Every time I think about it, I’m so glad I was there. And in two more weeks, she’ll be here.
Instead of responding to Hailey—because nothing I can think to say would be at all appropriate—I look through my list of text messages. I want to talk to someone about this, but I’m not sure who the best person would be …
Would any of my friends on the team understand what I’m going through?
I dunno. Abernathy’s always good to talk to, but this is kind of a wild situation. Dozer? Or Bouchard? They’re both in stable relationships that started off kinda weird. Especially Bouchard. They weren’t even really dating for a while, though they let everyone think they were.
That’s probably the closest to my situation. After debating whether I should call, I start to type out a text, then think that might be worse and call him instead.
He picks up just as I’m sure it’s going to voicemail. “Chalmers? You okay, man?”
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“I dunno. You called me. I can’t think of a time you’veevercalled me. So I thought maybe you were in the hospital or something.”
“Oh, ha. No. No. Everything’s fine.”
“Okaaay. So? What’s going on? Are you staging an intervention for Jenkins or something?”
“What? No. Why? Does he need an intervention?”
“Not that I know of. Do you know something?”
“No.”
“Well, then why’d you call?” He sounds exasperated, and I hear a woman’s voice in the background.
“Look, I just …” Now that I’m on the phone, I’m not even sure how to start. So I go from the beginning. “So, uh, back in high school, my best friend died of a brain tumor.”
“Oh, shit. Jesus. That’s terrible. I’m sorry, man.”
“Yeah. Thanks. It was pretty awful, but that’s not the point right now. He had a little sister named Hailey, and before he died, he made me promise to look out for her.”
“Okaaay.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I lay it all out—how I barely kept in contact, how her car broke down in front of my parents’ house after delivering my food while I was home visiting, how that one stroke of bad luck meant that she wouldn’t be able to make money basically at all.
“That’s terrible, man. And her folks just checked out completely? What the fuck?”
Sighing, I nod. “Yeah. It’s pretty shitty, I agree. I know grief and loss affect people in different ways, and I can’t imagine losing a child.”
“Right. But they also had another child. Didn’t she deserve better?”
“Ithink so. Anyway, I invited her to come live with me. And, uh …” This is the part that I’m really hesitant to verbalize to anyone else. “Well, um, I said we should get married. That way, she’d have health insurance, and it would be easy to get her a credit card and …”
“Jesus, Jason.” His use of my first name stops me in my tracks more than anything else. My teammates almost never call me Jason. It’s always Chalmers. “You proposed? What’d she say?”
“Well, she’s going to be here in two weeks.”
“She said yes?!”
“Not … not exactly. She agreed to move out here, but she hasn’t agreed to marriage.”
He blows out a breath. “Well, that’s good at least.”
“How do you figure?”What the fuck?
“It means she’s not just after you for your money.”
