Until Friday Night - Page 21/65

Brady turned and looked at all of them. “Maggie and West are friends. Just friends. And I’m good with that.” There was an awkward silence, and West pulled out a chair for me to sit. Once I was seated he looked at his friends and teammates who were still watching the three of us like they weren’t sure what to think.

“She’s my friend. Deal with it,” he informed them, then sat down close to me. He leaned his head toward mine. “Sorry they’re acting like idiots. I don’t normally have girls who are friends. And you were completely off-limits because of Brady. So they’re trying to figure out what’s up.” I nodded. I understood that. Although right now all I really wanted was to run off to my room.

“Here’s more milk and cake,” Aunt Coralee announced. The guys went back to watching TV and talking. I didn’t turn around to see if Nash was still playing basketball or staring at us.

“She doesn’t eat enough. Make sure she finishes the whole thing,” she told West as if she knew we were friends now and the idea tickled her pink.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, taking the plates from her hands and putting one in front of me.

When she left the room, West smiled down at me. “You need to relax. You look like I’m forcing you to sit here beside me. They’ll get over it soon enough. I swear.”

I tilted my head down to hide my mouth from everyone else. “I know,” I replied quietly. “I just hate being stared at.”

He chuckled and moved his fork to get a bite of cake. “Then you shouldn’t be so damn pretty.”

The birds in my stomach were back. How was I supposed to eat now?

Do You Have Regrets?

CHAPTER 14

WEST

Maggie had slipped off to her room when we started watching last week’s game tape. I had been so relaxed watching the plays and talking about where we messed up and where we needed to tighten up that I missed her leaving.

I hadn’t gone after her—I knew she had wanted to escape. I could tell by the look on her face. She’d only been staying for me.

But now my head wasn’t on the game anymore. I was thinking about my dad and the fact I’d been gone too long. I wanted to get back home and check on things. Talk to him even if he didn’t talk back. I’d found that didn’t matter anymore. I just needed to be near him.

The end was coming, and it wasn’t going to be easy.

I stood up and walked over to Brady and then whispered I was heading home and told him to text me Maggie’s phone number. The guys were so wrapped up in watching the game, they didn’t notice or say anything about me heading out early.

I wasn’t in my truck yet when my phone dinged. Brady had sent me her number. I’d almost expected him to tell me to get it from her myself. But he trusted me with her. I’d make sure I deserved that trust.

It helped just knowing I could call and hear her voice if I needed to. And I wondered if the sound of my voice helped her? She’d been through something virtually alone. Could I be for her what she was for me?

I opened the truck door and glanced up at her window. She was sitting in the window seat, her knees tucked up under her chin, watching me. I lifted my hand to wave, and she did the same. Then I held up my phone and put it to my ear and pointed at her.

Just to be sure she understood, I quickly texted her.

It’s me. Brady gave me your number. If I call, will you answer?

I pressed send then looked back up at her. She glanced down at her phone and I watched as she typed something. When her face lifted again to look down at me, my phone dinged.

Yes. If you need me, I’ll answer.

That was enough. I nodded and climbed into the truck to drive home and face my reality. I would sit and talk to Dad. I’d tell him about watching the game with the guys. And I’d tell him about Maggie. He’d like her.

When I opened the door to the house, it was quiet. The hospice worker was gone for the day. I locked up and headed inside. There was a note on the table from Momma telling me that she had made me a sub sandwich and left it in the fridge along with a fresh gallon of sweet tea. Dad had asked for her, so she had gone to lie down beside him.

I wasn’t hungry. I’d eaten two slices of cake earlier, and now knowing I wouldn’t get to talk to Dad tonight, I didn’t feel much like eating. But Momma would worry if she checked the fridge in the morning and saw the sandwich still there. So I fixed a tall glass of iced tea and took the sandwich and drink with me up to my room. I’d try to eat some before I went to sleep. If not, I’d make sure she never saw it wasn’t eaten.

I set my food down then walked quietly up the hall to stand outside my parents’ bedroom door and listen. There was silence. My dad used to snore, but he never did that anymore. He slept so quietly now. I used to lie in my bed at night, covering my ears, wanting him to stop snoring so I could fall asleep. These days I found myself wishing for his snoring. Just so I’d know he was still breathing.

My heart clenched at the idea of my dad no longer breathing. The panic and pain that came with that thought squeezed my throat, making it hard to inhale. I moved away from their door and went back to my room so I didn’t disturb my mother. Closing my door behind me, I placed both hands on the door to hold myself up as I hung my head and gasped for air.

I was going to lose him.

I knew that, but damn, it hurt so bad.

Every time I let the facts sink in, my emotions began to lose their grip. I felt my body tremble as tears blurred my eyes. How was I going to make it through life without my dad? I needed him. We needed him.