Page 45 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

“You and Aunt Joss seem to collect those.”

A quiet second passes between us. The waiting room drifts into the background along with all of the noise as she looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time all over again.

“Luce!” Joss calls, waving us over as a nurse appears and tells us family can come back. “You and Mr. Football coming?”

Lucy stops short.

“You’re about to meet my parents,” she says quietly. “Right now.”

“I think I am.”

“In a hospital.”

“Yes.”

“I…” Lucy trails off, apprehension clouding her expression.

I reach for her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “It’s going to be okay.”

Her palm is damp against mine as we follow Aunt Joss and a nurse down the narrow hallway. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, flickering just enough to make my stomach knot. Every step toward Violet’s room makes Lucy’s grip tighten.

Just before the door, she stops and draws in a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling. I don’t let go.

She nods once, then pushes the door open, pulling me in with her.

The first thing I notice is her dad.

He’s seated beside the hospital bed, his posture stiff, hands clasped together like he’s holding himself upright through sheer force of will. His hair is the same vivid red as Lucy’s, though threaded with gray, and when he looks up, I see exhaustion etched into his features.

“Dad?” Lucy says softly.

He stands immediately. “Lu-Lu Bear,” he says, his voice gentle despite the tension. Then his eyes flick to me. “You have a friend.”

Lucy’s grip on my hand loosens just a little. “Uh—Dad, this is Dylan. Dylan, this is my dad. Thad Bennett.”

I start to offer my hand, then stop when I realize how tightly Mr. Bennett is holding himself together. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Before I can say anything else, a voice from the bed cuts in.

“Dylan?”

I turn.

Lucy’s mom is curled slightly on her side, pale but awake, her eyes alert despite an IV taped to her arm.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say automatically.

She lets out a weak laugh. “I’m far too young to be ma’am. Call me Violet.”

“Hi, Violet,” I say as Lucy moves quickly to her side.

“Are you okay?” Lucy asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, her voice rough. “What’s happening?”

“The scan showed inflammation,” her dad says. “They think it might be an intestinal infection, but they’re waiting on bloodwork before they know more.”

Lucy’s breath catches. “H-how bad is that?”

“I’m fine,” Violet says firmly, squeezing Lucy’s hand. “I’m going to be just fine.”