Page 153 of Break Point
“So, how long have you two been dating?” Dora asks, too casually to be casual. I can tell she’s trying to lift the moodandfish for details at the same time.
“Mom …”
“Oh, no need to pretend around me,” she says, crossing her leg on top of the other and waving a carefree hand in front of her. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. It’s the same as it’s always been. Took you longer than expected, if you ask me.” She pauses for a beat. “I also saw you leaping off the bed when I arrived.”
Henry snorts. Dora beams at me, and I look away with a nervous laugh, feeling my face getting hot.
“We might’ve gotten there sooner if this one”—I nod toward Henry—“hadn’t disappeared without saying goodbye.”
Dora throws a hand to her forehead in mock horror and shakes her head.
“If it makes you feel any better, he never stopped talking about you. Even when we were away and couldn’t explain why.”
Dora’s voice cracks, but she clears her throat and swallows the bad memories like only she knows how to. “You know he kept close track of your tennis career, right? And?—”
“Mom…” Henry’s voice gets more pointed with every repetition.
“Tell me more,” I urge, grinning. Dora laughs. “Tell me everything I missed while you were off the grid.”
“You know what?” Dora says. “Let’s wait for him to doze off again. Then you and I can sneak downstairs for coffee. I’ve got stories.”
“Oh, I’d love to hear them!” I do a small double clap in front of me.
“You should’ve stayed in Chicago,” Henry mutters. “You’re already teaming up against me.”
We let out a conspiratorial laugh. Ugh. I missed Dora, and I hadn’t even realized it.
There’s a knock on the door.
A nurse, Dr. Rivera, Drew, and Jacques, Henry’s former coach, file in like it’s first period. And just like that, the room feels two sizes too small.
The nurse checks on the IV drip and leaves promptly while Dr. Rivera approaches a baffled Henry to ask him some standard post-op questions. He seems shocked by Jacques’ presence.
I am, too.
Drew went all-in with his secret assignment.
“My sweetest Dora,” Drew says, approaching her for a hug. Drew was close to Mitch back in the day. He was his publicist, too, for a while. “It’s been ages, dear. How are you holding up?”
“Still vertical and caffeinated, so I must be doing something right,” Dora says with a smirk. “But thanks for asking, Drew. Really.”
Jacques greets Henry with a warm, affectionate smile and shakes Dora’s hand after Drew introduces her.
Dora and I scurry over to the loveseat, giving space to the men who are clearly gathered with one purpose: to talk to Henry.
Dr. Rivera explains that the surgery went smoothly and adds that Henry’s rehab specialist will stop by tomorrow at noon to walk him through the recovery process before discharge.
My throat makes an excited, squeaky noise, but I quickly smother it.
“That shoulder’s going to heal nicely,” Dr. Rivera says, reassuring him. He points at Jacques and Drew. “Get him signed while he’s still fresh out of the oven.”
He winks at Henry, and we all laugh. With that, Dr. Rivera leaves.
“Ma’am, you just dropped your jaw,” Drew says, full of sass. “You said … Wait, ’cause I literally wrote this shit down last night.”
He pulls a small yellow Moleskine from his inner jacket pocket, licks his finger, and flips through the pages.
“I want Jacques on board and sponsors stacked like pancakes at a press junket. Did you not?”
