I Wish (25 page)

“Were you watching?” my brother asked Grant.

“The whole game.”

“You weren’t talking to Lacey?”

Grant gave me a half-smile. “I’ve hardly exchanged a word with your sister.”

“Awesome.” Henry punched me in the side. “Can we leave now?”

Somebody had too much energy, which an entire soccer game had been unable to drain. “I’d like to speak to your coaches first.”

“Can I go to the playground?”

“Sure, I’ll find you.”

He gave me a thumbs-up, hijacked his friend Reynolds, and raced to the playground.

I turned to Grant a little nervously. This could be awkward—the coward facing the brave one for the first time. “Hey.”

“Hello.” He smiled. Not a smug one, either. A
happy to see you
smile. “I missed you.”

Relief flowed, pure and sweet. I hadn’t ruined everything. “You’re not mad?”

“How could I be? I overwhelmed you.”

We were still partners. I wasn’t clear what kind, but it was all good. Still, I couldn’t say his words back to him because I couldn’t describe how I felt yet. “Grant? I don’t know—”

“Shhh,” he said. “There isn’t time to say what we need to. We’re fine.”

I nodded, glad for the reprieve. “Come on. Let’s go and check on Eli.”

It was the first time I’d met the adult coach. While Grant asked Eli about his knee, I listened to Coach Makanui gush over my brother. Very cool. My mom had been right all along. Henry was an asset to the team and extraordinarily talented and lots of other glowing adjectives.

A crowd of parents had formed behind us, waiting to speak with them. Grant and I were turning away when we heard a scream.

The piercing cry twitched my nerves like an electric shock. “Henry!”

Grant was already running toward the playground at superhuman speed.

I raced after him. Henry was a short distance away, lying on his back in the mulch under a play structure. Reynolds stood, stiff and horrified, at his side.

Grant knelt. “Be still. It’s going to be fine.” His hands hovered an inch above Henry’s head, then passed swiftly down his body. When the inspection was complete, Grant made a noncommittal grunt.

“What happened?” I asked, plunging to the ground beside my brother.

Reynolds said, “He fell off the fort. It was an accident.”

Pain contorted my brother’s ashen face.

“What hurts, little man?”

“My leg.” Henry moaned.

I could see why. It seemed to twist at an odd angle. “Anywhere else?”

Grant shook his head. “Just the leg.”

I met his gaze. “How do you know?”

“Trust me.”

“I do.” Completely.

Other people were running up. “What’s going on?” someone asked.

“I fell.” Henry groaned.

Coach Makanui squatted to take a closer look at the angle of Henry’s leg. “I think it’s broken, buddy.”

I gasped, then looked at Grant. He nodded.

The coach rose. “Let me see if I can find something to splint it until we can get you to the Emergency Room.” He took off.

By now, a limping Eli had arrived as well as both soccer teams, their families, and a few spectators who had nothing to do with us at all. One of the bystanders said, “The team insurance won’t cover this. It’s not sanctioned play.”

I looked at the loud-mouthed parent. “Back off,” I said, cold fury making the words carry. The man slid away.

My eyes sought Eli, seeking confirmation. “Is that man right?”

He gave a curt nod.

I quaked on the inside. Hospitals meant hospital bills. And while my own health care was covered pretty well because of my dad, Mom and Henry’s coverage sucked.

Two fat tears rolled down Henry’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Lacey. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s all right.” I brushed the sweat-soaked bangs from his forehead and tried my best to look like everything was fine and I wasn’t panicking.

“No, it isn’t. You don’t have to take me to the hospital.”

“Of course we do.”

“No, Lacey. We can’t afford it.” He scrubbed at his eyes with dirty fists. “I shouldn’t’ve been climbing so high.”

Henry’s words cut me to the quick. What had I done to my brother? Had I turned him into the same coin-counting freak I was? Had I made him afraid to be a little boy? “Don’t worry, Henry,” I said in the most unconcerned tone I could muster. “We can handle emergencies. I promise.” My gaze met Grant’s. There was real concern in the depths of his eyes. “I wish you could do something.”

