Page 76 of Clear Shot
“She knows about that.”
“Yes, but I’m certain you haven’t had an episode yet.”
“No.”
“Just keep in mind you’ve lived with it your whole life—she hasn’t.”
“I will. Thanks.”
We talk for another minute before I head to my own room.
Since I’m thinking about her anyway—and I now know she wears a size eight shoe—I call her.
“Hey.” She sounds funny and I’m immediately worried.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Oh, no big deal. Just an upset stomach. I took some antacids and I’m resting.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“It’s okay.”
“You want me to let you go?”
“No. Talk to me. How was the trip?”
“Nice and easy.”
“Game tomorrow night?”
“Yeah. Then we’ll head to Phoenix and Salt Lake City.”
“This is a long trip. Eleven days.”
“Yeah, they load up the West Coast games sometimes, but other times, it’s just two or three days.”
“By the time you get back, it will be time to close on the house!”
“Yup.”
“The new bedroom furniture is scheduled to arrive the day after Thanksgiving so we’ll only have two nights without a bed.”
“Are you working on the kitchen?”
“I am. Claudia and I did some damage at Williams-Sonoma today.”
“Good. Get whatever you think we’ll need. Most of my shit was hand-me-downs from my married teammates and stuff anyway.”
“Yes. I found some very questionable items in the box we packed up from the apartment.”
I laugh. “Just throw it away. Seriously.”
“Already done.” She makes a weird sound.
“Babe?”
“Ugh. I don’t think the antacids are working. I just burped and it felt like I might… well, you know.”
