Chapter Thirty-Nine - Thalia
“I’M PROUD OF you,” Bash says, kissing the back of my hand he’s holding. “Thanks again for coming with me. I know it’s not easy, but I appreciate it.”
“Of course, Mimi deserves to try your pie,” I say, securing the container in my other hand. I needed a break from all the questions about Vera. Grandma and Mom wanted to hear everything, but I wasn’t sure what family-friendly version to tell.
Mimi is flipping through a photo album when we step into her room. Her face lights up at the sight of Sebastian. “Mark!”
Bash leans down to hug her. “Hi, Mimi, I made your pie recipe. We brought you a piece.”
“You brought a girl home?” She beams, standing to come up to me, taking my face in her hands to get a good look at me. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thanks, Mimi.” I smile warmly at her. “I’m Thalia, thanks for having me.” I’ve done some reading on Alzheimer’s, and it’s easier on Mimi to live in her reality than to try to pull her into mine.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” she says, patting my cheek. “You remind me of someone, but I can’t remember who?” Her eyes grow cloudy in confusion, and I offer her the pie.
“It’s okay. Do you want pumpkin pie? It’s delicious,” I say as Bash smiles appreciatively at me.
“I would love some pie! Did you know that’s Mark and Alexander’s favorite?”
~
I can’t sleep. I’m curled up in one of my dad’s armchairs in his study with a mug of hot chocolate.
I know I got the guy and I should be the bigger person here, but Vera was out of line. If it weren’t Thanksgiving with my family here, I would have punched her.
Grandma told me after everyone left that she was rooting for me to hit her and then Grandpa scolded her.
I was relieved when Bash asked me to go with him to visit Mimi, and it was a good break getting out of the house. There were too many questions being asked.
I can’t really make sense of my brain at the moment. It’s just a bunch of thoughts that are all jumbled and crowded together that don’t make sense.
I hear quiet footsteps, turning just in time as Mom pulls the cord on one of the lamps in the study, illuminating the room.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, sliding into the chair opposite of me.
“Nope.”
“A lot happened today. Are you okay?”
I shrug, taking a small sip of my cocoa. “I guess. I don’t know.”
“Is Bash doing okay with everything?” She’s watching me closely. Mom definitely knows there’s something wrong.
“What do you mean?” I ask carefully. I disagree with him hiding the severity of Mimi’s condition, but all I can do is support him.
“How is Mirabelle?” I make a face because it’s weird hearing Mimi called something other than, well…Mimi. “I saw both of your faces when Anna brought her up earlier. She’s not doing well, is she?” Mom presumes sadly, and I hesitate.
“She has good and bad days. I don’t know. Sebastian seems to be okay, but he doesn’t say much about it. I know Bash is afraid.”
Mom sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t blame Sebastian for being afraid. It’s a very scary thing, especially after everything he’s been through with Alexander dying,” she acknowledges quietly. “I hope he knows that we’re here for him if he needs anything.”
“I think he knows. He’s just really stubborn about doing everything himself.” I lean my head against the side of the chair. “Bash was so nervous. He changed his clothes three times because he wanted to impress you guys, and you should have seen the mess he made making that pie. I think every single dish in that kitchen was dirty.”
“I wish you could see how you look at Bash and how he looks at you. It would have made Mirabelle so happy to know you two are together.” Mom’s smile is tender, and I can’t wait to tell Bash about this part. I knew he was worried for nothing. “I hope Sebastian learns to let people help because he’s not alone. I’m glad he has you now, but I worry about your brother. Amelia was the worst.” Mom makes a face, and I laugh in agreement.
“She was a nightmare, but I wouldn’t worry too much about Owen.”
Mom narrows her eyes skeptically at me. “What are you not telling me?”
Being happy for Owen and Blake is easy. I like them together, and they just make sense. “I bet by Christmas, he’ll be dating my friend Blake. She’s some kind of engineering major, and he is crazy about her. I think Blake is waiting on Owen to pull his head out of his ass. His head is so big from his ego, I’m shocked he can’t float.”
“I don’t know where he gets that from, but if he’s happy, that’s all I could ever ask for. That’s all your father and I have ever wanted for the both of you.”
~
We go back to the apartment a few days early because Owen and Bash have practices starting again for their next game. It was supposed to be an away game, but I guess there’s something wrong with the other team’s field, so it was switched to a home game.
I have Bash’s jersey on over my sweatshirt for the first time, and I’m excited to hear what he thinks after the game. My parents are up in the stands, but I wanted to stay on the field with the other photographers. I asked Blake if she could come back, but she had family in town. She picked a good game to miss, the drizzle making it feel ten degrees cooler than it actually is. The goal for today is not to take photos of only Sebastian, but I have a feeling that it’s just not going to go very well.
Partway through the first quarter, I get a head tilt up in acknowledgment from Sebastian when he spots me, andI can’t hide my smile. Kennedy looks confused, noticing the brief exchange. “Am I missing something?” Kennedy asks, and I shrug. We’re not hiding our relationship anymore, but we haven’t screamed it from the rooftops.
