Accept the captaincy. Re-enrol at uni. Find a way to tell Cheryl you’ll never let her down again and pay for her mum’s care.
He sat back on the couch feeling dazed. Could it really be that easy?
Yes, if he didn’t focus on the unknowns. Like how he might be such a shitty captain he’d get sacked after a single season. Like how he might qualify as a psychologist and fuck a kid up so badly, they didn’t survive. Like how his brothers might stop talking to him if he told them to back off and actually meant it. Like how Cheryl might hate him for throwing his money around like he thought he was better than her.
How could he do something when it could ruin everything?
I wouldn’t say it’s going well right now. Would you?
Derek’s voice. Derek at the yacht party telling him to leave nothing on the bench. Well, he hadn’t done that. Hadn’t listened to his idol when he said he needed to give this everything he had. Of course, he hadn’t known that it would take so much. He’d thought he just had to be honest about his feelings, not dismantle the networks that underlaid his entire personality. But maybe it had to be that way. After all, wasn’t Cheryl worth it?
He remembered her luminous brown eyes in the hotel bed. ‘You’re a superstar and you owe it to yourself to shine.’
He could do something. Throw his weight around. Use every ounce of strength he had to make Cheryl’s life better. Even if she stopped loving him. Even if she spent the rest of her life grinding her ass into strangers’ laps. Because Eden was right, life had been so fucking unfair to her.
“But that stops now,” he said aloud.
He got up early, found an old exercise book, and started writing things down. An hour later he had a plan. He hesitated, then decided to lean into the awkwardness and under the headline he wrote, ‘No one can do this better than me.’
He got to work. He couldn’t call Wheelers Hill until nine so he left that for later and did the easiest thing first; re-enroling at uni. A single phone call and two online forms and he was on to go part-time at Monash next year. The most embarrassing part of his plan was changing his name in the Normal family group chat from ‘Youngest’ to ‘Patrick.’
Dom noticed right away.
Think you’re all grown up now, Youngest?
He wanted to take it back but he didn’t.
That’s what your wife keeps saying. Could you have a word to her, actually? The vids are getting inappropriate.
Martin and Jase laugh-reacted and his mum weighed in.
Behave, boys. Of course, you can change your name, PATRICK!
She put his name in lightning emojis, which was cringe as fuck but also sweet. And then he’d done it. Showed what he wanted from his family. Drawn a line in the sand.
He rang Mick from the Sharks and left a voicemail when he didn’t pick up.
“Sorry for the late response but I want to be the captain next year if you’ll have me. Let me know about next steps and thanks again. This is a fucking dream come true.”
He felt bad for swearing but he had a feeling Mick wouldn’t mind. Captain fucking Normal. It sounded like a Superman parody, but fuck it. Superman might not be a badass like Batman or funny like Deadpool, but he was the strongest by a million miles. A nice dude who loved helping people and banging his hot news reporter wife. Why not be Superman?
He called his agent and when she didn’t pick up, his financial advisor. Gianna was horrified that he wanted to unlock a million dollars in investments, but he wasn’t asking, he was telling. It took ten minutes for her to get things moving and when he let slip what the money was for, she stopped bitching.
“That’s amazing,” she gushed. “So bloody amazing!”
“It’s not, but thanks for your help.”
The hospice transferred him from office to office until he got to the admissions administrator. He’d come ready to jump through hoops, but paying for Ms Walker’s care was way easier than he expected. Ms Sharon Walker had an existing client account with Wheelers Hill, and he transferred the two hundred grand he already had in savings to it in under a minute.
He and the chipper administrator then set up a payment plan for fifty-two weeks of service, with a scheduled auto renewal when the twelve months were up. The only issue came at the end of the call.
“What is your relationship to Ms Walker?” the administrator asked.
“Uh, h-how come?” Patrick stammered.
“I need to put it on the form.” The administrator paused. “Family members are approved to make contributions without in-person signatures but if you’re a friend or a well-wisher…?”
“Oh…” Patrick thought quickly. “I’m her son-in-law. I’m married to her daughter, Cheryl Karalis-Walker?”
