“Then you’re doing all you can, babe.”
I exhale, letting my shoulders fall. “I just want this kid to have a shot. He’s eight. He told me his favorite color is blue. Loves dinosaurs. Can name every mascot in the pro leagues. But now, our conversations revolve around him asking if he’s going to lose his leg.”
Her face shifts. “Carina…”
“I told him no,” I say softly, eyes locked on the frost-fogged window. “And I don’t know if that makes me a liar or an optimist.”
“It just makes you human.”
I shake my head. “That’s the part I’m not supposed to be. Not with this.”
“You’re allowed to be tired, and you’re allowed to care.” She reaches across the table, fingers curling around my wrist gently, her voice steady in a way mine hasn’t been for days. “You’re someone who hasn’t given up, not a liar.”
“Doesn’t make me honest, either.”
“It makes you someone who’s still holding the line, though.”
I press my thumb to the rim of my cup. “While standing there trying to convince an eight-year-old and his family that hope is a reasonable thing to have.”
“You believe it when you say it?”
I nod. “Most of the time.”
“That’s enough.”
My throat tightens, but I swallow it down. “I just… I wish I could control the outcome.”
“Carina,” she says softly. “You don’t have to control everything.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I just… I don’t like what happens when I don’t.”
I tip my head back and stare at the café ceiling for a moment, then bring my cup to my lips. My coffee’s gone cold, but I drink it anyway. My phone buzzes in my coat pocket, but I don’t reach for it. Across the room, someone drops a spoon. It clangs off the tile and startles a baby into crying.
Heidi clears her throat. “And Reid?”
I make a face. “What about him?”
“Just wondering how your favorite grumpy goalie is doing.”
“He’s not my favoriteanything.”
“Uh-huh. That explains the weird domestic vibe I walked in on during your last appointment with him.”
“He was struggling with his sock.”
“And gritting his teeth the entire time, probably pretending it didn’t hurt. So manly.”
I shrug. “He’s grumpy.”
“He’shuge.”
“And focused.”
She rests her chin in her hand. “And hot.”
