The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel

“She should be back from the CAT scan in a few minutes if you’d like to see her. Results should come back pretty quickly after that.”

“We’d like to see her. Thank you.”

The doctor stood. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news. Why don’t you stay in here, and I’ll have a nurse grab you when she’s back?”

The tiny room felt smaller with one less body. Brody ran his hands through his hair. “You okay?”

“I think so.” My delivery was less than convincing. It was hard to sound believable when you didn’t even believe your own words.

Two fingers slipped under my chin and tilted my head up. “Let’s not think the worst. We’re going to think positive. That’s what Marlene would be doing.”

***

I stared out the hospital window, watching the sun slowly rise on the horizon. So simple. So magnificent. Yet I’d spent years not even noticing it or paying any attention. Even in my darkest hours, I’d counted on the sun rising the next morning. Not unlike the two people sleeping in the room.

After a few minutes, I peeled my eyes away from the beauty outside and looked over at the rest of my world. The only things I’d ever known for sure in my life were that the sun would shine again and that these two would be there for me. Now nothing was certain except for that sunrise.

Grams was sleeping, a dozen tubes connected to her, the sound of the ventilator sucking the air out of her lungs and hissing new life in joined by the rhythmic beeping of her monitor. She’d made it through the night, which was more than the doctor initially thought would happen. Now it was a matter of time until they could repeat the CAT scan and see if the bleeding had stopped.

My watery eyes fell on the man sleeping next to my grandmother. Brody had finally dozed off an hour or so ago, sitting up in a padded chair. I told him he could go, head home and get some rest for at least a few hours, and I would stay. But he never even considered it. Grams had always been like family to him. After his mom died of cancer when he was only seven, Grams had filled the matriarchal void in his life. She was always there for him. And he, in turn, had been the only reliable person in her life after Pop Pop had died.

Women had always loved Brody. With his undeniable good looks, physique of the professional athlete that he is and stature as one of America’s most admired quarterbacks, there wasn’t much not to like. Add a heaping dose of confidence and the ability to make a woman feel like she was the only person in the room, and it was no wonder women literally chased after him. But the thing that makes him a man who was impossible to get over is exactly who he was right now. The most devoted person I’ve ever known. When the man loves, he loves hard, nothing stood in his way.

God, I would have given anything to have my old life back again. To turn back time so I could appreciate everything I had, rather than throw it all away. I deserved to be the one sitting in that bed, not Grams.

I spent the next hour mindlessly fiddling with my necklace, watching the two people I cared about most in the world, and falling in love with them all over again. When Brody’s eyes fluttered open and found me sitting across the room, our gazes locked for a long moment. I saw the moment he gave in. He might hate me down deep, but he was letting go of his anger. For now at least.

“How is she?” he asked.

“The same.”

“How long was I sleeping for?”

“Two hours, maybe.”

“You sleep at all?”

“Not yet.”

He stretched out in the chair, arms reaching up and neck going from side to side. “Why don’t you go home? Get some sleep. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“I want to stay.”

It looked like he was going to say something but then changed his mind. Instead, he just nodded.

“Still drink sugar with some coffee in it?” He stood.

“I do. Still drink it black and disgusting?”

He chuckled. “I’ll go find us some.”

Things between Brody and I relaxed a lot more after that. We weren’t best friends again, but I also didn’t feel like he was shooting an imaginary bow and arrow, with my forehead as the target.

“How long has she been in Broadhollow Manor?”

“A little over three years.”

I nodded. I had no idea how long it had been since I’d seen the two of them. Years of my life had been wasted and gone. The screwed-up thing was, now that I was sober, it felt like the world had stood still for me. I’d aged, but life had never progressed. It was as if I were picking up after pushing pause on my life for a long time. The thing was, my life had been the only thing paused. The world had gone on around me.

Brody and I made small talk while we kept vigil. It was better than the silent treatment, although there were so many meaningful things I needed to say that I still didn’t have the courage to speak. When the nurse came in a few hours later and asked us to step out for a little while so she could wash Grams and take her vitals, Brody and I headed to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. We wandered into a gift shop first.

“You need anything?” He had a baseball cap in his hand.

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