A sound escaped his lips—a searing, unearthly sound—as if he too suffered. One hand clamped around Henry’s knee and the other around his ankle. Grant said, for my ears only, “I can fix it. It will cause him an instant of hideous pain. Then it will be over.”

“Do it.”

Henry’s scream ripped through us all.

“Are you crazy?” One of the soccer parents grabbed Grant by the shoulder and knocked him back.

“It’s okay,” Eli said, gesturing the parent away. “He’s a friend.”

Coach Makanui had returned with a first-aid kit. Popping open a lid, he drew out a temporary splint. “This won’t feel good, buddy.”

“I’m fine now. Grant fixed me.” Henry sat up, flexed his foot, and then stood. There were gasps of surprise from the crowd.

“Whoa. Sit back down here, please,” Coach said. “We need to get that leg X-rayed.”

“But it doesn’t hurt.” My brother waited with impatience while the older man wrapped the splint about his leg.

“Henry, you need to see a doctor, and I’m taking you,” Coach said. “Is there a volunteer who can help me carry our patient to a car?”

Before anyone could respond, Henry stood, hobbled a few steps, and said, “See. I’m fine. We don’t have to go to the hospital.”

Eli shot me a sympathetic glance as he dropped a firm hand on my brother’s shoulder. “I think it’s best for us to go anyway. Just in case.”

Coach Makanui and another parent carried a still-protesting Henry to the parking lot.

Eli glanced at me. “Do you have your car with you?”

“No, I walked.”

“Then ride with me.”

“Thanks.” I started to follow Eli, but a light touch on my arm stopped me. It was Grant. I reached for his hand, needing its comfort, however briefly. “Are you coming?”

“I’ll run home and get Crystal. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”

My brother rested in supreme enjoyment atop the hospital bed, sipping a juice box and flipping through a new graphic novel. The attention had succeeded in distracting him.

“They have to X-ray Henry’s leg,” Coach Makanui said.

I shook my head emphatically for the thousandth time.

“Lacey,” Eli said, his eyes narrowed. “How can you be so certain?”

Too bad that nobody would believe the real reason. “Henry is walking on the leg without pain. He wouldn’t do that if it were broken.”

The doctor gestured impatiently. “An X-ray is a prudent precaution.”

“No,” I said. Henry’s leg wasn’t broken. I knew this to be true. X-rays would be an
unnecessary
precaution.

The doctor shrugged. “Perhaps we should wait until a parent arrives.”

As if on cue, my mother rushed into the Emergency Department, surprisingly calm and take-charge. “I’m Crystal Jones, Henry’s mother. Tell me what’s going on.”

“We think it would be wise to X-ray his leg, Mrs. Jones.”

“Then go ahead.”

Some of the hospital staff looked at me with smirks on their faces. I grabbed my mom’s arm and pulled her to the side. “You’re throwing away money. Look at him.”

“The doctor recommends it.”

“Grant says it isn’t broken.”

“Grant isn’t a doctor.”

“He’s better than one.”

She lowered her voice. “We have to be sure. Now I know your focus is on the money, but mine has to be on Henry.”

Her statement stung me into silence. How could she possibly believe that Henry’s health and happiness weren’t the most important things in my life?

She turned her back on me and spoke normally. “Give my son the X-ray,” she said to the hospital staff. To Henry, “How are you, sweetie?”

“Great.” He pointed to a nearby tray, covered with many empty snack containers. “They have lots of good food here.”

We had the verdict two hours later. Not broken.

“It’s better knowing for sure,” my mother said after the coach dropped us off at home.

Would she be saying that when she got the bill?

We barely had Henry settled in front of the TV before the doorbell rang. And then rang again. And then rang some more. By the end of the day, the entire soccer team, with their parents holding aluminum containers, came by the house. And not only wiggling third-grade boys. Most of them brought along wiggling toddler siblings.

