Page 104 of First Love, Second Draft

“You what, Gracie?”

“I wish you the best.” She ended the call.

And before Noah knew what was happening, Rooster was lifting him off the floor and hustling him from the silence of the clubhouse—and the memory of Gracie’s voice on a similar phone call five years ago—to the sound of forty thousand fans who were all waiting to see if Noah was ready to be a hero or not.

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The sound of oxygen hissed in the tiny room.

“So basically we have two options here.” The doctor, a young man with curly hair and tired eyes, pulled a chair up next to her dad’s bed and propped his arms on his thighs, leaning forward to include both Gracie and her dad in the discussion.

“We put you on a ventilator and throw everything at you, including the kitchen sink, for the sole purpose of buying you whatever time we can, regardless of quality. Or...” He shifted in his seat, clasping his hands together. “We do not pursue any further aggressive forms of treatment, including dialysis, and instead focus on keeping you comfortable, knowing full well this will greatly reduce the quantity of time you have left.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Dad,” Gracie said, stepping closer to his bed and grabbing his hand. “Let’s think about this.”

“I don’t need to think.” He tugged the oxygen mask from his face and worked to catch his breath. “I’ve thought long enough. I’m done.”

“Okay, shh, okay.” Gracie slid the mask back over his nose and mouth. “I understand. You’re exhausted. I just thought—” Her voice hitched. She thought what? Her dad would live forever? They’d known this day was coming. “I just didn’t think it would be now. Tonight.”

Why did it have to be now? Tonight? When she felt completely alone.

Why did it always feel like she was completely alone?

“I need to call my sister. Call my nephew. We need to get everyone here. I’m not sure how quickly they can get here. I’ll tell them to hurry. My phone,” Gracie said, spinning in a circle. Where had she put her phone?

“It’s okay.” The doctor held up his hands. “Nothing needs to happen right this second. We’ve still got a little time.”

Gracie glanced at her dad, the way his shoulders lifted and dropped, using every last bit of reserve to move air in and out. Whatever time they had, it sure wasn’t much.

“Here’s what I think.” The doctor pressed his stethoscope to her dad’s lungs, listened to a few breaths on each side, then draped it back around his neck and focused all his attention on Buck. “I think we give you a little morphine to take the edge off. Keep you comfortable. Should help with your breathing.” He looked to Gracie. “In the meantime, you make whatever calls you need to make.”

Gracie nodded. “Morphine. Breathing. Calls. Got it.” Why was she acting like she had no idea what to do? She knew how this needed to play out. Get the family here. Let her dad go out with peace. With comfort. With—

“Can I watch the ball game?” her dad’s voice croaked out.

Anything but that.

The doctor laughed. “Of course. Man after my own heart.”

Before Gracie could stop him, the doctor grabbed the call light and switched on the TV mounted to the wall, finding the game in two clicks. “Oh good. Haven’t thrown out the first pitch yet. Mind if I watch for a minute?”

“Pull up a chair,” her dad, treacherous man that he was, told the doctor. And the doctor, treacherous man that he was, did as her dad suggested.

Unbelievable. “I’m going to go make those calls. You know, the calls to let everyone know you’redying.”

Neither man acknowledged her. Just as well. She didn’t need either of them witnessing her reaction the moment her eyes landed on Noah.

A tsunami couldn’t have bowled her over as much as the wave of emotions crashing into her at the mere sight of him. She couldn’t look away. The camera lingered on a close-up of his face, capturing every bit of warrior in his eyes. The determination. The focus.

The man she’d talked to a short while ago on the phone had sounded like a normal guy. This man standing on the pitcher’s mound didn’t look like that guy. No, this Noah was ready for battle. This Noah wasn’t taking any prisoners. This Noah was a hero.

And yet, she could still see it. This guy was also just plain old Noah Parker, Gracie’s fella. The guy she should’ve clung to with all her might and never pushed away.

“Oh, Noah,” she whispered.

“Ma’am?” the doctor said.

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