Page 108 of Well Played

Toward dawn, I must fall asleep because I wake with a jolt to the sound of incessant ringing on the outside buzzer. Groggy, I wonder why my neck is sore, before realizing that I am scrunched on the couch. The ringing continues.

Falling to my knees when I try to get up, I swear under my breath and push against the couch to totter into a standing position. Then I peek out the window. Ax stands outside, his finger stabbing the bell over and over.

When I ring the buzzer, a heavy tread races up the stairway and he pounds against the door before I can get there to open it.

“Damn it, Ax, what the hell is going on?”

“You were asleep?” He looks disgusted.

“Guess so. I was awake most of the night.” When I catch sight of myself in the hall mirror, bleared vision shows me a creased face, hair standing on end, and a little drool on my chin.

“What time is it?” The rusty gate sound makes me wince.

“Almost noon. Frank’s in surgery. Doc said you planned to be there. Are you hung over from the revelry last night?”

“No. If you remember, Hay and I had nonalcoholic cocktails.”

“I was thinking a food coma.” He snaps his fingers. “You brought most of yours home.”

“I have enough left for at least three more meals. It was yummy but way too much for one person.”

I need to take a quick shower and throw on some clothes. He calls after me, “Chris and I cleaned our plates.”

“Fix yourself something to drink and give me ten minutes.”

He nods, answering a text. I race into the bedroom, tear off my clothes, and jump into the shower. Five minutes later, wet hair drips down my back as I frantically towel off.

Team sweats are as professional as I can be in the limited time available. My head wrapped in a turban, I call out, “Ready to go,” as I grab a parka from the closet.

His car is double-parked, engine running, but fortunately there’s no ticket. Heat pours out and the seat warmers are on. “Any news?”

“Doc says he’s in recovery. We should get there before they take him back to his room. Everything looks okay but there could be later complications from infection.” He shudders, probably thinking about the surgeries he went through when his neck was broken.

A television shows a daytime soap when we get to the waiting room. A couple of women sit on a love seat, engrossed in the action. Phil and Gnauss perch on the edges of their chairs, staring at the closed door to the recovery room.

Gnauss jumps up, hands balled into fists, fury turning him purple. “Where have you been, Maya? Your job was to be here.”

A lump forms and I swallow to dislodge the sensation. “I overslept.” At the incredulousness on his face, I lash out, stung, “After the scene with Frank’s mother yesterday…”

A coughing fit overtakes me. Ax hands me a water bottle, the cap already loosened. “Anyway, I was awake most of the night.” The torrent becomes a trickle becomes drippy gulps. A flash of orange catches the corner of my eye as I feebly collapse onto the edge of a vinyl-padded chair. My eyes overflow.

Gnauss gives me an awkward pat on the shoulder while Ax shoves a wad of tissues at me.

“At least she’s out of the picture. We put her on a plane this morning—kicked out of the hospital, the U.S., and maybeFrank’s life. Not a bad result.” Phil’s attempt to cheer me up falls flat.

“The whole team visited last night after you left. He may act like a jerk in the outside world, but he’s still a teammate and always there for his brothers,” Ax adds with a big smile. “And now they are there for him.”

“How was he this morning?”

Overhead lights bounce off the shiny surface of Gnauss’ bald head. With an absent rub, he says, “He hated the waiting, the prep. Just kept demanding that they do the surgery and get it over with. He asked for you but we assured him you would be here. Of course, they ended up having to bring his blood pressure down again. Another thing he’ll have to work on while he rehabs.”

“One thing, Maya.” Ax sounds like he’s going for a big ask. “Sauer can’t live by himself, at least in the first stages of recovery.”

My heart plummets into my stomach. “Can’t you hire round-the-clock nursing?”

“Yeah, he could afford it, but he was pretty clear. He wants you. To live in.”

No, no, no. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m already getting too attached to this guy. “Come on. He can’t stand me. Just find some male nurses to stay with him. I’ll be there to do the PT. But live in, that’s nuts.”

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