Change of Hart(8)

“So you know his mom?” I asked.

“Sort of,” Lindsay said, pausing as I heard what sounded like her taking a drink. Probably a large gulp of wine, knowing her. “She used to volunteer at the school once a week. She was super nice. From what I’ve pieced together in passing conversations, she went back to work over the summer. “

“Oh,” I said, lost in thought. My mind was kind of spinning as I thought about all the interactions I’d had with Jaxon and how much I enjoyed him. Was it weird that I kind of wanted to be friends with a little boy?

“Ok spill, Jay . . . what’s going on in your head?” Lindsay finally asked, cutting through the silence.

“This might sound really weird, Lin,” I started, “but I kind of want to spend some time with the kid. There’s something about him. He kept saying I’m his hero. And I have a chance to make a difference with him. That sounds kind of creepy, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I saw the way you two connected the other day. Spending some time with him might be a nice idea for both of you. It’s not much different than what Big Brothers/Big Sisters does.” I felt relieved that she didn’t think I was crazy. I also heard her take another drink.

“Uh, Lin, exactly how much wine are you going to drink while I’m on the phone with you?” I joked.

“Shut up. The glass isn’t that big. And I’m thirsty. So,” she said, switching gears. “I’m assuming you’re needing my help to set this whole shindig up.”

“Shindig?” I asked. “Are you sure the glass isn’t that big?”

“Ohmygod, stay focused!” Lindsay admonished. “What do you need me to do?”

I chuckled. “Ok, ok. Focused. Do you think you can get in touch with Jaxon’s mom? Maybe have her call me?”

“You want me to give a strange woman your phone number?” Lindsay asked, mock concern in her voice.

“Ok really, lay off the sauce, babe.” She snorted. “And yes, give this particular strange woman my phone number. And tell her I’m wanting to invite her and Jaxon for a personal tour of the stadium. If I’m gonna spend some time with her kid, I probably need to start off by showing her I’m not a scary guy with lots of things to hide.”

“True,” she said. “Ok. I’ll call her on Monday and give her your number.”

“Thanks,” I said as I turned left onto my street, heading for my parking garage. “And Lindsay?”

“Yes?” she asked cautiously.

“No more refills on that big-ass glass I know you’re holding, ok?”

She huffed and, I assumed, rolled her eyes at me. “Watch yourself, Hart. String cheese and hot dogs only come in so many different flavors.”

I laughed as I pulled into a parking space. “Ok, ok. I’ll talk to you next week.”

“Enjoy all those processed foods,” she said.

“And you enjoy all those recorders,” I replied.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she said. And hung up.





It was Monday afternoon and Deuce and I were at the gym. Because, well, where else are we going to be?

“I feel like I have a brick sitting in my stomach,” I complained as I squatted to the floor with the bar securely resting on my shoulders. It wasn’t the heaviest weight I could squat. But after last night, I had to take it a little bit easy so I didn’t spew all over the gym floor.

“Quit your bitchin’,” Deuce said, still not counting my reps. “You know you loved every bit of my wife’s cooking.”

“Twenty,” I grunted and walked forward, dropping the bar on the rack. “Oh, I didn’t say I didn’t love it. It just likes to hang around for a while after I eat it.”

“Or,” he argued as he settled himself under the bar and stood up. “It could be that you ate, what, four servings of her mama’s famous enchiladas? Who does that?”

As he squatted down, my phone started ringing in my pocket. It usually stayed in my locker during my workout, but I knew Lindsay was calling Jaxon’s mom today and I didn’t want to miss her call. That is, if she called.

I looked at the screen and didn’t recognize the number. As much as I wanted to answer, I couldn’t exactly leave Deuce alone with four hundred pounds on his back. I shoved the phone back in my pocket and waited for Deuce to get done. Just as he finished, I heard the beep telling me I had a new voicemail.

“Why the hell do you have your phone with you?” Deuce asked as he grabbed his water bottle and popped the top open.

“I’m waiting for a call,” I said absentmindedly as I punched in the code on the screen and lifted the phone to my ear.