you that, it will be your response."
I roll my eyes at her while I add cooked chicken and some teriyaki sauce to the stir fry.
"Okay, back to business," Tory says, reading from her list. "I'll let the grocery service know that you won't be in Tahoe this weekend, and I've already sent your regrets for the two industry events next week. We are rescheduling Kimmel and the magazine interview for later this month."
"Why are you rescheduling everything?" Pike asks, wheeling himself into the kitchen.
"Because I need to take care of you," I reply.
"I'm not a child, Palmer. I can take care of myself while you're gone. I just needed somewhere to stay. I don't need a nurse."
"I won't be able to focus on that stuff, knowing you're home by yourself."
Pike's phone buzzes. "Bethany is just pulling up. I won't be alone."
I turn the gas down and throw a lid over the stir fry.
"Oh, babycakes!" Bethany yells. I swear, when she's around the sound level goes up two decibels. "You're in a wheelchair! Will you ever be able to walk again?"
"I'm not paralyzed, Bethany. I just can't put weight on it. It's in a splint until the wound heals. Once that happens, they can put a cast on it, and I'll be able to use crutches to get around."
"What wound?" she asks.
Pike closes his eyes and takes a calming breath. You can tell his blood pressure has shot up in the few minutes she's been here. "If you would have been at the hospital with me, instead of at the game last night, you'd know the answer to that question," he huffs.
She drapes herself all over him. "Babycakes, I told you that I felt like one of us needed to be at the game. I had to go. Can you help me with this luggage?" She drops it in the entryway for him and wanders through the house.
"Your house isn't as grand as I thought it would be, Palmer," she says, as Tory and I grab the bags. "I guess it will have to do. The team left to go back to Florida this morning, so I got kicked out of my hotel room."
Tory gives the girl a glare.
Tory would scare me, but I don't think Bethany even catches on to the fact that in the three seconds she's been here, she's slammed my house, asked my wheelchair bound brother to fetch her bags, and complained about not being able to leave with the team.
Bethany goes through the kitchen and looks out the French doors to the backyard. "Well, at least you have a pool. What do you say, Pike, let's go for a swim."
"What part of he just broke three bones in his ankle and had surgery less than forty-eight hours ago and has numerous stitches don't you understand?" I ask the little bitch.
"Well, you don't need to get all huffy about it. Pike likes to see me in a bikini. If he can't swim, he can watch. Just because he's not valid, doesn't mean he has to sit inside all day."
"Not valid?" Pike asks, confused.
"I think she means invalid," Tory says, stifling a laugh.
"Same diff," Bethany says, waving her off. "I'm going to put on my bikini."
"Your suitcase is pretty small," I say to my brother. "What's in here?"
"Two suits to wear and some workout clothes. Not much."
"We're going to need to get you some things," Tory says. "What size are you?"
"Usually just a large. Like for workout shorts and T-shirts. That's all I'll need for a while. It's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon."
Tory gives me a pointed look, telling me that she'll be coming back with a full wardrobe and it will not include just shorts and T-shirts.
"And I'm serious," Pike says, "about you not cancelling your plans."
"Would you want to come up to Tahoe with me?"
"What were you going for?"
"I have some scripts to read for my production company. Thought it would be nice to go up there. I haven't been since this summer."
Pike shakes his head. "No, you go. It might be good for Bethany and I to have some alone time to discuss things."
"Like what?"
"I think her idea of my future and the reality of my future aren't quite in sync."
Bethany comes out of the bedroom wearing a leopard bikini with a thong bottom and a triangle top so small it barely covers her nipples. She grabs Pike's wheelchair and pushes him out to the courtyard.
"That woman is about as subtle as a wrecking ball," Tory says, shaking her head. "So what do you want me to do about your schedule?"
I dish up the stir fry. "Let's not cancel Tahoe just yet. Leave the rest."
She looks out at the courtyard, where Bethany is rubbing her thong against Pike, and shakes her head. "I think that's probably a wise decision."
October 31st
Pike
"Babycakes," Bethany says, waking me from my nap by tugging on my dick.
"Um, I'm supposed to stay immobile for a bit."
"So that's how it's going to be?" she smarts.
