Page 86 of Hello Quarterback

Could he hear my molars grinding?

“And third of all, you don’t give up hope until you have all the information.”

“Dad, I’m just a few months away from the end of the season, and I’ve already been dealing with turf toe. It’s not looking good.”

He gave me a wry smile. “Miracles don’t require facts.”

I looked out my window, annoyed by his optimism.

“You’re thinking something,” he said. “Go ahead.”

I made myself look at him as I said it. “How can you believe in miracles when we needed one with Mom and she didn’t get one? It’s all chance.”

Dad was quiet for a moment, and all I could hear was the rush of wind outside the vehicle and some overplayed country song on the radio. I already wished I could take back the question.

I could feel myself being shitty. Earlier to Mia, now to my dad. It was like this angry snake had replaced my tongue, lashing out every time I opened my mouth. I didn’t know how to stop it. Which only made me feel worse. Weaker than before.

There was more patience in his voice than I deserved as he said, “Do you know how many people live their lives in marriages they hate? Resenting the person who lies in bed next to them?” He pressed his lips together, and when he spoke, his voice shook with emotion. “I loved your mom every day of her life, and Iknowshe loved me too until her very last breath. If you ask me, that’s a miracle.”

My throat felt tight. “You’re right, Dad. I’m glad you got a miracle. I’m just not sure I’ll get mine.”

48

MIA

I sat at my desk,poring over my presentation. I was supposed to have two more weeks to work on this. To come up with an angle proving that acquiring Andersen Avenue was the best choice for Griffen Industries.

But I didn’t have two weeks. I had one night.

And even one night wasn’t all that helpful because I kept checking my damn phone for a message from Ford.

I wanted to know if he was okay—if he’d heal or be out for the rest of the season.

Even though I’d taken a quick shower in the company gym, I could practically smell the silt of the stream, feel the coarse tangle of my hair slowly drying from its submersion in the murky water.

But even with all effects of the water washed away, Ford’s rejection lingered in my heart, pumping and spreading throughout my body, permeating every bit of me until reality hit me with each pulse.

Ford.

Is.

Gone.

It’s.

Over.

He.

Wanted.

Me.

To.

Leave.

And yet, some invisible vice wouldn’t let my worries go until I knew he was okay.

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