I nod. “It is. Fans are counting on you.”
“Oh no,” she says in a flat tone. “Will I ever be able to handle the pressure?”
A chuckle bursts out of me. “Onlytime will tell.”
“Yep. Three full weeks, but who’s counting?” She lets out a quick sigh. “All right, I guess I should get started with my interviews.”
“Sure.” I nod. “Where do you want me?”
“Um,” she says, tapping a finger on her lip. “I think I’ll start with thestarplayers first. I’ll see if I have time for you later.”
With that, she turns on her heel, leaving me to catch my jaw that has dropped to the floor.
Who is this girl?
And why do I suddenly want to know everything about her?
5
Harper
I somehow survived my first day as a sports reporter. It was just as awful as I expected, and I haven’t even stepped foot in the actual arena yet. But being in a room full of entitled and overpaid athletes was exactly what I had envisioned for my first day.
My phone rings on the bed, and I lie down to pick up, letting my limbs sprawl dramatically across the mattress. “Hey, Grandma, what’s up?”
“How are you? Still alive, I take it?”
“Haha, very funny. It was pretty terrible, though. I’m not going to lie. But yeah, I’m surviving. Barely.”
“You’ll be fine,” she says curtly—the way she says everything. “You’ve been through worse ordeals in your life. So, how’s the room?”
I sigh, glancing around my standard hotel room. Neutral beige. Polite lamps. A single sad chair. “Boring. I mean, it’s nicely decorated, I guess, but it’s just a room. Small, no bathtub, no view.”
“Wait, I thought you were getting a suite. What happened?”
“The usual. I’m not famous enough to deserve a better room. You know how it is.”
It’s not the first time a celebrity has taken something away from me, after all.
“Yes,” she says softly, and that one gentle note hits me deeper than any stab of sarcasm ever could. “What are you doing today?”
“I have to work on my interviews from yesterday, and then I’ll go to the women’s practice. Press is allowed there—lucky me. How about you? How’s life at Golden Age?”
She scoffs. “Boring and dull. The only thrill is knowing that anyone can drop dead at any moment, but so far no sudden deaths. Unfortunately.”
“Grandma!” I scold, pushing myself upright. Can you guess who I got my legendary sass from? Still, she is even more intense than I am.
“What? It’s true. Isn’t that why you put me in this awful place? So I can wait for death without bothering you?”
I shake my head. “Don’t be like that. First, Golden Age isn’t that bad, and second, you know I didn’t have a choice. It’s better for you. And I know you’re safe there.”
She’s been forgetting stuff more and more often these past few months, and when she forgot to turn off the stove—not once but twice—I knew it was urgent we found a solution. There were no home care aids with open schedules available, so a nursing home was our only option.
“Yeah, unless I die of boredom. There’s nothing to do here except play cards and watch TV.”
“You love cards,” I say with the most encouraging tone I can muster. “That sounds like fun.”
“Nice try,” she says simply, her tone clipped. “Well, I have to go. They’re taking us on a walk like a bunch of geriatric dogs. Beware, the canes and walkers are out!”
