“There was a wreck, and one of our riders was injured. It looked really bad. If I just saw the bike, I would have thought he was dead, or very close to it. Fortunately, he just broke his leg and got ground up a little. They might have to do surgery, but even if they don’t, his season is over.”
Pam’s hand covered her mouth, muffling a gasp, and I nodded. It was really terrifying to think about. I changed the subject as quickly as I could, wanting to talk about something else. After lunch, we spent a while on the couch drinking the sangria and talking about life. As Willa started nodding off, Pam left, and I brought my little girl into her room for a nap. Taking advantage of the quiet, I took out my computer and went to work on the most recent mechanic manual because in that moment, doing anything that would keep me from thinking about telling Darren about Willa.
19 Darren
“I thought he didn’t have any family,” I said, pinning the phone between my ear and shoulder as I made myself a cup of coffee.
I was on approximately cup thirty thousand since the night we went to the hospital with Greg, and I didn’t see the end of the trend anytime soon. The hospital staff wasn’t in love with the idea that I refused to leave, but there really wasn’t a whole lot they could do about it. They could tell me visiting hours were over, and I’d just move out into the waiting room and camp out on the chairs. It only took until the middle of the next day for them to realize my father and I were listed as emergency contacts in his records, so they cut back on their attempts to make me leave.
He was out of the woods, and the doctors were strongly leaning toward him not needing surgery, which was great news. But there was still no way I was leaving him alone in the hospital. Up until this conversation with my father, who was upstairs near his room while I was downstairs trying to fuel up, I thought Greg was essentially on his own.
“He doesn’t around here. He moved to Charlotte on his own. Apparently, his mother lives in Virginia, and they haven’t seen each other much since he moved here.”
“But she’s coming down to take care of him?” I asked.
“I don’t get the feeling there’s anything negative about their relationship, really. Just that he left home and went off on his own. According to him, they were really close as he grew up. Before we all got to the hospital, he asked the staff to call her and let her know what was going on. He knew we were all going to be coming up after the race, but he wanted to make sure she knew what was happening, too. She just let him know she’s on her way and is going to stay with him when he’s discharged to help him while he’s recovering,” Dad told me.
“I’ll be up there in a minute,” I told him and hung up.
When I got back into Greg’s room, he was eyeing the Jell-O cup the nurses brought him like he thought it might be alive. He finally took hold of it and poked it with his spoon, watching it jiggle.
“You’ll probably be getting much better food when your mom gets here,” I said.
“I hope so,” he told me. “She hasn’t cooked for me in a long time.”
“I’m relieved to find out she’s coming and will be able to be there to take care of you while you’re trying to piece yourself back together. I was looking around to find somebody to hire for you,” I told him.
Greg blushed and got very invested in his Jell-O again.
“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “You shouldn’t be worrying about me like that.”
“Of course I’m worried about you. We all are. We want to make sure you get back to fighting form as soon as possible. You’re going to be dealing with that bum leg for a bit, so you need someone to help you out. It’s good to hear your mama will be around to help you,” I told her. “Just let us know if there’s anything you need while you’re out. Of course, you’ll be getting paid, and if we can help you at all, we want to.”
Greg seemed touched by the statement, and possibly a little overwhelmed. I decided to give him some space and finally left the hospital when we got word his mother was getting close and would be arriving soon.
Monday morning, I called Quentin to let him know I might be late getting to the complex and headed over to Greg’s house. His mother opened the door with a bright smile. She looked just like I would have expected Greg’s mother to look—a small, feminine, slightly older version of him. She gestured for me to follow her and brought me into the living room where Greg was sitting on the couch, his leg propped up. He grinned when he saw me.
“Look at you,” I said. “Out in the real world.”
“Yeah. Thank goodness they didn’t have to do any surgery. It will take some time to get healed, but it won’t be as bad a recovery as it would have been if they had to put metal in there,” Greg said.
“I’m going to make breakfast,” his mother announced and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Have a seat,” Greg said.
I settled into a chair positioned near the end of the couch, and we started talking. It was good to have the chance to connect with him away from everybody else, away from the pressures of the complex. Even away from the hospital. Here in his home he could just relax, and we were able to have a good conversation. We talked about how the race ended, and what I was going to do next time.
Our conversation
