Page 38 of One Little Favor
“Really? I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Careful there, Alex,” I warn.
“What? You’re tiny.”
“I’m taller with my skates on, and bigger with my pads. And because of my size, I could probably skate circles around you.”
“I think sometime you should prove that theory,” Alex says quietly. He’s a big, hulking man who looks like he’s wound tight because of the thickly corded muscle that frames every inch of him, but he has always struck me as a bit of a gentle giant. I wouldn’t want to cross him, just the same. “And you,” he says, looking at my dad, “should join us.”
Dad looks a little embarrassed. “I’m not sure my leg is healed enough to get back on skates.”
“We have a physical therapist on staff who is absolutely amazing. One of our defenders tore his quad almost clean in half in an accident last year,” Alex says, and I see the recognition dawn in Dad’s eyes. Of course, he knows who Alex is talking about. “After his surgery, she made sure that through intense physical therapy, he completely healed. She does some private PT on the side. Why don’t I set you up with her, my treat.”
“That’s ...” Dad stammers, and I can sense him getting ready to decline the offer.
“Incredibly generous, Alex. Thank you so much,” I say, before Dad can finish his thought. Now that I have no income to pay for Dad’s physical therapy, it would have to stop. So the opportunity to work with the team’s therapist is amazing.
“Good, I’ll send you the details,” Alex tells me. “Oh, and this is for you,” he says to my dad, as he pulls out a folded jersey that’s been hanging from the waistband of his hockey pants.
Dad takes it from him with a “thank you” and then he exhales a loud breath when he sees that the jersey is signed.
“Thanks for coming to the game,” Alex says to Dad as he steps back toward the locker room, “and for being such a massive fan.”
* * *
I don’t notice Tom sitting in the shadow of the trees on the front steps of our house until we are out of the car. He stands as we approach, Mom and me on either side of Dad.
“You have something to do with this physical therapy business?” Dad calls out to Tom before I even have a chance to figure out how I feel about his presence here.
Am I elated to see him? Hell, yes. Am I mad that it took him two days to finally find me? Also yes.
“Maybe a little something,” Tom replies.
“You always go sticking your nose in other people’s business?” Dad asks.
I squeeze his arm tightly and mutter, “Ungrateful, much?” just loud enough for Dad to hear.
“Only with the people I care about,” Tom says. “Like I told you before, I’d give Avery the moon if that’s what she wanted. But what she wants more than anything is for you to fully recover.”
Dad sighs, a deep guttural sound of deflation, and tells Tom, “You’re making it really hard for me to not like you. I suppose you’re here to see Avery?”
“I’m here to take her home.” He looks at me, finally, and I see the pain, the lack of sleep, the worry. “We have a lot to talk about.”
I don’t rush forward into his arms, as much as I want to. “It wasn’t true, was it? Any of the stuff Mitzi told me?”
I can feel my parents looking at me, but I’m only looking at Tom.
“Not a word of it.”
“God, I’m such an idiot.” I look down at my feet.
“Yeah, but you’re my idiot,” he says, and reaches his hand out to me. He waits there in the yellow light from the street lamp while I stare at it, then up at him, but he doesn’t drop it when I don’t immediately react. He just waits for me to be ready. And I’m overcome by the feeling I had at the hockey game, the one that hit me like a sledgehammer. This man loves me. And this is him, fighting for me.
I step forward and take his hand and pull him closer to me so I can wrap my arms around his waist. I curl into him, absorbing his warmth and savoring the way he hugs me tight and doesn’t let go.
Behind me, I hear my mother coo, and my father suggest that they give us some privacy. As they move away, I look up at Tom. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.” My words are whispered, but sincere.
“Me too,” he says, and kisses my forehead. “I wish you’d talked to me about it.”
