“I know.”
“I’m not in his frat.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you—”
“I do,” she assured me. “Really, and he’s been asking for you.”
“Asking for me?”
“Yes.”
“Ma’am, I don’t think—”
“He’s been calling for a Vince. I’m not sure how many he knows. When I checked his phone, only your number came up.”
Which was funny in its own right, because when had he had time to put my number in his phone? And since my number was in his phone, why hadn’t he called me? Even once?
“Vince?”
“Sorry. Would it be all right with you if I came to the hospital?”
“I would love that, actually,” she replied, and her voice hitched up. “Tell me, do you have a lot of friends in common?”
She wasn’t really listening to me, and I got that. The strain had to be crushing. “No, ma’am, as I said, we’re not friends, we know none of the same people, and we definitely don’t travel in the same circles.”
I had six friends, period. I had acquaintances and people who took pity on me and fed me, like Jason and his wife, but actual people who liked me right off the bat with my prickly exterior… there were maybe three. All the others had been lured by the charm of Matt and found out that I wasn’t so bad. As a rule, I repelled people instead of drawing them close. Except Matt—he was the exception, and I would need to call that anomaly when I got off the phone with the mother of my one-night stand.
God.
What was I doing in Phoenix?
“Vince?”
“Sorry,” I sighed.
“So really, when can you be here?”
“I just wanted to be in and out. I don’t want to be in anybody’s—”
“He is very hurt, Vince. I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news, but truly… it’s worse than you see. When he was buried in the pile… all the weight did so much damage with the angle that his arm landed in.”
“How much damage?”
“It’s not just about him playing again at this point,” she explained, her voice going thready. “It’s about him being able to make a fist or lift or hold… anything. At the moment the entire arm is useless.”
It was weird, and I knew it was bad, selfish of me, but all I could think was… that’s okay. He still had one good arm to hug me with and hold me down with. That was all I needed.
“I’ve never seen him in so much pain.”
My stomach flipped over.
“I feel very helpless right now.”
I didn’t even know what to say. I just wanted to wrap him in my arms and make it better. Whatever Carson needed, whatever I could give. Anything. I would do… anything.
“If you want to tell people, do it.”
What? “Oh no. I wouldn’t tell anyone anything that his family didn’t share. Ever.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but… he needs comfort, and normally, with me being his mother, if I’m the one holding his hand, that fixes things, or at least helps.”
“Of course.”
“But not this time. He’s longing for someone else, and my suspicion leads me to you, since it’s you he’s been calling for in his sleep. So I need you to—”
“I don’t think it’s—”
“I honestly don’t care what it is right now, Vince.” She sighed deeply. “I just need him to open his eyes and see a different face.”
“Okay.”
“When can you be here?”
“I’m at the airport, and I just got in, so as soon as I figure out where the bus—”
“Take a cab, Vince. Call me when you’re close to the hospital, and I’ll come down and pay for it. Please.”
She was acting scary, and I had a terrible thought. “He’s not going to die, is he? I mean, there’s nothing vital that was hurt, right?”
“His throwing arm was vital, Vince. Football was all he ever wanted to do.”
But that wasn’t true. He had told me himself. “I’ll call you when I’m downstairs.”
“Thank you,” she said, and she sounded more than relieved. She sounded grateful.
Hanging up, I went to look for a cab.
There were big news outlets with their cameras outside the hospital, inside as well, crowding the halls, but they didn’t bother me because why would they? I went up in the elevator, and after I got off and walked into the waiting area, I called Amelia Cress from there. I saw more reporters and police officers there to keep the press at bay and just… people. Every available seat was taken and it was wall to wall, everyone crushed together like sardines. When the reporters moved, shutters flashing, I saw a couple of police officers part them for a woman who emerged from the sea of faces to greet me.
She was beautiful and golden, and she looked a hundred years old at the exact same time. Her eyes, the same violet his were, locked on me.