"For a few more days, yes. The doctor is coming by this afternoon to check on me. We'll see what he says."
"It's not like your dick's broken," she mutters. "Are you depressed? When I was at the bar with the team after the game, Craig told me that I should watch you for depression. That athletes often have a hard time dealing with an injury. I told him you'd be back at it in no time. He said you'll never play again. Is that true?"
"It's really too soon to tell," I mutter, wanting to go kick Craig's ass for even daring to say that out loud. Of course, out of all the guys on the team, she'd have to listen to the one who is the biggest prick.
The doorbell rings.
I glance at the clock. "That's probably the doctor," I say. "Go get dressed."
A few minutes later, Palmer brings the doctor to the bedroom.
"How are we feeling?" he asks. "Are you getting plenty of rest?"
"I just woke up from a nap, so yes."
"Let's unwrap it and take a look. We're most concerned about infection at this point, so you need to watch for that. Any sign of redness, increased swelling, or increased pain. Anything unusual, you call me right away."
"When can I get out of the wheelchair?"
"I figured you'd ask that. Not until the wound heals, which will take a week or two."
Bethany comes out of the bathroom fully dressed and made up.
"When will he be able to play baseball again?" she asks, plopping onto the bed and sending a wave of pain through my leg.
"Everyone heals differently, so I can't answer that question. He'll be able to return to normal activities once the bones are fully healed. Then he'll need some physical therapy to regain full movement and strength. It could take up to a year to regain full ankle function."
"A year?!" Bethany exclaims. "That's unacceptable."
"I'm afraid that's not for you to determine, Miss," the doctor says.
"Will he play baseball again?" she asks in desperation.
He studies my face then turns to her. "That is up to him."
After the doctor leaves, Bethany announces that she's going shopping.
"With my credit card?" I ask.
"Of course, with your credit card, Pike. It's your fault I'm stuck here."
Cade
"Your father is on line two," my assistant says from the intercom on my phone.
"Hey, Dad."
"Do you have any plans for Halloween tonight, Cade?"
"Not specifically, why?"
He lets out a huge breath. "Well, thank goodness. Could you please come over and hand out candy here?"
"Uh, sure. Why?"
"Your mother and I have a retirement party for a very dear friend of mine, and she won't go if no one is here to hand out candy. She says it's a tradition. And that woman is stubborn. It was fine until Chloe just informed us she won't be home. Your brother is out of town, and Ashlyn and Cash have plans. You're my last hope, son."
"Sure, Dad. I'll do it."
"I'm rewriting my will as we speak, and you're getting everything." Dad chuckles. "Actually, your mother says there will be chili and cornbread in the warming drawer for you."
"That sounds great. See you soon."
I hang up, press the intercom, and say to my assistant, "Can you cancel drinks tonight? I have a family thing."
"Sure thing, boss," she replies.
I push the contract I was going over to the side of my desk.
I can't stop thinking about Palmer.
I'm glad we're friends again, but I want us to be more.
I decide to go with the friendly route.
Me: Happy Halloween.
Palmer: You too. You trick or treating tonight?
Me: No, going to my parents to hand out candy. They have some event, and Mom was freaking out that no one would be there to answer the door. Carter is in Tampa for Game Three, Chloe has some party, and Cash and Ashlyn had plans, too.
Palmer: That sounds fun.
Me: Would you want to join me?
Palmer: I can't really leave Pike.
Me: I thought you said Bethany was there.
Palmer: If Bethany had her way, she'd have him swinging naked from my chandelier.
Me: Now that sounds like a party.
Palmer: Ugh.
Me: It's probably hard having both of them in your house.
Palmer: Pike's fine. She's driving me nuts.
Me: All the more reason to get out.
Palmer: Good point. I'll be there.
Pike
I'm sitting outside near the pool, trying to pretend I'm on vacation and not stuck here. It's only been a few days, but I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I'm not where I'm supposed to be. I'm pissed at myself for getting hurt. I'm pissed at Bethany's shitty attitude and the fact that she's out shopping.
I'm pissed at the fucking world.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Cameron: How's the invalid?
Me: Pretty shitty, honestly.
