“He opened the baby gate by himself yesterday. Katelyn cried. I was impressed.”
I adjust Juniper on my lap. She’s given up on the phone and is turning my watch strap over in her hands, pulling at the clasp. Maverick reaches for the phone. I turn it so Harrison can see him.
“Maverick, my man. Give gramps a high five.”
Nothing happens except more babbling.
“Where’s Jace?”
“Ear infection,” I tell him as I turn the phone back to me. “Nick’s got rounds so they took him over to the hospital instead of waiting for Dr. Frenemy to get home.”
“Dr. Frenemy?”
I lift one shoulder. “He’s a friend but still my enemy and you know what they say.”
Harrison laughs. “What’s up. You look stressed.”
“I am, sort of. There’s something I want to run by you and JD.”
“Let’s call him.”
Harrison exits the screen and then he’s back. We wait for JD to pick up. Harrison shifts and I catch the wince before he can hide it. His left shoulder dips. His right hand moves to the meat of the muscle above his collarbone, pressing hard, holding, then letting go. I recognize the gesture. I’ve been doing versions ofit for years now, that small acknowledgment of a body keeping score.
“Your shoulder,” I say.
“It’s fine.”
“You winced.”
“I’m old. Everything makes me winces.”
He drops his hand. I don’t push it. I’ve watched Harrison play through cracked ribs, a torn rotator cuff, a stomach flu that had him throwing up between songs. He won’t bring it up, and I won’t force it. Not on a phone.
JD’s face appears in a second window on the screen. He’s outdoors, squinting against the California sun, earbuds in. Behind him I can see the glass wall of a gym. Inside, through the glare, a figure moves on a balance platform.
“Sorry, lads. She’s in the middle of her core rotation with Xander.” JD tips his phone toward the gym window. “See that? That’s my daughter. Ranked third in the world. Third. In the whole bloody world.”
“We know,” Harrison says. “You’ve mentioned it.”
“I’ll mention it every day until she’s first.”
Eden is deep in her Olympic preparation. JD has talked about little else for the past three months. She trains with Xander, Harrison’s brother-in-law, six days a week.
“Listen,” I say. “I need to tell you both about a thing.”
They go quiet. On screen, Harrison picks up a mug. JD glances over his shoulder at the gym, then back.
I tell them about Bex, about the pitch, and what The Love Line with Liam would be. “She came prepared,” I tell them. “She knew everything about me. Josie thinks I should consider it.” I forget to mention I already told Bex no.
Harrison drinks from his mug and sets it down. “Could be cool.”
“You think?”
“You’d be home more. Maybe that’s not a bad thing.” He pauses. His eyes move to the right, and I know he’s looking at where Katelyn and Oliver are. “Maybe we all need to be home more.”
I hear what he’s saying. I hear what he’s not saying too.
“JD?”
