“My shoulder hurts. I’ll go back downstairs and get the prescriptions I brought home.” She started to sit up and he said, “No, Mom, I can handle it. You rest. Do you need me to get that blanket over there for you?” He nodded at the folded throw that usually hung over the back of an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room.
“I’d like that, honey.”
He could get the blanket just fine and bring it back to her, but spreading it over her was a different story with one usable hand.
“This is harder than I thought,” he said after struggling with it for a minute or so.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said. She managed to toss the blanket over her legs and said, “Why don’t you relax here with me for a few minutes?”
“Sure, Mom.” Maybe he’d retreat to the big chair in the corner. He was surprisingly tired after doing nothing more strenuous than riding around in a car and eating a cheeseburger. Maybe he could get a cat nap while his mom rested.
His cell phone rang.
He reached in, pulled it out, and noted it was the Sharks’ headquarters. He clicked on “talk.” He hit “speaker” so his mom could hear.
“Hey, Drew, how are you feeling?” Coach Stewart said. “I’m here with the coaches and the conditioning staff. We’re wondering how the trip home went.”
“Thanks for calling. It’s nice to hear from you guys. As far as the trip home, everything’s fine and I’ll be taking some painkillers in a little while.”
He heard some male chuckling in the background and the coach said, “They’ll actually help you heal faster. We understand the home health care nurse will be at your house tomorrow to help you with whatever you need.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re probably wondering why else we’re calling,” the coach said. “Drew, we have every hope you’re going to recover from this and come back even stronger and ready to play by next season, but we’re putting you on IR today. I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else but me.” He saw his mom put a hand over her mouth. Tears rose in her eyes. He had to look away; if he saw his mom’s tears, he couldn’t get through this. “The guys miss you already and are looking forward to your being here to rehab and run as soon as possible.”
He heard one of the trainers in the background. “The minute we get a sign-off from your doctor, we’ll be in the training room with you. We’re going to work you hard, but you’ll be ready. We promise.”
Drew swallowed past the gigantic lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”
“If you have questions or you need anything, please call us. We’ll be checking in on you, also. We’ll get through this together,” the coach said.
Drew knew he was still speaking. He made what must have sounded like the correct comments about motivation and not letting this thing beat him. A few minutes later, they hung up and he sat numbly, phone still clutched in his hand.
His mom sat up and gingerly wrapped her arms around him. He felt her tears falling on his good shoulder as he slipped one arm around her. His phone fell into the bedclothes.
KENDALL FELT THE cold fist of dread in her stomach as she walked into the Miners’ offices. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Today would be (hopefully) mostly mopping up from the day before yesterday’s press conference. She also would be expected to observe the workouts of the three players brought in by the new director of football personnel. She’d expected all hell to break loose when she fired Ron, but so far, her e-mail and voicemail had been remarkably quiet.
It was early. There were plenty of chances for things to go to hell in a hand basket.
When she wasn’t dwelling on the thousand and one things that needed to get done today, she was still thinking about Drew. It was all she could do to not curl up in the airline seat like a wounded animal and cry. She was asleep last night when her head hit the pillow, and this morning, she had to face the facts: If she was in his shoes, she’d be pissed. She’d more or less shown him that a job was more important to her than anyone or anything else in her life, and if she really cared about him, she would act like it.
He shouldn’t have hung up the phone on her, but she got why he did it. She owed him an apology, but he owed her one too.
She’d wanted to get an early start this morning. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor of the corridor outside of her office. It was seven AM, and her office door was ajar. The light was on\. Who the hell would be in her office at seven? Sydney wasn’t usually in until after ten AM each morning due to her class schedule.