Page 72 of Special Delivery

“Better luck next time, suckers,” he tells Oliver and Wes, shaking their hands. Oliver rolls his eyes at him, and Parker pats my back. “I have to admit, you’re a much better player when you’re getting some.”

I shake my head while Oliver lets out a chuckle. He’s not fully wrong. I was on fire today. Though I suppose it has more to do with not having my body drained by pain. We head into the lockers, and instead of grabbing his things for the shower, Parker places his stuff into his back and zips it shut.

He notices my raised eyebrows. “I know, I know. You hoped I’d stay for drinks. But unfortunately, no can do. I need to get back home as soon as possible, so I’ll have to shower there.”

“Nanny problems?” Wes asks.

“That would suggest I actually have a nanny, and that is currently not the case.”

“Again?” I throw my dirty shirt into the bag, pulling a clean towel out.

After Chrissy’s long-term nanny retired months ago, Parker had terrible luck finding a new one. There’s been ones who were batshit crazy, ones who have waited naked in Parker’s bed for him to come home or he found them sniffing his underwear (we made a different category, though they were definitely also batshit crazy), and ones who couldn’t handle Chrissy’s personality. Chrissy is an amazing, smart kid, but she sometimes lacks filter. A professional should be able to handle an eight-year-old’s comments, but that hadn’t been the case thus far.

“Yup. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t find the right one soon.” With Parker’s twenty-four-hour firefighter shifts and the fact that he’s a single dad, the nanny has to live with them at least a few nights a week so they can take care of Chrissy overnight. “I won’t be able to do my job.”

There’s a sadness to his voice, one that forces my throat to constrict. Unlike me, Parker loves his job. He knew he wanted to be a firefighter since middle school, and he never gave that up. He’d be devastated to leave it, but he would if it meant taking better care of his daughter.

“Fuck, man,” Wes murmurs.

Oliver simply glances down. Being married to Parker’s sister, and them often jumping in for childcare, he knows the story better than all of us.

“You know I’m here, basically jobless, ready to take care of her whenever you need?” I add.

“I know, and I’m looking forward to your sleepover, trust me. But we still need to find a permanent solution.” He waves me off. “I’ll figure something out. Don’t forget to read the book for our next meeting.” His smile firmly back in place, he throws the gym bag over his shoulder. “See you next week.”

The three of us shower, before Oliver announces he’s leaving, too. He rarely stays for drinks, so it’s not surprising.

“Are you in a hurry, too?” I ask Wes as he ties his sneakers.

“No, I have time. Besides, there’s something I need to tell you.” He swallows audibly after that ominous sentence, and I’m on edge until the moment we sit down at the cafe and order our coffees.

I don’t push him, letting him start at his own pace.

“Remember the time I told you my mom was doing some scans a few weeks ago?” he eventually asks.

“I do.” I’ve thought about that plenty of times in the meantime but decided not to probe.

“Well, the results came back.” His fingers fidget, ramping my nerves up. “She has cancer.”

“Fuck, man. I’m so sorry.” A rock settles in my stomach.

“They found a lump in her breast and they know it’s not good. They’re doing more tests now before they decide on a treatment plan.” His voice is low, as if he’s afraid it’ll break.

“How are you feeling?”

“Numb.” He huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. I haven’t been sleeping much, going over every single research article there is, but the doctors still don’t know enough to make predictions. They’re being cautious.”

“Of course. How is she handling it?”

“As well as you might think. On one hand, she’s smiling from ear to ear, trying to convince me she’s fine, but on the other, I caught her on her way to make her will the other day, so…”

“Fuck, that’s dark. But it will be fine, right? They have plenty of options?” I don’t know if I’m asking him or telling him.

“They do. And hopefully, they discovered it early enough. It still sucks, though.” He offers a sad smile.

“Of course it sucks. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“I know. Just don’t tell Parker yet. He’d go into Dad mode, trying to make everything better, and I’m not ready for it now.”