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Silence on the other end of the phone.
Damn. Not a good sign.
I hear him breathing, so I give him the time he needs.
It takes a minute or two, but he finally clears his throat. “Worse than I thought, actually.”
Oh no. I sag in my seat, close my eyes and lift a hand to cover my face. What I have to tell him will only make everything worse.
“Seems I aggravated the original injury, of course, but I also did some additional damage to my knee. I'm going to need surgery which will take me out for the rest of the season.”
I feel a sharp pang of sadness. This is his passion, his livelihood, and it's being ripped away from him. “I'm so sorry to hear that, Drew. Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.
He sighs. “There's not much anyone can do at this point. I just need to accept it and move on.”
“How are you feeling today?”
“Sore. Bruised. Pissed.”
Gathering my courage, I spit out what I have to say. “I hate to add to your problems, but I need to talk to you about something else.”
I can almost see the quizzical look on his face.
“Can you meet me? Are you feeling up to it?”
“Sure, where are you?”
“I'm at the Coffee House downtown. Can you come?”
“Absolutely. Honestly, I need to get out of my apartment. The fresh air will do me good. Give me about forty minutes?”
While I'm waiting for Drew, I sip another coffee, nibble on a muffin, and figure out how to deal with Mr. Laroche.I can't shake the feeling that something about the situation feels wrong. He didn't want to leave his contact info? Why not? Why so secretive? I've never wanted to be an investigative reporter, but I know I need to proceed with caution. I’m determined to discover the truth behind Drew's father's motives.
When Drew arrives, I stand to greet him, ready to wrap his big body in my arms and give him whatever strength I can. Today, he's leaning heavily on the crutches. My heart aches for him. I never planned on feeling so deeply for somebody else. I didn't want to be tied down to anybody. But I can't imagine going a day without seeing this man. I can't imagine spending too many nights away from him either.
He wraps his arms around me and hugs me just as tight.
“Hey. It's going to be okay,” I tell him, my words soft in his ear. “Any idea in when you'll have the surgery?”
He shakes his head. “Noah will make the arrangements and let me know. The sooner the better, though. I'd like to try to get in a least a couple of practice games before the season is over.”
“I'm sorry, Drew. I know how much football means to you.” I'd be lost without my camera. “For now, let's get your mind focused on something else.” Not the best topic, but at least he won't be worrying about this leg.
I inhale deeply, mentally preparing myself because I have no idea how he’ll react. “When I got home last night, I found an envelope in my mail slot.”
Drew grins, it doesn't quite reach his eyes, but at least there's a smile lurking on his face. For a moment, anyway. “Isn't that a good spot for them?”
“It was from your father.”
His eyes narrow in suspicion, and his back straightens, the reflexive tension building in his body immediately. “Excuse me? Why would my father contact you? How does he evenknowyou?”
I raise my hand to calm him down.
Drew's expression is unreadable as he stares at me. “What was it?” he finally asks.
“I don’t know how he got my name. But the envelope contained a note asking me to meet him here.”
He swivels around in his seat so fast I fear he’ll fall off, the look on his face is severe, even a tad scary as he scans the inside of the café.