“What are you talking about?” I question, adjusting the settings on my camera to account for the lighting and distance. The drizzle is annoying, sticking to the screen of my camera. Thankfully, my camera is waterproof.
She gasps before whispering excitedly. “No fucking way! You’re hooking up with Sebastian Walker. That’s why he just gave you the head nod!”
“Ken, that’s not why he did that. Relax. Bash and I are dating.”
Kennedy asks a slew of questions through the rest of the half, hardly giving me the time to answer her before asking another one. I don’t mind. Most of them are harmless. A few were enough for my face to turn bright red, and not because I was cold. Those are the ones I say no comment to.
At halftime, I wander inside the area next to where the locker rooms are to use the bathroom and grab a bottle of water. It’s nice getting out of the rain, but on my way back to the field, I run straight into none other than Sebastian fucking Walker.
His helmet is in his hand, and a smile peels across his face when he sees me. Bash is wearing a clean jersey, but his hair is slick from the rain. “Hey, you’re looking good out there.” He’s playing really well. It’s probably one of his best games all season, despite the rain.
“And your hat is too big for your head. Are you warm enough?”
I roll my eyes at his question. That’s not what he should be focused on right now. “I’m fine. It’s not too cold.” Actually, it’s really cold, but he’s warm.
“Do you want another jacket? I have an extra hoodie in my locker that will probably fit over your sweatshirt. It’s barely forty degrees out there, and it’s raining. I don’t want you to get sick.” Sebastian leans over me as I rest against the wall. “Have I told you that you look really good in my jersey?” He tilts my chin up gently, and our lips meet. I could really get used to this sneaking around during halftime.
Unfortunately, the sound of someone clearing their throat causes us to break apart. “Walker, Coach wants to talk to you about a play he wants to try if you’re not too busy sucking face with your girlfriend,” Chris says flatly, and Sebastian tugs on my hat, pulling it farther down on my head.
“I’m coming. I was only gone for a minute,” he says, apologetically looking toward me.
I shake my head, pushing him back gently. I haven’t forgotten how pissed Chris was at me. I’d prefer not to push his buttons. “You should go. I didn’t think I’d see you until after the game anyway.”
“Just wait here; I’ll have Eric bring that jacket out,” Sebastian calls over his shoulder, and Chris rolls his eyes.
“Let’s go, lover boy.”
I stifle my laughter to adjust my hat because he’s being dramatic, but if Bash doesn’t mind, then I have no problem taking another one of his jackets. It is chilly, but it could be worse. It’s definitely colder in the Jura mountains.
Eric pokes his head out quickly, tossing the jacket at me with a friendly smile. I tug it over my head, walking back out into the chilly air to resume my spot on the turf.
Chris is going to have to suck it up and get over it because I’m not going anywhere.
We have a significant lead going into the last quarter. Since this half started, Owen has two rushing touchdowns, smoothly darting around the defensive backs. I’ve gotten a decent amount of pictures of his celebrations.
I have the long-lens camera focused on Bash, who is getting set behind his center for the snap, and I wait to get a shot of him gearing up to pass it. Sebastian drops back when out of nowhere, a defensive lineman quickly slips through our O-line, hitting him hard before he has a chance to run or get rid of the ball. Sebastian’s body bounces off the turf before hitting the ground again as the lineman lands hard on him.
My camera falls out of my hands, caught by the strap around my neck. I hold my breath, waiting for him to get up. Please, Bash, just get up. I take the camera off, quickly passing it to Kennedy.
There’s a clammer of whistles, and to my relief, he starts to get up with the help of a teammate. I’m not sure who it is. There are so many of them I can’t keep track. It’s easy to keep track of Bash because he’s one of the taller players. I know exactly where Owen is at all times because he usually has the entire secondary trying to keep him from getting his hands on the ball.
Sebastian’s knees buckle as he tries to take a step. He slumps forward immediately, making no movement to catch himself as he falls to the ground.
I stand frozen as medics run on the field, and then my feet start to move of their own accord.
He’s just lying there, and I need to get to him so Bash knows he’s not alone. He thinks he’s alone, but he’s not. A set of arms catch me by my waist, stopping me before I get more than a few steps off the sidelines.
I try to push the arms off, desperation taking over. “Thalia, no. You can’t be out here,” Chris’s voice says firmly, pulling me tightly against him to lead me back to the sidelines. “You can’t help Bash right now. Let the medics do their jobs.”
I can’t stop the hot tears streaming down my face. “He got hit hard. Bash is going to be okay, right?”
He hesitates, and I try to look back. I could slip under his arm, but Chris is right. I can’t help him right now. “He’ll be fine. He gets hit all the time, and the good thing is Sebastian got up. Owen, you need to get her off this field right now,” he says, and then I’m passed off to my brother.
“Thanks, Chris. Now go talk to Evan. I’m sure he’s shitting his pants right about now. Just cover a few plays with him, and I-I don’t know,” Owen says breathlessly. “Lia, what were you thinking? You can’t fucking run out here,” he snaps harshly, but I know my brother. Owen’s afraid because he saw the exact same thing I did.