Page 29 of Catching Our Moment
“I’ll be fine.” Shaw was digging in his heels.
Grace, Dylan, and I glanced at each other. “I’m going to take Aaron for a walk,” Grace said.
“Sounds like a good idea,” I said.
Aaron walked over to Shaw’s bed. “When I don’t feel good, I watch television and eat my favorite foods. Mom makes me oatmeal chocolate chip cookies that are so good.”
“Is that so?”
“Come to our house, and Mom can make you cookies. We can eat ice cream and order pizza, and we can play video games and watch football, and it will be fun.”
“Ah. Well, I can’t eat all that stuff right now.”
“Why? You can eat whatever you want when you aren’t feeling well.”
“Because when you play football, you’re on a strict diet.”
“But you’re not playing football anymore.”
Silence. The doctor’s words about his days of playing football coming to an end haunted the room.
“Hey, how about we go find Shaw a healthy snack for now?” Grace said.
“I’m going to make a few calls,” Dylan said, eyeing me as he walked by. “You’re up. Work some of that mojo on him.”
That left me and Shaw in a hospital room. Alone.
If I knew where my mojo was hiding, I would’ve pulled it out months ago for myself.
“So, um, before I forget, I wanted to thank you for the tickets to the game. You were right…it was a memorable experience, to be sure.”
He let out a chuckle as I pulled up a chair next to his bed, taking the controller in my hand and lowering the head of the bed. “You have a concussion. You need to rest,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Can you show me how to turn on the television? I want to check the scores.”
“No. No television.”
“What? Why not?”
“Come on. You’re a football player. You know concussion protocol. No electronics. Just rest.”
He harrumphed, and I swore his arms moved to cross over his chest, but he stopped, given the pain in his shoulder.
“Come home with us,” I said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a grown man. I will be fine.”
“I know you would be fine. But you don’t need to be alone,” I said.
His bottom lip jutted out, and it was almost adorable. I tried not to laugh.
“Shaw. You are a hypocritical pain in the ass,” I shot back.
That got his attention.
“That’s not nice. You’re supposed to be nice to an injured man.”
“I thought you were fine?”