We’d had more people tramping through here today than in the past year combined. It was weird. And nice. I liked the feel of laughter inside these walls.

The timing was good too—from the hostess end of it. The house hadn’t looked this great since we moved in.

Okay, so maybe the kitchen didn’t look that great at the moment. I stood in the doorway and surveyed the mess. Trash overflowed the garbage can. The table was a disaster. Puddles of juice sat drying on the floor. The kitchen needed major cleaning. I was glad of something to do. It would keep my mind off the hospital bill a little longer.

Maybe I should pull out Henry’s health insurance policy. Josh had renewed it not long before he died, which meant it would expire soon. I wasn’t sure what it covered in emergencies. We’d never had to use it before.

Maybe I would let it go until the bill came in.

I picked up a bottle of homemade kitchen cleaner, a few rags, and got to work.

The doorbell rang yet again. It was Eli. “I brought a few things.” He had a huge fruit basket in one hand and a paper grocery bag in the other.

I led the way to the kitchen. “Thanks for giving me a ride to the hospital and for…well, just everything.”

“My pleasure. How’s the patient?”

“Popular.”

He laughed as he considered the dishes and trays stacked on the counter. No room there. He set the fruit basket on the table and then, before I could stop him, opened the door to the pantry. He paused, taking in the still-sparse shelves. Bracing a forearm on the doorframe, he looked at me over his shoulder. “Lacey, please, can I—”

“It’s the end of the month. Everything will be good in a couple of days.” I pulled the bag from his fingers, slipped under his arm, and stepped into the pantry. The items went up as quickly as I could make them.

“Lacey.” His voice held quiet sympathy. “What else can I do?”

I folded the bag and slid it onto a recycling rack. “Say hi to Henry.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I told you. We’re fine.” I gave him a big, bright smile—the effect lessened by my big, flushed cheeks—and shooed him away from the pantry, pulling the door shut behind me.

His body blocked my path. I stopped, confused about what to do or say next.

He laid a gentle hand on my arm. “Kimberley explained her condition to me last night on the drive home.”

I bobbed my head. Why had he brought this up?

“She hides it pretty well. I would’ve never guessed.” He stepped back, his hand dropping away, giving me a little breathing room. “What you did last night and what you did today were amazing. You took over, and you made things better.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, brushing past him.

“So where’s your brother now?”

Was this horribly awkward conversation finally coming to an end? “On the deck, with Mom and Reynolds Samm and some of the others.”

Eli walked to the back door and hesitated, one hand on the knob. “I want to help. Just so you know, I’m going to keep asking.” The door clicked behind him.

With Eli gone, I busied myself putting away the fruit. Most of it could go on the table in a bowl, but the two ripe peaches went into the fridge, right next to four aluminum trays of macaroni and cheese and two apple pies. Both dishes were Henry’s favorites, information he had apparently mentioned in front of his soccer teammates and their mothers. The Linden-Jones family would have plenty of empty calories for the next week.

It took until sunset for all of the visitors to leave. The patient and our mother retired to her room to read library books side-by-side while I scrubbed the kitchen. Once the cleaning was done, I stumbled out to the front porch, worn-out and sticky-hot.

Grant waited on the swing. He rose as I approached.

“Where have you been all afternoon?” I asked, leaning into him.

“Inside the music box.” A light kiss brushed my hair. “It was best.”

I nodded and yawned. “I think I’ll sit.”

“Allow me.” A moment later, he was on the swing with me in his lap, hugged against him.

I loved being held by him. “If your sense of smell is so good, how can you stand to be near me?”

He laughed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Such a gentleman.” I shut my eyes, content to drift and doze. The swing rocked gently. When his arms settled more securely around me, I snuggled deeper into them. This whole physical-contact-at-every-opportunity thing could become quite addictive.

“How are you?” His voice was quiet with concern.

“Good.” I hoped he didn’t want to talk. Vegging was fine.