Ambrose's gaze roams the group of four staring back at him. "No Vivi?" he asks.
"She's prepping dinner service," Daisy says. "But I'm sure she'll be bummed to know she missed you."
"I thought you should hear it from me, instead of ESPN. I hurt my knee in practice this week, and?—"
Daisy gasps. "Nooo, Ambrose."
"Dude," Hugo says, but with a tone ofoh no.
"Fuck," Penn murmurs. "How bad?"
Ambrose sighs. "Pretty bad, unfortunately. Torn ACL. Ligament damage. Meniscus, too. I'm looking at a surgery for sure, I just don't know when. I'm seeing an orthopedic surgeon in Phoenix in a couple weeks. Once that happens, I'll know more."
"You'll be convalescing...here?" Hugo's eyebrows are raised, hopeful.
"Why?" Ambrose asks. "You want to wait on me hand and foot?"
Hugo laughs. "My bedside manner is impeccable."
Our food arrives, and Ambrose says goodbye.
"He's in the NFL, right?" I ask, popping a fry in my mouth.
"Linebacker," Daisy says.
"Ohh, so that's why his shoulders took up most of the screen."
Daisy laughs. "All through school the teachers called himGentle Giant."
"Until he got on the football field, anyway." A worried look pulls at Hugo's features. "I wonder what this injury will do to his career?"
Penn wipes his mouth with his napkin. "Good job, bud. Way to think positive."
As the group chats, I glance out across the green lawn, toward the desert beyond. It's almost beautiful, except for a break in the spindly palo verde trees. One is dead, the green a sad, dried out gray-brown, and up through it grows a saguaro that hasn't yet developed limbs. The younger cactus stands tall, looking out of place.
"Did you spot a coyote?" Hugo teases me, gazing out where I'm looking.
"Just that dead tree with the saguaro growing up through it. Only that tree is dead when all the others around it are thriving. It's odd."
"I don't make it a habit to know the history of the local cacti," Penn says, "but I did overhear Margaret talking about the way a rogue Saguaro was growing up under theshade of a palo verde, only to eventually rob the tree of the rainwater and nutrients in the soil."
I stir my straw in my iced tea, thinking this over. "It killed the host."
"Exactly," Penn nods. "Saguaros are federally protected, so it's not like anybody's going out there with a machete and hacking it down."
"Saguaros can be moved," Daisy chimes in. "Carefully though, keeping their roots intact, and they have to go to a new home in the ground."
I stare out at the crestfallen limbs, the way the cactus stands proud. It seems so wrong, the way the cactus was in the shade stealing from the only reason it was able to live there. The guest choked the host.
And then it hits me.
"Hugo," I grip his arm.
His carefree expression is wiped away by my alarm. "Are you ok? Is Peanut ok?"
"We're fine," I assure him, loving the way he checks on the two of us. "How was your dad at keeping records?"
"Not sure. Why?" His dark eyes narrow. Across the table, Penn and Daisy lean forward.
