Page 139 of A Whole New Play

The EMT looks up and nods before resuming his task.

“Sure.” I sit my daughter on the gurney next to her former nanny. Abby immediately leans into Valerie who wraps her uninjured arm around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Valerie asks Abby softly.

“Yeah.” Abby returns just as quietly. “That was scary.”

“Yeah.” She squeezes her tighter, and her haunted eyes find mine. “It was.”

44

CARTER

“Coach Owens is calling.”

I pull my eyes off Abby and Valerie who are still huddled together. We’ve moved to the medical office located on the suite level, out of sight of understandably curious onlookers who’d gaped at the scene they stumbled upon at the Super Bowl.

I don’t have to check social media to know there are likely dozens of posts discussing the incident. My PR team can handle that in the future. Right now, I’m just soaking in the relief I feel knowing Abby and Valerie are here and not seriously injured.

Even though the EMT told Valerie her cut wasn’t too deep, he insisted she be monitored for a little longer when he learned she’d hit her head. He wanted to ensure she didn’t sustain any lasting damage.

Since Abby refused to be separated from Valerie, and I refused to be separated from Abby, here we are. I’ve been trying to catch Valerie’s attention to gauge her feelings on my presence here, but she hasn’t looked my way since we entered the office.

“Are you going to answer that?” Valerie asks her dad when he doesn’t say or do anything after announcing his boss is calling.

Coach Palmer joined us shortly after we relocated to the office. From the boisterous noise I hear through the door, I’d guess it’s halftime.

“Do you mind?” The defensive coordinator asks his daughter.

“Of course not.”

Coach nods and tucks himself into the corner of the room to answer the head coach’s call.

“Shouldn’t you be in the locker room with the team?”

I meet my daughter’s gaze. “No.” The game is the least of my concerns.

I told my family Abby’s all right, but I denied my mom’s offer to take my place at her side. This is where I need to be right now.

“Are you sure?” Abby’s forehead furrows. “The team wasn’t playing so good earlier.”

Valerie suppresses a grin.

I huff a laugh. “Yeah… I know.”

“This is the Super Bowl, Dad,” she says in a serious voice. “It’s an important game.”

“It’s not more important than you,” I counter.

She purses her little lips. “That’s nice, but I’m fine. I want you to win the Super Bowl.”

I shake my head. “Even if I go play, there’s no guarantee I’ll win.”

“Yes, there is.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Valerie is here.” She motions toward her former nanny.

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