“Those weren’t the same injuries.” Her fingers tapped on the mouse, her gaze remained fixed on the monitor. Hesitation lingered in her voice. “You need every day of the off-season and some of the preseason to recover this time.”
Wariness crawled through Chase. His oldest sister never avoided confrontation. Never sidestepped an issue. Mallory had been their mother’s right hand growing up. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She blinked, slow and steady, and considered him. Her face softened. “How much do you love football?”
“You already know how much. It’s my life.”
“Then you better schedule surgery soon if you want to continue living your life.”
“I can’t have another surgery.” His contract was up for renewal. Without a new contract, he wouldn’t have a team to play for. Negotiations were about to begin. An op and tons of rehab would not work in his favor.
“You have no choice,” she said.
He matched the unyielding edge in her tone with his own rigid voice. “But the Pioneers have a choice.”
“You’ve played your entire professional career with the Pioneers,” she argued. “You led the league in touchdowns this season alone.”
“Is that enough?” he asked. He was thirty-three and injured. There were younger, faster, healthier guys prepping right now for the draft. If the critics were to be believed, fourth in the league was a generous rating for the aging Pioneers’ offensive line. Chase’s body felt less than mediocre. He took longer to get out of bed and loosen up his muscles. His shoulder seemed to have given up. But he would overcome all that in the off-season with rest, determination and diligence like he always had.
“If you’d quit dinging your reputation every chance you got, it just might be.” Mallory stood and walked around her desk. “Now go and call Mom.”
He quickly anchored his most persuasive smile into place. “Can you call Mom for me?”
“I stopped covering for you in high school.” She opened her office door. “But I’ll put in a good word for you when I talk to her.”
“You’re my favorite sister.” He hugged her.
“You told Ivy the same thing yesterday after she brought your favorite sandwiches for lunch.” Mallory laughed.
“Fine.” Chase released her and grinned. “You’re my favorite doctor sister.”
“I’m the only doctor in the family,” she said. “And it’s a good thing for you.”
Chase loved his sisters. Yet Mallory and he shared a close bond. She’d moved in with him during a difficult breakup. Pleased he could finally take care of his independent and capable sister, Chase had kept an endless supply of tissue boxes in the linen closet and a freezer full of cookie dough ice cream. And he’d kept Mallory’s secrets safe.
The same as Mallory kept his confidences. He knew Mallory wouldn’t share the details about his current situation. He just wasn’t sure how long he could keep the secret from his team or the press.
CHAPTER TWO
“MOM, THAT GROCERY store over there is open.” Wesley pointed across the street at Tally’s Corner Market. “Should we go in and meet the owners?”
Nichole Moore followed the direction of her son’s gaze. Guilt pinched in between her ribs. When had her eleven-year-old taken on the responsibility of pointing out potential vendors for Nichole’s fledgling business?
“Josie is waiting for us at Next Level.” Brooke Ellis, Nichole’s best friend, wrapped her arm around Nichole’s waist and urged her toward the women’s clothing store nestled deep inside the city’s shopping district. “There’s no time to waste.”
Time. That already remained in too short supply. Every time Nichole turned around, Wesley had grown another inch. Every time she checked her work calendar, her one-year deadline to launch her business crept closer to the end of the month cutoff date. And that money she’d set aside to fulfill her dream dwindled even faster.
But her year wasn’t up yet. Wesley wasn’t off to college for another six years. She still had time to spend with her son and to secure a better future for them both. Nichole pulled out her cell phone and snapped a picture of Tally’s Corner Market midstride. “Sundays are important...”
Wesley peered into Next Level’s extra-large window, displaying an array of intimate apparel, and frowned. “Because according to Mom, Sunday nights are when kids like me remember class snack day, forgotten school supplies and bake sales.”
Clearly Wesley had been listening to Nichole rehearse her pitch. The one she planned to give tomorrow night to potential investors who could help launch her business.
That pinch became a squeeze inside her chest. Wesley should be playing video games and concentrating on soccer drills, not reciting her presentation word for word.
“You know what else?” Wesley positioned himself spread eagle across the door to Next Level, blocking their entry. “Mom really hates bake sales and when her son is embarrassed by being seen in a women’s clothing store.”
“I don’t hate hate bake sales.” Nichole disliked good-nights that started with: Mom, I forgot to tell you... “I created the In A Pinch app for families who have handed out sticks of gum for class snack. Or used stale Halloween candy for the class Valentine’s Day exchange. Or sent in grapes on toothpicks for the bake sale.”
“Don’t remind me,” Wesley mumbled. “But the bubble gum was awesome, even though Ms. Warner confiscated every piece.”
“It was against the rules.” Nichole grimaced at Brooke.
“Well, shopping is not against the rules.” Brooke motioned to Wesley. “Now let us get inside so we can dress your mom for her next level of success.”
Wesley never budged. “But I’m in a pinch and in need of saving from being seen in there.”
“You’re in luck. Your rescue squad is almost here.” Brooke checked her phone. “Ben and his dad are a few blocks away.”
Wesley pumped his fists and grinned.
“But you still have to come inside the store until they get here,” Nichole said.
“Ugh.” Wesley shuffled away from the door.
“Nichole. Brooke.” Josie Beck
