Page 115 of Ice Mechanic

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

APRIL

After the kissing,the love confession, and the showing up like a knight-in-shining armorrightwhen me and my garage needed him the most, I thought I’d be seeing Chance every day.

But Chance and the Lucky Strikers leave town again for a series of away games and, just like that, he’s MIA for weeks.

I’m surprised by how much I miss his playful smiles and flirty banter.

And Ireallywish I asked him how he managed to tie my hair without it getting loose.

“Nurse,” dad’s croaking voice lifts me from my thoughts, “he called B-24.”

I place the sticker in a hurry and dad lifts his hand. “Bingo!”

Groans of disappointment sweep through the room, growing in direct response to dad’s excitement. Dad eagerly points to the front of the room where the bingo prizes are stacked, a silent command to wheel him there.

I wrap my fingers around the handles of his wheelchair and push him forward.

“This one.” Dad collects the package ofFreshButtFitboxer briefs. “Chance McLanely wears these.”

I wouldn’t presume to know what underwear Chance prefers. I haven’t allowed myself to even imagine him in anything close to boxer briefs. But I’m pretty sure his tighty-whities wouldn’t have an ‘accident guarantee’ padding.

Dad smirks proudly. “I spoke to him, you know.”

I don’t correct my father. He’s been really excited since Chance’s visit. Which means his non-stop chatting about June reduced significantly.

“McLanely is playing the Southern Foxes this weekend.” Dad informs me.

“You’ve mentioned it,” I answer dryly.

Somehow, dad knows every detail of Chance’s itinerary. In his mind, he even knows what Chance eats for breakfast.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in Chance McLanely?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“The better question is why aren’tyouinterested in Chance McLanely?”

I humph. Dad sounds exactly like May.

A nurse smiles politely at us. “Mr. Brooks, it’s time for your checkup with Doctor Reese.”

Dad holds his bingo card to his chest. “I can’t go yet. This is another winning hand. I’m sure of it.”

“Dad, I mean, Mr. Brooks,” I clear my throat, “I’ll play this hand for you. You can take over when you get back.”

Dad surveys me with narrowed eyes. “Alright.” He gives in. “But don’t get up. Not even to use the bathroom. That’s how they get’cha.”

I offer him a wobbly smile and promise that I won’t get up even if my bladder’s about to explode.

Dad is wheeled away and I play the rest of the round.

After the game ends, dad still isn’t back yet, so I go in search of him.

I find his nurse tending to another patient and wait until she has a moment before asking, “Is my father still with the doctor?”

“Oh, he was tired after the check up so he retired to his room. I’m sorry. I should have informed you but I got caught up.”

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