Page 11 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Well, your lungs sound fine, but you’re nasally, and you sound like your sinuses are congested. Diagnosis: head cold. Drink plenty of fluids, and yes, chicken broth⁠—”

“It’s yucky⁠—”

“Drink it. You need calories and fluids. Otherwise, you could get sicker and need poking to get better.”

I smiled as he grumbled while picking up the mug. The broth had to be cold or lukewarm now, which was indeed yucky.

Once Maxie finally downed his chicken juice and took some meds, I followed Phoenix to the office.

“Thank you,” Phoenix said, taking a seat behind his desk.

“You’re welcome.”

With a sigh, he said, “You know I’ll pay you for the visit, right? Even though I joked I wouldn’t.”

“No. I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it. I’m not taking money from you or residents.”

“Thad…”

“I mean it, Phoenix. If I can’t provide it for free, or get someone else to, I’ll cover it myself.”

“There’s a gathering before the event…” he said, shifting to the next charity event Halo House would be hosting after staring at me for several moments.

I sighed. “Phoenix…we’ve talked about you trying to hook me up with a boy.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re too busy,” he mocked.

Leaning forward, my forearms braced on my knees, I took a deep breath and stared at him through my lashes as I reminded him, “I work sixteen-hour days.”

“You just don’t want to risk⁠—”

I cut him off. “Phoenix, risk isn’t what holds me back. No matter what you might believe.”

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you, Thad, but you must return to the land of the living.”

“I am living, Phoenix.”

He scoffed. “You’re no more alive than the handle on that door behind you. You’re existing. That is all. And that’s no way to spend your life.”

“Hello, pot. Meet kettle.”

“I lived a long, full life with the love of my life…”

“And he wouldn’t want you to be lonely and isolated.”

“You’re a smart cookie, Doc, but now you’re stretching the limits of your knowledge.”

He stood, and I knew I had touched a nerve. I wouldn’t apologize. I probably should, but I wouldn’t. And neither would Phoenix.

A hand fell on my shoulder when he paused next to me. I didn’t bother looking at him. And the mirror on the wall showed he didn’t bother looking at me either. “You deserve so much more than a life of work.”

“I like my work.”

“Yes. I’m aware, but remember, all work and no play makes Thad a very dull sack of sad.”

I swallowed the laugh, and he left me sitting there, my hands clasped between my splayed knees. Phoenix wasn’t wrong, no matter how much I wanted to contest his assessment.

After a few moments, I got up, walked out to my car, and slid behind the wheel. The engine purred as I shifted into gear and pulled away from Halo House. Phoenix’s voice calling me a sack of sad played on repeat in my head.