Page 107 of Play the Last Card
“Meghan, player’s box, right.” I can hear Katie trying to push her way through the crowds.
I close my eyes again and focus on the background sounds I can hear through the phone. Zoning in on the muffled voice of my best friend seems to help and the tears begin to slow down. In any other situation, at any other moment of my life, hearing Katie argue with different members of the staff at the stadium would be downright comedic.
Maybe one day, we will marvel and laugh at her ability to tear through what is probably a six-foot something security guard and into the player’s box.
I glance at the TV. The commentators are filling the time between plays and the same time I hear my name coming through the phone I have pressed to my ear, they comment on Scott.
“—Harvey didn’t even see it coming. Did you see how he landed on his right shoulder? That can’t be good for the throwing arm, no sir. Hopefully it’s superficial, otherwise the winning trade that was speculated to take Boston to the Super Bowl may just have ended his season.”
“Ivy? Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” I whisper in reply.
“He’s heading for Boston General. He’s okay but the physio isn’t convinced and wants more scans. Meghan asked if you want her to put your name on the list for security to let you through?” Katie speaks so quickly my brain takes a moment to process her words.
He’s okay.
Not convinced. More scans.
Security.
Lists.
Boston General.
“He’s okay?” I ask, needing more certainty.
“That’s what they’re saying.”
“Okay. I …” My head is spinning but I’m already moving, my body making the decision for me. My keys are in my hand before I answer Katie. “Yes. Please. Ask her to put me on the list. But, Katie, they can’t tell him. I don’t want him to be disappointed if I can’t—it’s just that … it’s snowing.”
“Fuck … do you—I can come get you?” she asks. I love her. I love her with everything I am. Because in the moment, regardless of the crowds, and the game, and the hordes of people she’ll have to drag Grant through just to get him to leave before the game is over, she would move mountains so I didn’t have to drive in the snow.
Not this time.
This time, I will be okay.
“No. I will be fine. I think—will you tell her?”
“Yes. Of course I will.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I hit the garage door button the moment I close the driver’s door behind me.
The snow falls lightly beyond the cover of my garage. The phone connects to my car’s Bluetooth and Katie’s goodbye echoes around me.
“Text me when you get there. You’ll be fine. It’s not heavy and should be stopping soon. I’ll follow your location as well, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper back, eyes locked on the almost transparent specks of snow through my back windscreen.
“Drive safe. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I take a deep breath, put the car into reverse and slowly back out.
***
The main lobby of Boston General is wall to wall filled with reporters. I regret not at least putting a pair of jeans on as a replacement for my workout leggings. I fold the ends of the oversized sweater over my hands, keys clutched in one hand and my phone in the other. I can at least be glad for the cap left on the back seat of my car.