Page 57 of Stone Vows

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says.

“Thanks, man.”

“Not a problem,” Mason says, giving me a supportive squeeze of my shoulder. “Sometimes we have to pull out all the stops for the ones we think are worth it.” He looks across the room to his fiancée, Piper.

I look around at the couples sitting in Charlie and Ethan’s living room, thinking of all the shit they had to go through to get where they are today. My life has been a walk in the park compared to what some of them have endured.

Then I think of what Elizabeth is going through. What she might have gone through to get here. What I don’t ever want her to have to deal with again. And I know with one hundred percent certainly that she’s worth it.

Chapter Twenty-five

“Thank you so much for doing this,” I say, shaking Caden’s hand at the entrance to the hospital. “You’ll never know how much this means to me and my patient.”

“Happy to do it,” he says. “Especially as a favor to Mason Lawrence. He’s a great guy. He makes all pro athletes look bad with his portfolio of causes and foundations.”

“Yeah, I’m honored to have him as a friend.” I open the doors and escort him through. “I can’t believe you could do this on such short notice.”

“Our rain delay turned into a cancellation,” he says, gesturing to the storm outside. “So as luck would have it, my afternoon is free, thanks to mother nature.”

A few kids horsing around in the atrium see Caden and get all bug-eyed as they run over to us.

“Mr. Kessler, can I have your autograph?” one asks.

“Sure, slugger. What can I sign for you?” He points to the kid’s ball cap. “How about this?”

“Oh, yeah,” the boy says. “That would be sweet. Thanks.”

Caden scribbles his name on the kid’s hat and then turns to the other one. “How about you? Your shirt, maybe? Unless you think your mom will get mad.”

The boy, who is maybe twelve years old, looks over at a woman who then nods her head.

“Looks like Mom’s okay with it,” Caden says, kneeling down to sign the back of his shirt across one shoulder.

“James is gonna die,” the kid says. “He’ll never believe he missed this.”

I laugh as the boy tries to see the autograph without having to remove his shirt.

“Who is James?” Caden asks. “Your friend?”

“Our brother,” the small one says. “He got sick and is having surgery. App . . . uh, appendus . . .”

“Appendicitis, stupid,” the older one says.

Caden looks at them in thought. “Is James a Hawks fan?” he asks.

“Oh, yes. We all are,” the younger one says.

Caden takes off his own hat and writes‘James – get well soon, Caden Kessler #8’on the bill. He gives it to the smallest boy. “Give this to James when he wakes up, okay?”

“Wow,” the kid says in awe. “He gets your hat? He’s lucky.”

They thank Caden and run back to their mom who smiles over at us.

“Do you get that wherever you go?” I ask him as we walk away, thinking how my brother, Chad, has the same problem.

“Pretty much, but it’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m still getting used to it all.”

“How long have you been with the Nighthawks?” I ask. “Sorry, I don’t have much time to follow sports these days.”

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