Chapter 10 Drew #2
“When I moved to Wisconsin in the seventies, all I had was a bag and a few hard-won school qualifications. But I worked hard, built the firm from the ground up, and fought every day to keep us afloat.” His grandpa wasn’t a man of many words in his everyday life, but since Drew left college, every family dinner had become a lecture.
“I put my blood, sweat, and tears into making sure that you could have a good life without having to struggle as much as we did. But here you are, Andrew, throwing away your—”
Grandma gave Grandpa a look that made him pause midsentence.
“Why won’t you just accept our help, Drew?” Grandpa said, softening his tone. Drew knew he was talking about work and college, but it was easier to just focus on the hotel room.
“Because I don’t want to stay in a grand hotel like some trust-fund baby,” Drew said, ignoring how incompatible the prices on the menu were with his desire to feel like a self-made man.
“But you do have a trust fund, Drew”—his grandma smiled—“and you’re my baby. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
Thandie, who was sitting next to him, stifled a laugh. Drew shot her a sharp look. She made a show of pretending to zip her lips before picking up her phone and pretending to look busy.
“Andrew, it’s not even about the hotel. It’s about your future. What comes next?” Grandpa asked.
“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” said Drew. He did not have a plan.
“You’re a terrible liar, son,” Grandpa said, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair, clearly over the conversation.
“But you would have made a brilliant doctor, Caleb.…” Grandma said, her gaze far away as her sentence trailed off.
Drew stilled, his heartbeat quickening.
Grandpa squeezed his wife’s hand and whispered something only the two of them could hear.
She looked confused and then embarrassed, unable to make eye contact with anyone in the room.
Drew didn’t know anyone called Caleb. Or a man who would have made a brilliant doctor.
But his grandma had said it with complete confidence.
He wanted to correct her but knew it was easier not to.
Her lapses in memory and confusion were becoming more and more frequent, and Drew was powerless to the illness he could see unfolding.
He glanced over at his sister to see her reaction, but she was tapping away at her phone, no doubt texting her team group chat about their plans for the opening ceremony.
Drew sighed in relief, grateful that she hadn’t noticed anything.
He knew it was better to keep Thandie in the dark.
But he couldn’t help but wish he could talk to his sister about it.
Drew glanced over at his grandma, noticing the bags under her eyes that she’d tried to cover up with makeup, the layers of clothing that didn’t quite hide how much weight she’d lost, and the gentle looks his grandpa kept giving her.
Silent reassurances that everything would be okay. But Drew knew it wasn’t true.
“You wanted this your entire life,” Grandma said, back on the topic of his dropping out of college. “I just … I just don’t believe you woke up one morning and randomly changed your mind.”
She was right. But he couldn’t admit it was because he knew she was sick. Thandie still didn’t know, and with the biggest competition of her life just around the corner, telling her the full story just wasn’t worth the risk. So, he changed the conversation to stop any further interrogation.
“What we should really be focusing on is that Thandie’s probably going home with her first Olympic medal this year,” he said, beaming at his sister as she put her phone down. He knew that their grandparents would leave him alone once the topic turned to ice hockey.
“How did practice go, Sugar? Are you ready for the opening ceremony?” Grandma asked, her face lighting up as their drinks arrived. Drew thanked the waiter as he placed a hot Americano on the table. Drew picked it up and sat back, glad to no longer be the focus of attention.
“More than ready,” Thandie said, radiating confidence as she took a sip of her hot lemon-and-ginger tea. “The girls are killing it. We’re all on top of our game and that gold medal is ours.”
“How about the competition?” their grandpa asked, his eyes lighting up as he doted on Thandie. He was a die-hard ice hockey fan, always excited to hear the inside scoop.
“Weaker than ever,” Thandie said, smiling mischievously before her face darkened. “And guess who I saw watching us from the stands yesterday, looking like she’d seen a ghost?”
“Who?” Grandpa asked. He loved the behind-the-scenes drama as much as the sport.
“The girl who almost ruined my career,” Thandie said. Drew tried to trace his memory back to 2022, to remember the exact match that led to her injury. But his sister had been playing ice hockey since they were kids, so all the dramatic tournaments blurred into one.
“Were you okay seeing her?” Drew asked, concerned.
He didn’t like knowing that anyone could have the ability to throw her off her game.
Because he knew just how hard Thandie had worked to get here.
The months of physical therapy, years of self-doubt, and countless days spent training to get back to her preinjury form.
She deserved this more than anyone, so he refused to let anything get in his sister’s way.
“More than okay. It kind of lit a fire in me. Reminded me what I almost lost and how determined I am to make it right this year,” Thandie said, tapping the table in excitement. “We’re going to crush her team. And I’m going to enjoy it more than anything I’ve ever done.”
“Be nice,” their grandma said reflexively as she lifted her teacup. But Thandie wasn’t fazed.
“Nice doesn’t win medals”—she grinned—“and I’m going home with gold.”