Chapter 29 #2
I’m looking at flights. I’ll let you know when I’m coming.
Plopping the phone back on the desk, Caleb leaned forward and hung his head in his hands.
Stage four lung cancer.
He didn’t like his dad all that much, but shit—he didn’t wish that kind of hell on anyone. From a quick Google search and a very thorough rabbit-hole explanation from Jamie, he was fairly certain the symptoms were absolutely horrible.
For the first time in his life, he found himself pitying his father.
“Caleb?” Angie’s voice was closer now, and when he lifted his head, he saw her standing a few feet from his desk. “What’s going on?”
Caleb sighed. “Just… still feeling weird about Jamie biking to work.” His eyes flicked briefly to his phone before he looked back at her. “And my dad’s sick. Looks like I might have to go back to Ohio.”
Angie’s brown eyes softened with pity. “I’m so sorry.” She dragged over a chair, spun it around, and straddled it, leaning her arms across the back. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Are you just trying to get out of your PT?”
“Yep. You caught me.”
Caleb rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, Ang. I’m just… tired.” His shoulders felt heavy, and the dull ache in his chest made it feel like gravity was pulling him toward the floor. “I’ve been looking forward to the end of the season, and now I’ll probably have to miss the last few games.”
When he looked up, Angie’s frown had deepened. Guilt slid into the buffet of emotions currently clouding Caleb’s mind. He felt like a dark cloud, bringing everyone down.
“Jesus, now I’m here complaining to you about the season,” he continued, shaking his head, “when you’ve been dealing with this injury…”
“Hey.” Angie nudged the chair a little closer. “It’s not like that, okay? You’re just as much a part of the team as the rest of us.” She shrugged lightly. “My pain isn’t more important than yours and vice versa. Your dad’s sick, dude. If you have to go home, you have to go home.”
“Yeah.”
She tilted her head at him, like she wanted him to say more. Usually, he wasn’t this quiet or gloomy. “Gotta do what you gotta do for family, right?”
“Yeah. Family.” Caleb glanced down at his phone again, fingers itching to check Jamie’s location.
It was entirely possible he was fucking losing his mind, but he just needed to know he was okay.
Completely made-up images of Jamie being struck by a bus filled his mind and, with them, came a wave of nausea—
“Alright.” Ang slammed her palms onto the desk, startling Caleb. His eyes snapped open—when had he squeezed them shut?—and he watched as she stood. Pushing her chair away, she nodded toward the exercise mats.
“On the floor. Let’s go.” Caleb stood immediately because Angie was using her mom voice, and her mom voice was terrifying.
“What are we doing?” he asked as she led him over and dropped onto one of the mats. She patted the ground beside her, grabbed a couple of yoga blocks, and then reached over to maneuver his shoulders until he was lying back with his chest open.
“Are we doing yoga?”
She snorted as she settled into the same position beside him. “No. We are going to lie like this and talk.”
Caleb felt ridiculous, but he had to admit it felt pretty good on his back.
“And then we’ll go eat,” she added.
Caleb frowned up at the fluorescent lights. “Are you mothering me right now? Putting me down for a nap and giving me a snack?”
“Kinda. Now talk.”
Letting gravity take over, Caleb melted into the mat. The block wedged between his shoulder blades opened up his chest and, despite the alarm bells in his mind telling him to go check Jamie’s location, he felt some of the tightness in his body ease.
“What’s the number one thing stressing you out right now?” she asked.
“Jamie.”
“Okay.” From the corner of his eye, he saw her adjust her ponytail to splay above her head so that she could lie flat. “What’s going on with him? General stuff?”
“He’s cleared to bike again, and I bought him one for his birthday a few weeks ago. But this morning, I watched his location, and it took him two hours to get to work. I think he might’ve walked.”
“How long does it usually take him?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Huh.” Angie thought about that. “I mean… he was probably nervous, right? Or maybe he stopped for a coffee?”
“It’s possible, but what if he gets so nervous on the road that he gets into another—” Caleb stopped, unable to say the word.
“Accident?” Angie finished gently.
He swallowed hard and nodded. “I know it’s fucking stupid.
I can’t live my life wondering if Jamie’s going to get hurt again.
But watching his little dot today on the way to work…
he made it halfway there and then just stopped.
” He shuddered. “Ang, I practically lost it. I called him three times, and then I called Jean-Baptiste.”
Angie let out a low whistle. “Must’ve been bad for you to call your arch nemesis.”
“Jean-Baptiste is not my arch nemesis.”
“Okay.”
“Seriously, I’m so fucking grateful he answered,” Caleb continued. “We were both freaking out for like an hour. I think… I think Jamie stopped and—I don’t even know. Got a coffee and walked his bike the rest of the way. But he hasn’t said…”
Angie reached over and wrapped her hand around his forearm. “Caleb. It’s perfectly normal to worry about Jamie. What you both went through was extremely traumatic.”
“Nothing happened to me.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
Swallowing against the burn in his throat, Caleb turned his head toward her. Angie’s hand was small where it held his arm, but the contact felt nice. He hadn’t realized he’d needed it until she’d offered it up to him. Maybe it was a mother thing, but somehow, Angie always knew exactly what to do.
It made him miss his own mother.
“Jamie loves you,” she added. “You know that, right?”
A tight choke rose in his throat.
“I think you need to talk to him about these worries. Would it help if we went to see him?”
Caleb’s head snapped toward her. “What? Now?”
“Yeah, you dolt.” She sat up and shrugged. “Freya’s with her dad, I’ve got nothing better to do and”—she glanced at the clock on the wall—“it’s only half past three.”
Rolling his eyes, Caleb muttered, “You could be doing your exercises.”
Angie stood and offered him a hand. “This is more important today.”
As Caleb reached up and let her haul him to his feet, the door squeaked open. They both turned as Halcombe strode into the room, his eyes immediately locking onto Caleb.
“Ah, Mister Reed. You’re still here.”
“Yeah. I’m still here.”
“We were just heading out,” Angie said curtly. After receiving a glare from Halcombe, she amended, “Coach.”
He gave her a brief nod, looking her over. “Getting cleared soon?”
Angie chewed the inside of her cheek. Halcombe didn’t really care about her recovery. He just wanted his starting defensewoman back before they played Arsenal.
“Yes, Coach. Very soon.”
Halcombe’s gaze drifted back to Caleb, eyes narrowing slightly like he was a small insect and needed to decide if it was worth the effort to squash him. Ever since Caleb had sent that email, the energy between them had been taut with tension.
Caleb forced his friendliest tone. “How’d Nate like the cards?”
Halcombe moved toward the wall to study the training schedule. “The what?”
“The trading cards. I gave him a pack last week.”
Halcombe only grunted in response. Caleb slung his bag over his shoulder and glanced at Angie, who was in the middle of a spectacular eye roll.
“Alright then,” Caleb said. “Goodnight, Coach Halcombe.”
He held the door open for Angie and got the hell out of there. “Fucking prick,” Angie muttered as the door swung closed. Caleb wondered briefly if Halcombe had heard her as they climbed into his VW and headed toward the British Library to surprise Jamie.