Page 65 of A Whole New Trick

My chest tightens with unease when I hear my brother’s strained words. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“No.” His voice cracks. “It’s Mom. She’s in the hospital.”

21

DANE

The Ranchers’board did not want to let me go to Minnesota. I understood their reasoning. The team is in the middle of the second round of playoffs, and I’m a crucial element of its offense. The Carolina Sealions are formidable opponents, but this is my mom we’re talking about.

Vincent Gianni Jr. didn’t go so far as to threaten to fine me if I chose to travel to see my mom before the series ended, but he insinuated it was a possibility.

I was ready to tell the team’s owner to shove his objections up his ass and storm out of his office before Coach Miller stepped in. Coach convinced Gianni that it was in the team’s best interest for me to visit my mom.

Mom had been in the hospital for two days at that point, and while it killed me, I’d stayed in Dallas to play in the first game of the series—a game we lost.

That same evening, Coach Miller pointed out that while the team’s loss wasn’t solely on my shoulders, the fact I was distracted by my mom’s health meant my head wasn’t one hundred percent in the game.

After some more placating words and reassurances, Gianni and the Rancher’s board ultimately agreed it would be okay ifI skipped training to see my mom, but I had to be back before game two in less than forty-eight hours.

I hated the tight timetable, but it couldn’t be helped.

If Mom is worse than Dad says she is, I won’t hesitate to call Coach Miller and tell him I’ll be missing game two and accept whatever punishment the Ranchers levy on me. But I’ll deal with that situation if it comes to it.

I’m picturing the outcome ofthatconversation as Eli and I step off the private plane I chartered for the quick trip. Cool spring air penetrates my cotton hoodie. I shiver. It’s been a while since I’ve been back in my home state. I’m no longer used to the weather.

My brother and I make our way to the passenger pickup area, where a ride share is waiting. We barely speak a word during the ride to the hospital. Both of us are, no doubt, bracing ourselves for what we’re about to walk into.

I lean against the sedan’s leather seat and close my eyes, trying to calm my anxious thoughts with slow, steady breaths.

Mom has been sick for years. She was diagnosed with Lupus in her forties and has had a variety of illnesses and painful conditions caused by the autoimmune disease over the years. But she’s never been in the hospital this long before.

Dad didn’t go into detail about what happened when we spoke on the phone, but apparently, there’s something wrong with Mom’s heart. The doctors admitted her to keep an eye on her and also to administer medications while monitoring for side effects. He told me I didn’t need to come see her. He swore she was fine.

I don’t believe him.

Dad wouldn’t have called to tell me about Mom if she was fine. He would’ve just sent a text. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have called Eli.

No, Dad’s worried.

He’s trying to hide it now to stop me from risking the team’s chance to win a championship, but it’s too late. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere until I make sure the woman who raised me is okay.

“We’re here.”

I open my eyes and turn to Eli.

His face is pale, but his expression is determined.

“You going to be okay?” This homecoming is even more anxiety-inducing for Eli, thanks to how he and Dad left things the last time they spoke.

“I’m here for Mom,” he replies, knowing exactly what I’m getting at. “I’m not here for him.”

I nod. “I’ve got your back, Eli.”

“I know. Thanks.” He takes a deep breath and then exhales. “I guess we should go inside.”

I nod. “Let’s go.”

The hospital lobby is quiet. Eli and I approach the welcome desk, and I let my younger brother do the talking. The older woman volunteering at the desk glances at me curiously before directing us to our mom’s room on the fourth floor.

---