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“Yes, it would be. Thing is, once the press latches on to an idea, they might run with it, until it blows up in my face. Next thing you know I’m on TMZ with a headline reading ‘Grand Slam Champ Forced to Retire Due to Bigfoot Love Triangle, or some other stupid shit.’ Trust me, I’d rather relax instead of having to figure out a way of getting past those vultures.”
Chip nodded, then went in search of a doctor.
“It’s what I think it is, isn’t it?” Dixie took his hand in hers, and shook her head.
“Yeah.”
“I hate to beat a dead horse, and you told me to mind my own business a long time ago, but I’ve got to say it. If you’d been honest from the start, none of this would be such a big deal.” She squeezed his hand.
“There’s too many ‘what if’s’ to think about. All I know is, the press is the enemy, and the less I have to do with them, the better. They’ll take this accident and figure out I’m seeing a shrink, then they’ll wonder why, so they’ll dig into my past. No way in hell I’m letting that happen.”
Chip walked in and stood by Tyler’s side, a concerned look on his face.
“I found a doctor, but I also found a Cable Sports Network reporter outside the unit. There are at least a dozen people with cameras walking around. I’m pretty sure the doctor will release you, but how the hell are we getting you outta here without being caught?”
Chapter Four
Chip
“Your nephew is my hero.” Tyler whispered in Dixie’s ear. She placed her finger over her lips and shushed him.
“Don’t say that too loudly. It’ll go straight to his head.” She stopped the wheelchair while Chip stood at the employee entrance, scanning the parking lot for reporters.
“Coast is clear. Oh, here, put this on.” Chip took off his cowboy hat and placed it on Tyler’s head. He glanced up, catching Chips’ eye.
“Never worn one of these before. How does it look?” Tyler winked.
“Hush up, you two. Let’s get out of here.” Tyler bit his lower lip as Dixie scolded them, then she held the door open while Chip pushed the wheelchair through it.
Chip’s truck was parked close by, otherwise he would have pulled up to the entrance. He propelled the wheelchair forward while Aunt Dixie walked casually beside it, blocking the view.
“Shit.” He heard Dixie mutter. Chip stopped pushing for half a second, then pushed the chair a bit faster.
“What’s happening?” Tyler whispered.
“A couple of guys with cameras are sneaking a smoke in the lot. Keep your head down.” The next few seconds lasted forever. Finally, they stopped next to a giant pickup truck. He looked up, only to be swatted by Dixie.
“Keep your head down, fool!” She whispered.
Chip unlocked the door, then he stooped over and whispered in Tyler’s ear.
“You ready, big fella? On the count of three, stand.” Tyler nodded. Chip placed his arm around him for support.
“One, two, three.” Tyler’s legs shook, but he managed not to fall over. Chip tightened his grip on the man’s muscular shoulders. Tyler leaned into Chip and hoisted himself into the front seat.
“I’m gonna roll the wheelchair back to the entrance. Hop in the driver side, Aunt Dixie, and make sure he keeps his head down.”
Dixie raced to the other side of the truck and got in. He scanned the lot as he walked the wheelchair to the entrance. The two reporters didn’t look at him even once. He strolled back to the truck, not wanting to provoke their interest by running.
“I can’t thank you enough, Chip.” Tyler said as he snapped his seatbelt in place.
“We’re not out of the woods yet. Thank me when we’re pulling up to your house, okay?” Chip replied.
Tyler reached over Dixie and squeezed Chip’s knee, surprising him. He felt his face flushing, then he dropped the keys.
“What the hell is wrong with you, boy? Start the damn truck!” Dixie muttered through gritted teeth. He found the keys, turned the ignition, and pulled out of the lot. His fingers trembled, and his face was hot, and not just from his aunt’s fiery words.
“Help him to the sofa, Chip. I’ll get some coffee started.” Dixie commanded.
