Page 20 of Knox
Grady leaned closer. “Knox told me you woke up, so I brought you Bunzy.” He placed the rabbit on the blanket next to her arm. “He’s been sleeping with me at Daddy’s, but he wanted to come see you too.”
She watched him with a hint of a smile on her lips.
“I missed you every day,” he whispered.
Debra’s shoulders shook, and Hank pulled her into his chest.
Grady didn’t look at them. His hand stayed over his mother’s. “I asked Daddy if we could come see you even when you were still sleeping, but he said the doctors were still helping you.”
A lump crawled up my throat as I watched my son with his mom. He didn’t ask about the bruises or the wires. He didn’t care that she hadn’t said a word. He just talked to her and gave her updates like she’d gone out of town and was finally back.
The last three days, I’d prepared for the worst. But I hadn’t expected this: his calm, his heart, the way he filled the silence without needing anything in return.
He leaned in a little more. “Do you know where you are? You’re at the hospital, but it’s okay. Knox said you’re getting better now.”
Her eyes stayed open. Her lips moved again, slow and careful.
“I told Bunzy we’d bring you home when you’re ready. He can stay here with you until then.” Grady lowered his voice. “Can I tell you something?”
Mallory didn’t answer, but her hand stayed wrapped around his.
“I kept waiting for you to pick me up at Daddy’s and take me to get hot cocoa.” He moved closer until his head rested gently against her uninjured arm. “When you’re ready. We can go get some. I love you, Mommy.”
As I stood there, I tried not to fall apart, but having Mallory alert and watching Grady talk to her was one of the best feelings in the world.
I closedGrady’s door gently behind me. It was his first night without Bunzy. He didn’t ask for him, but I could tell it felt different. He didn’t interrupt the story. Didn’t stall. Just curled into the blankets and held still until he was out.
Stepping into the bedroom, I found Knox already in bed, propped up against the headboard. The TV was on but muted. He held the remote in one hand but wasn’t touching any buttons. “She’s going to be okay,” he said as though he still knew what I was thinking.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Grady too.”
“I know.” I dropped my phone on my nightstand, then sat on the edge of the bed and ran my hand through my hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
“Yeah, but you know pitchers and catchers report in a month. I have no plan. She’s still in the hospital, and I can’t leave Grady.”
Before we left the hospital, a doctor came in to check on Mallory. She was finally able to speak—barely above a whisper—but it was something. Enough to answer a question or nod when the doc prompted her. Still, it was clear she had a long way to go. The doctor didn’t sugarcoat it; she said Mallory would be in the hospital at least three more weeks, maybe longer, depending on how her body handled rehab, how steady her memory stayed, and how long it took for her strength to come back. She’d made it through the worst part, but none of this was over.
“You don’t have to have it figured out yet.”
“I keep thinking maybe I should stay. Just skip the season.” I stared down at my hands. “Maybe baseball isn’t the right call right now.”
Knox shifted behind me and rested both hands on my shoulders. His thumbs moved slowly, pressing into the tightmuscles at the base of my neck. “You’re allowed to think that, but Parker didn’t say you had to quit. He said you had options.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to give up the game. You just need help.”
I sat there, trying to let the tension go.
“What if we find someone to help?” He stayed behind me, still working his thumbs down along the sides of my neck. “Someone to live at Mallory’s full-time. Help with Grady until she’s healed and back to being his mom.”
“A nanny?”
“Yeah. A nanny.”