Cameron: I suppose being stuck in a wheelchair is driving you nuts. You're used to always being on the go.
Me: I'm going crazy.
Cameron: What did the doctor say about going out?
Me: It will be easier to go out once I have a cast.
Cameron: When I get back, let's do drinks. You can even bring the girlfriend. I promise I'll play nice.
Me: It's a date then.
My phone buzzes again. I expect it to be from Cameron, but it's from my catcher and good buddy, Rob.
Rob: I hate to tell you this while you're recouping, but that girl you've been seeing. . .
Me: What about her?
Rob: I've been trying to decide if I should tell you or not, after everything that's happened to you. But I think you should know. Just don't kill the messenger, okay?
Me: Who did she sleep with?
Rob: Craig.
I slam my phone down in outrage. That fucking little bitch.
I immediately call the credit card company and turn off the card I gave her for travel expenses. She never uses it for that, though. She mostly racks up big bills for clothing in every city we go to.
It's a good thing I'm in this wheelchair, or I'd fucking kill her. I momentarily envision knocking her to the ground and running over her repeatedly with the wheelchair. But who am I kidding? All that would do is piss her off.
A few minutes later, I get a text from her.
Bethany: Babycakes, my credit card isn't working. Can you call and fix it?
Needless to say, I don't reply.
Instead, I go inside and stew about it for nearly two hours until she comes storming into the house.
"I had all these amazing things picked out at Neiman's, and my credit card got declined! I sent you a text and told you to fix it. But you didn't!"
"I didn't see your text," I say flatly.
"Bullshit! I called the credit card company myself, and they said my card had been cancelled! How does that even happen? You should be outraged!"
"You could have just put it on your own card, if you needed it that bad."
"I couldn't afford it."
"You're right, you can't. And I'm sick of you spending my money."
"What the fuck is going on? Is it because I went shopping instead of sitting around here and waiting on you?"
"I would think if you cared about me, that's exactly where you'd want to be. And your card got declined because I cancelled it."
"Why the fuck would you do that?!"
"Why the fuck would you sleep with Craig?"
Her eyes get big. "Who told you that? Whoever did is lying! I would never--"
"Save me the lies, Bethany. Pack up your shit and get the fuck out."
"Fine. I don't want to be with a fucking washed up has-been. And that's exactly what Craig says you're going to be, because your career is over!"
She storms into the bedroom, tosses shit around, and then marches out the door with her suitcase.
I wheel myself into the kitchen to get a drink, slamming my leg into the wall on the way, which sends a shockwave of pain through my body, causing me to shudder.
"Fuck!" I yell, backing up, only to bump into a table behind me.
The table tips over, everything on it spiraling to the ground and breaking with a loud crash.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck this leg. Fuck this table. And fuck my fucking life!"
Palmer
I
walk into the house with a bounce in my step, carrying the candy I stopped and got on the way home from my studio meeting. I'm excited to see Cade. I know it's just handing out candy, but--
"Fuck!" I hear Pike yell out.
Then there's a loud crash and, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck this leg. Fuck this table. And fuck my fucking life!"
I run through the breezeway and into the kitchen, worried about him. I find him sitting in his wheelchair next to a tipped over decorative table, the vase that was on it shattered into pieces across the floor.
Pike's head is buried in his hands, and he's crying.
I put my hand to my chest, tears filling my eyes.
"Pike, are you okay?"
"No! I'm not fucking okay!" he cries. "I can't fucking move without running into something, and Bethany fucked my teammate."
"She what!?"
"She fucked my teammate, because he said I'd never play again. That I'd be a has-been."
I drop to my knees in front of him, not worrying about the glass. "Pike, you've had a long, successful career. No one will ever think of you that way, whether you play again or not."
"Why did this have to fucking happen to me? Why?"
"I don't know, Pike. But bad shit happens to people all the time. It's how you deal with it that shows the kind of man you are. And our father didn't raise you to feel sorry for yourself. He taught you to give back as much as you get."
"He'd be embarrassed to see me like this, wouldn't he?" he says, breaking down further.
"No, you're human. You were playing in the biggest game of your life. It's normal that you'd be upset. Who are you more upset with though, Bethany or your teammate?"
