“Why are you whispering?” he asked, doing his best to hide his disappointment.
“I’m in the closet. I don’t want Maisy to know I called you.”
Chase’s heart sank, as if weighed down with concrete. “I see. Is everything okay?”
“I fell off my bike and broke my arm.”
“Oh Patrick, I’m so sorry.” Chase had had a broken leg as a kid and could sympathize. His broken bone was the worst pain he could remember.
“It hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe. I screamed and screamed, and Mom heard me and came running out of the house. My arm was twisted all wrong and I was scared, like really scared that I was going to die.”
“Was Maisy there?” he asked, starving for word about her.
“No. She was at school. Mom called nine-one-one. The EMT gave me a shot because something bad was happening. Mom told Maisy I was going into shock. I don’t know what that means, other than it hurt so much I couldn’t breathe, but I was breathing, but everything was weird. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I’m grateful your mom was there.”
“Me, too. I couldn’t even move,” Patrick explained. “I tried, but every time I tried the pain got even worse. Mom didn’t scream when she saw my arm or anything. But when Maisy camehome, Mom started to cry. Maisy hugged her and then made dinner so Mom could sit with me.”
Although he sympathized with Patrick, he was happy to hear about the family. He admired how they pulled together in a crisis, one helping another.
“After the medic gave me the shot, I wanted to talk but couldn’t.”
“How come?” This didn’t sound right. Maisy’s little brother was constantly full of chatter.
“I got sleepy and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I even slept through dinner, and it’s Wednesday.”
“Meatloaf night.”
“And that’s my favorite, along with spaghetti, but we don’t have that every week like meatloaf.”
“I bet your mom put some dinner aside for you.” Knowing Sophie, she’d make sure Patrick didn’t miss out on his favorite meal.
“She did, but I wanted to call you first while Maisy’s busy in the kitchen, because she’d be mad if she found me using her phone.”
It was heartwarming that talking to Chase was more important to Patrick than his favorite dinner.
“Oh, guess what, Sean and Katie bought me baseball cards and balloons. They said it would cheer me up, and it did.”
“That was thoughtful of them.”
A short silence followed. “Chase?”
“Yes, Patrick?”
“Are we going to ever see you again?” The youth’s voice was low and pleading.
Chase closed his eyes as he considered his answer. “I don’t know, sport.”
“I think we should. Maisy is sad all the time, and I was thinking that if you felt sorry for me with my broken arm you might come see us and kiss Maisy so she wouldn’t be so sad anymore.”
“I wish it was that simple,” Chase told the boy.
Patrick sighed. “I don’t understand adults.”
The thing was, Chase didn’t, either.
Chapter Thirty-two
