Page 39 of Playing for Love

Gabe

After my brief conversation with Coach, he agreed that it was a good idea for me to be there for Tate’s release from the hospital since he had no family or friends outside the team. I wouldn’t miss anything, technically speaking. Though I’d normally get to the stadium by eight, we didn’t need to report for film review until ten.

I threw on jeans, an old Auburn University T-shirt, and with my Oakleys in place against the bright sunshine and a Red Sox baseball cap on against recognition by strangers, I jumped into the Escalade and headed to Mass General. I’d called ahead and got permission to park in the valet area out front. It didn’t hurt that my name was Gabe Wyatt to be granted that privilege. On the other hand, I had to keep the sunglasses on and baseball cap pulled down as I went inside and through the lobby crowded with people coming and going at this busy hour.

When I got to Tate’s room, Mia was there, helping him get settled in the standard wheelchair to exit the hospital—not that he needed it.

“Just in the nick of time,” I said.

“Did you bring the Escalade?” Tate asked.

I nodded. Mia met my eyes. “All the paperwork is taken care of. We can go now. Where are you parked? You’ll need to bring the car around.”

“No need. I’m out front in the valet area.” I shrugged at her look of surprise.

The tension shrouded us as I took over pushing the wheelchair, forcing Mia to walk ahead of us. She led the way to the elevator. No one spoke on the way down, not even when the elevator doors opened to a view of the lobby area filled with sports media types, all instantly recognizable to me.

“Shit,” I said.

“Fucking shit,” Tate said.

“It’s just the press. You guys must be used to this—talking to them.” Mia said this as she backed away from us, letting me push forward while she dropped back.

“Doesn’t mean we like it,” Tate said. “A person goes to the dentist. Doesn’t mean he likes it.”

I grunted my agreement then turned around to see her stopped a few feet behind us. I had two seconds tops before the press swarmed.

“What are you doing?”

“You go ahead without me. I’ll catch up with you at Tate’s apartment.”

I swore under my breath. This wasn’t going well, nothing like I’d anticipated. I thought we’d have a pleasant morning, get Tate settled. Since when had I lost my ability to read the line? I was definitely slipping and I hoped to hell the slippage didn’t carry over onto the field.

“Let’s get on with it,” Tate said.

I pushed forward and we stopped in the lobby to a million questions, most of which we couldn’t answer. Skated around answering. Were forbidden from answering. It always made me feel sleazy to try to stifle the press, so I did the best I could to give them something, even if it wasn’t what they were looking for.

“What are you doing here? The team sent you?” The question was addressed to me and this was one I could answer fully and honestly.

“I’m here taking care of a teammate and friend. One of my brothers. Least I can do.”

Tate spoke up, “I have no one in Boston except my teammates and Wyatt is the real deal. Team leader and authentically decent human being. If I had to be injured and alone, I’m glad it was here with this team.”

After that I didn’t pay too much attention. Most of the questions had been asked and answered and I pushed forward. I knew Fontanna’s answer to the reporter was more a message to me, an indirect thank-you from a guy who didn’t want to express it directly.

When we got outside, he stood, moving his body gingerly, and I helped him climb into the front seat with as little pain and swearing as possible. Only a half dozen fucks and a couple of goddammits.

When I hopped into the driver’s seat, I swept the baseball cap off and started the car. “You’re welcome.”

He gave me a sideways glance and then a smile, pained as it was. “Just make sure you go slow over potholes or I take it all back.”

True to her word, Mia was waiting at Tate’s apartment when we got there, and between the two of us we helped him climb the stairs. By the time we got him comfortable in a chair, he’d broken a sweat from the pain.

Mia brought him a glass of water and two pills, which he took with a shaky hand.

“Damn, this broken bone thing is painful.”

“The meds will take the edge off,” Mia said.