“Where is Father?”
“Still working.”
“How is… everything?” he asked, not wanting to get into detail, although he knew his mother was aware of what he had left unsaid.
His sister’s health and his father’s despair at not being able to work as he used to, before his injury.
“Well,” his mother said slowly as she served them each the hashed meat she had made, “we received some information.”
“What kind of information?” Tommy asked immediately, his heart seizing as he stole a glance at Cindy, but she gave him nothing, her eyes down upon the table.
“We spoke to the physician, and there is some medication that your sister could benefitfrom.”
His shoulders fell in relief. “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”
“It is,” his mother said with a nod, hesitating. “But it is of rather great expense.”
“How great?” he asked, and his mother’s eyes flitted over to his sister.
“We can discuss it later, but it is likely out of our reach,” she said.
“Let me know,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
His mind flitted to that piece of paper still sitting on the table in his apartment. The one that he had meant to burn, but, for some reason, he held onto. Perhaps this was why.
He pushed it out of his mind for now, intent on enjoying the meal and the company.
But each glance at his sister told him that he had to find a way to get what she needed.
Even if it might mean compromising his soul.
Of all the people Tommy longed to talk to, he couldn’t go to the one who had always provided him advice in the past.
For Colin’s moral compass was far too great, and Tommy knew before even asking just what he would say.
So, he decided to go to the next best person — one who wouldn’t judge, but should hopefully understand, for Tommy knew his own activities were sometimes morally gray.
He and Jonny Tate hadn’t known one another until they both began playing for Manchester Central, but they had grown closer in the last bit of time, especially once Colin had married and was less likely to frequent the tavern or any other late-night haunts without Lily. Since they’d had their daughter, Tommy barely saw him besides football.
“Jonny, could you spare a minute?” he asked, inclining hishead toward a booth in the back of The King’s Head, where Rhys usually sat when he needed to conduct a private conversation.
“‘Course,” Jonny said, following him back, his pint in hand.
He was a rather burly man who moved quickly despite his size and was one of the best defenders Tommy had ever seen play football.
“I have a dilemma,” Tommy began, wrapping his hands around his own pint.
“A feminine dilemma?” Jonny said, leaning forward in interest.
“No, I have that well in hand,” he said, waving away Jonny’s suggestion. “Call this amoraldilemma.”
“Let’s have it, then.”
“My sister is ill with consumption. There’s a medication that the docs say can help her, but it’s costly. More than I could ever make with my apprentice’s salary.”
There was also the small amount he was paid to play football, but that was neither legal nor known to anyone except Colin.
“Sounds like there isn’t much you can do,” Jonny said, although he eyed him as though knowing there was a catch.
