Touching Down(71)

My second cup of coffee had been cold for a while when I heard little feet pad up behind me.

“Are you cold, Mom? I brought a blanket.”

Sitting up in the lounger, I looked back at my daughter in her solar system pajamas, her hair still a mess and her eyes sleepy-looking.

“Exactly what I needed.” I patted my lap and took a breath, bringing every scrap of courage I had to the surface. “I need to talk with you about something.”

Charlie moved closer a bit hesitantly. “About what happened to you at the game?”

A smile touched my mouth. “Yes.”

“Are you sick?” She sniffed, dragging the blanket she’d brought out to keep me warm.

My smile didn’t falter. I couldn’t let it. My daughter deserved my strength, all of it. My weakness could have its way with me when I was alone, but not with Charlie. She’d need to see my strength through this to know it was possible. To know she was capable of the same.

“Yes,” I answered, opening my arms.

She sniffed again, a tear spilling out the corner of her eye. “Are you going to die?”

My smile didn’t break, despite everything else inside me feeling as though it were shattering. “Yes.” I took her hand and pulled her closer, looking her in the eye. “But I’m going to live every day until then.”





CHARLIE’S AND MY talk had gone through breakfast and straight into lunch. She’d gotten her tears out early, but her questions hadn’t stopped until we’d finished the last bite of the pizza we’d ordered for lunch.

It was a memory I’d never forget, images I’d take with me to the hereafter. Charlie’s innocent tears, her endless questions, her boundless strength, the spot of pizza sauce on her nose when she’d asked me if I was scared of dying. I’d cherish every last second of it.

Grant had texted me earlier to let me know he wouldn’t be home until after dinner since he had to pull an extra weight session after practice. After my talk with Charlie, I’d decided today was a good day to get everything off of my chest at once.

That was why I was in a cab heading for Storm Stadium. Since Charlie’s and my talk had gone so late into the day, she was still at home with Mrs. Kent, going through some school work, and I’d told them to have dinner without me. I guessed this conversation would take as long as Charlie’s and mine had. Probably longer.

A guard was waiting for me at one of the entrances, so after paying the cab fare, I followed the guard through the door and down a long hall.

“Mr. Turner’s right this way, ma’am.”

When the guard slowed his pace to match mine, I realized how slowly I’d been walking. Like each step, I was fighting through mud. When he stopped in front of a doorway, he waved at someone inside.

“Thanks, Al. I appreciate you escorting her in.” Grant’s voice echoed out into the hall.

“What a pretty girl like this is doing with a sorry excuse like you is beyond me.” Al shook his head good-naturedly, stepping aside to let me pass into the room.

The moment I was in the room, Grant’s eyes latched onto me through the mirror he was standing in front of, a loaded barbell resting on his shoulders. “Beyond us both.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at Al before he waved and disappeared down the hall.

Grant’s brow lifted before he squatted low, releasing a hard breath when he righted himself. From the looks of the barbell, he was probably squatting close to three of me.

“Got tired of waiting for me?” he asked with a roguish look on his face before squatting again.

“Just checking up on you. Making sure you aren’t slacking.” I moved farther into the room, not missing how the scent of Grant’s sweat was already affecting me.

“Yeah, well, it’s about killing me to get this last set out, but I’m finishing it no matter what. I’ve never given up on a workout before and damned if today’s the day I’ll start.” Lowering again, his eyes went to the ceiling, all of his muscles priming as he popped off another rep.

“Well, you were up all night messing around.” Grabbing a fresh towel from a shelf, I moved closer. He was drenched with sweat, droplets of it even running off of his hair.

“Vigorously messing around.”

I paused while he burned out a couple more reps, then he racked the barbell and turned around.

“Lots of great equipment in here. Sturdy equipment made for taking abuse.” He lifted his chin at a machine that looked like a person was supposed to bend over it and get some kind of workout, I guessed. From the look on Grant’s face, his plans had more to do with working me over instead.