Page 50 of The Hard Hitter
“How is he?” I ask.
Mom stands and takes me into her arms. “He’s going to be fine, Sam. The air bag deployed but his door crumbled. His arm got twisted up, and he needs surgery to make it right.”
The ice cream sours in my stomach, and Mom guides me down into the uncomfortable waiting room chair. “What happened?”
“Some drunk driver ran a red and smashed into your father’s car, driver’s side.”
“Oh my God,” I say, the room spinning around me. I can’t imagine ever losing my dad. He’s been there for me my whole life. What if I’d lost him before ever giving him the grandkids he so desperately wants?
I settle into the chair and grab a magazine, but I can’t focus on anything. Beside me, Mom knits on her scarf, and every now and then casts a glance at the television.
After a good hour of sitting, I stand and pace. “Is there anyone we can talk to, ask how things are going?”
“I’ll find out for you,” a very familiar man’s voice says from the doorway.
I turn, and my heart jumps into my throat when I find Zander standing there.
Without questioning it, I run to him, and he puts his arms around me, squeezing tight. I fight tears and press my face into the crook of his neck. We hold each other for a long time and when he lets me go, I turn to see Mom sitting there, a small smile on her face.
“Mom,” I say. “This is Zander Reed.”
“I know very well who he is,” Mom says.
“Zander, this is my mom, Mary Peters.”
“Mary,” he says, and walks up to her. “I’m so sorry to hear about the accident. I got here as fast as I could.”
“I see that,” she says.
Zander turns to me. “I dropped Daisy with Quinn. She sends her love.”
“Thanks. Daisy is Zander’s daughter,” I explain to Mom.
“Oh, you have a daughter, how lovely. We love children. Can’t wait for grandkids.”
Zander gives me a sidelong glance. “Sam is young. Lots of time for that,” he says.
“Mom, Zander and Daisy will be joining us for the BBQ next weekend. If you’re still planning on having it.”
“Of course we are. A broken arm won’t keep your father down.”
“Speaking of that, why don’t you go have a seat. I’ll get us all coffee and see if I can find anything out.”
“Thank you,” I say, and he brushes his thumb along my cheek before disappearing.
I exhale loudly and sit, staring at the ceiling.
“I believe it’s your father’s heart we should be worried about,” Mom says, and I sit up.
“What’s wrong with his heart?”
She chuckles softly. “When the Hard Hitter shows up for the barbeque, your father’s going to have a heart attack.”
“Oh,” I say, and laugh with her.
“How did you two meet?”
“You remember my friend Quinn? Zander is her brother, and his little girl needed some speech therapy. Wait until you meet her, she’s adorable.”