“You shouldn’t add salt, Walter. I’ll tell Dr. Shae on you,” Rio said, taking a bite.
Walter waved a dismissive hand at the mention of the doctor. “What did yours say today?” he turned to me.
A half-compliment plus recalling I had a doctor’s appointment—Walter was starting to defrost. “That I have a good chance if I do everything he says. You should do what yours says, too.” I smirked at him.
“What do they know?” he sneered.
“The good ones know a lot. With enough physiotherapy and recovery techniques, I’ll be good as new.” I might have embellished it, but just a little. I could be a cruise missile when I wanted something, homing in on my target until I got it. That was how I made it all the way up to the top league, and I wanted to believe I could beat this injury, too.
“They say it’s a career-ending injury at your age and with the number of past ones you already sustained,” Walter said dryly.
“I know what they say,” I replied in the same tone.
Rio was looking between us, but at this point she lowered her gaze to her plate, her fork hovering over it.
“What?” It came out more sudden than I meant to sound. Somehow, Walter’s disbelief didn’t rattle me as much as her inability to look at me at that moment.
She lifted her eyes to me. “What?” she retorted.
“I know what the media says, I know whatyouthink.” I looked at them both, almost begging them to be on my side, to hang on to hope with me. I couldn’t fail.
“I don’t think anything, Owen. I don’t know enough about these things to form an opinion.” Rio replied, her eyes soft, too soft now, as if she was feeling sorry for me. Why did it hurt more than my knee did?
“I know all about doctors and hospitals,” Walter took an unconcerned bite.
“From your days in the IRS?” I smiled. I wanted to intercept the tension. I needed to put their niggling doubts to rest. Football was the only thing I could do for a living, the one thing I never failed in. Relationships—with the exception of Simon—I failed in left, right, and center. Evenwith Simon—I kept a secret from him, I wasn’t there for him on a day-to-day basis. And my grandfather, too. His treatment of me was evidence of my failure.
“No, from being old and infirm,” Walter replied.
The scowl on his face indicated that he was aware of his own exaggeration but hoped it’d go unnoticed. But Rio and I burst out laughing.
“You might be old, but you’re not infirm, Grandpa. Your doctor said you’ll live to be a hundred.”
“How much did you pay him to say that?” he countered.
I laughed again. “I love you, Grandpa. Even when you’re exasperating.” I put my palm on his shoulder.
To my surprise, he briefly put his hand on mine.
Hope.
“How about Scrabble?” I offered.
“Another time,” Walter replied.
He pushed his empty plate, got up, and went to his room.
“Too soon?” I asked, looking at Rio.
She scrunched her nose and mouth to the side in anI’m sorry.
“Wanna do something?”
“Sorry.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m meeting a friend.”
Male or female, I wanted to ask but didn’t. It was none of my business. Or should have been.
She left soon after, a flash of green passed by the kitchen window as her car drove out the back.
