Page 33 of Kickoff
“Yep. I chose my favorite ones because I had no idea what you like.”
“Huh…pink?”
“You relax. There are blankets and pillows on the couch. Now go. Nurse’s orders.” I waved her away with a hand. “I’ll bring you that drink and then finish up here.”
“Thanks.” She padded to the living room, leaving me alone with my own thoughts.
Melinda was curled up into a ball on the couch when I joined her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her eyes were glassy, her teeth digging into her bottom lip like she was in extreme pain. “Hey, talk to me. Where does it hurt?”
“It feels as if someone is stabbing my right side again.” She pointed to her abdomen, and tears filled her eyes. “It hurts like hell.” She took a few deep breaths. “It comes and goes. Hard to explain. It’s not much of a burning knife now but more like somebody is sawing my body in two and then taking a break before getting back at it with a vengeance.”
Her forehead wasn’t hot, so at least the fever hadn’t come back. “You’re not feverish, but let me grab you more medicine. It’s not normal to be in so much pain. You sure you don’t wanna go to the clinic?”
“Nah. The pain meds helped earlier. I’ll be good. I just need to take it easy for a little while.”
Once the pain decreased and she relaxed a bit, I spread a blanket over her and positioned the pillows behind her back so she could take a sip.
She ate half a bowl of soup after she made sure she could keep the sports drink in. “Whoa, you were not kidding. This is delicious. My compliments to the chef when you see him.”
“I will. Mom always says you should sprinkle love in your food when you prep it. That always makes it better. Shhh…it’s our family’s secret ingredient. Don’t tell anyone.”
She mimicked zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me. If you decide to become a chef someday, I’ll eat at your restaurant.”
“I’ll reserve a table for you by the window.”
Melinda nodded once. “We have a deal.” She handed me her bowl, and I discarded it on the coffee table. “If you were not destined to play football, what would you do?”
“Career-wise?”
She hugged her folded legs, resting her chin on her knees. “Yeah.”
“That’s a good question. I don’t wanna disappoint you, but I wouldn’t work as a chef.”
“Bummer.”
“I know.” I thought for a second. “I love fixing cars, so that could be an option, but I don’t feel like it would fulfill me. I need action in my life, something that keeps my blood pumping or requires my full attention. I would also love to start something. A business, a foundation, a…huh…whatever. Have my own venture to nurture and do something I’m proud of. I never really thought about it before.”
“I like that. I can see you as a CEO or in an important position. You possess natural leadership. It would suit you. I just don’t see you dressed in a suit working behind a desk and carrying a briefcase around and wearing Oxford leather shoes.”
“God, me neither.” I scratched the column of my throat. “I would be terrible at it. Just thinking about wearing a tie every day and I feel claustrophobic.”
She snickered. “Yeah. Forget about the suit and tie five days a week. You look better in jeans anyway.”
“I do?”
She cast a glance down. “It’s my feverish brain talking. Don’t listen to everything I say.”
“Stop making excuses. You don’t have a fever right now. Anyway, while we’re at it, anything else I should add to the growing list of things you like about me?”
She pinched her lips together and shook her head.
“Fine. I’ll let it go for now. What about you? What do you wanna study in college?”
She smiled. “Public relations. I love the idea of helping someone or an organization improve their image. Even if they mess up, everyone deserves a second chance in life.”
“Everyone?”
“No. Not really, but most people do. I would have to work for someone with a conscience, though. I would never be able to help…let’s say…a business that exploits others or someone who abuses other people…or who harms children.” She yawned. “Anyway, sorry I’m boring you.”
