One that might not include two of the most important things in my life.
Football.
And my wife.
*
Blue
The GPS is still running the route to West’s appointment through the speakers as I whip my truck into the parking lot of the youth center.
Three missed calls from Seth and another coming through at this very moment. I know he’s panicking, but his frantic calls won’t help me get inside any faster.
I know I have to hurry.
I know everything’s falling apart.
Leaving my purse on the front seat, I only grab my phone and keys before rushing inside. Rushing as much as possible in heels and a dress, anyway. My brain is in panic-mode as I stormthrough the center, heart in my throat because this is our first real emergency.
And an inspector showing up unannounced, threatening to shut down all work on site indefinitely, certainly qualifies as an emergency.
This isn’t how my day was supposed to go. I should be sitting in Dr. Graham’s office with West, finding out what the next steps are for his treatment. We haven’t spoken in weeks, and things are still about as imperfect between us as they can get, but I’d never let him face that alone.
However, I never imagined that decision would be completely out of my hands. But here I am, racing through the building hoping for a miracle.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
I hear voices as I approach the rec room, and based on the tone, things aren’t going well.
Perfect.
I step into the room, forcing a smile to at leastseemlike I’m not worried as I pass exposed studs, half demo’d floors, and workers awkwardly hanging around as they await instruction.
I lock eyes with Seth as he makes his way over to me, and that look on his face does nothing to comfort me.
“Thank God, you made it,” he whispers. “He’s trying to shut us down. Said he can’t talk next steps unless it’s with the owner.”
“Okay, so what’s going on?”
Seth’s response to my question is to jerk his chin toward the inspector, looking official in his hardhat and neon vest, clipboard in hand. He’s giving off an egregious amount of no-nonsense energy and looks like the definition of a hard-ass.
Perfect.
“Good morning. You must be Mrs. Golden?”
“I am.”
“I’m Jake. I appreciate you coming down on such short notice.”
“Sorry it took so long to get here. I was on my way to an appointment when I got the call and had to turn around.”
“Well, let’s take a look at what I found.”
I force another smile. “Of course.”
Jake leads the way, and as Seth and I trail behind him, we share a worried look. Jake stops at a wall that’s been opened up.
“We essentially have ourselves an electrical mess,” he explains. “Old aluminum wiring, some melted insulation, and a couple illegal splices. And this junction isabsolutelya fire hazard. None of this is up to code.”
