Page 39 of Forever After Fall

“We generally only allow immediate family back here for player privacy.” The trainer’s eyes dart to Anson’s for permission.

“She’s the closest thing he’s got to a mother.” Anson’s tone brooks no argument, and I feel my chest tighten at the way he describes me. It’s technically true. I fill some part of the shoes Fannie left behind. Certainly not all of them. But I never knew Anson thought of me that way, and I’m not sure if I deserve it.

“All right.” The trainer nods. He launches into an explanation of the tests they’re running, and Anson asks questions about the potential outcomes for Ford. Anything from us needing to get him to an ER immediately in case of a potential brain bleed, which they don’t think is likely, to just having to keep an eye on him for any additional symptoms. Seeing as he failed the initial exam, they think it’s likely he has at least a mild concussion.

“How long will he be out for?” Anson asks.

“Depends on how he progresses. We’ll keep evaluating as time goes on to assess how he’s progressing through recovery. It varies depending on the severity of the concussion and how fast the player’s body can heal. Ballpark, a few days to a few weeks.”

By the time we leave, Ford’s been sent home with instructions to avoid screens, a thing that will be a massive struggle for him, given how much he loves texting and video games, and to take it easy at home. No major exercise for a week or until he’s cleared for more activity. They recommended he see his regular doctor and gave Anson the name of a concussion specialist in Colorado Springs in the event he needs it.

Ford and Anson get into Anson’s truck, and I agree to meet them back at their house as soon as I gather up my things. We drove separately to the game as we always do. I’m still too cautious about not starting local gossip to risk more, but right now, I hate that I’m not with them. I want to be there when Ford gets home and be able to get him anything he needs.

“How is he?” Marlowe asks as she meets me in the parking lot to give me my things.

“He’s all right, but it sounds like he has a mild concussion. I’m going to head over there to check on them. I just want to be sure he has anything he needs. Get him set for bed. I want to see for myself that he’s really okay. You know?” I start to tear up, surprising even myself when I do it.

“Hey! Hey. Hey,” Marlowe murmurs softly as she leans in to hug me. “It’s gonna be okay. Ford’s gonna be all right. You know kids. They’re made of rubber. He’ll bounce right back and be back to normal in no time.”

“I know. It was just seeing him out there on that field. And then the trainer thought I was his mother, and I hate that when he goes through this stuff, he doesn’t have her. He should have her, you know?”

“I know.” Marlowe nods. “But he’s got you, and you love him so much, Bristol. He knows that.”

“I hope so.” I sniffle and try to recompose myself. “All right. I should get over there before I turn into a giant blubbering mess.

“You okay to drive? I could take you over to Anson’s.”

“No, I’m fine.”

It’s a lie. Not that I realize it. But on the way to Anson’s, I can’t shake the sadness I feel for Ford or stop thinking about all the ways I’m inadequate to be a mother figure to him. I also can’t help but think of Fannie and what she would say if she were here now. Watching me try to fill her shoes, taking care of Ford and her spot in Anson’s bed. Guilt washes over me.

It’s still there after we get Ford tucked in for the night, reminding him at least three times that he can call me if he needs anything. I want to stay over, but I can feel the tension rolling off Anson, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s having the same thoughts—the same guilt—that I am.

I finish making some snacks for Ford and getting breakfast ready for both of them for the morning, so they have one less thing to worry about. I spot Anson standing in the back sunroom staring out over the dark yard. I grab a couple of beers and wander out after him.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“More or less.” Anson takes the beer I offer, swigs it, and thanks me before he leans against the doorframe. “Just thinking about everything.”

“Me too.” I nod, leaning back against the wall and wondering how we got here. “I’m wondering if maybe we should slow things down.” I want to be the first one to suggest it so he doesn’t have to. After everything with Ford, I don’t want him to feel like he has to take on this too.

Anson doesn’t answer me. He’s silent as a still night in the forest. Unmoving. At least for a long minute that feels like an eternity.

“Why?”

“Tonight just reminded me of what things should have been like. You, Fannie, Ford. I think about what she would say. How Ford might feel if he knew we were anything other than friends.”

“What is it you think Fannie would say?”

“Nothing good. I loved my sister, but she wasn’t easy. Our relationship wasn’t always easy, you know?”

“I know you two fought quite a bit.”

“I hated living in her shadow. I wanted to be more and less like her at the same time. I thought maybe if I were more like her, my mom would like me a little better. The two of them are so much alike. She hated it when I tried to be like her growing up. But when I tried to be my own person our mother always asked why I couldn’t be more like her.” I take a deep breath and another draw off my beer before I continue. I can feel Anson’s eyes on me, studying every move I make. “If she knew I was running a secret sex toy shop and fucking her husband… I imagine she’d have a lot of words for me. None of them good.”

“I’m not her husband anymore.” Anson’s tone is clipped.

“I know that, but if she hadn’t died, you would be. We’re only in this position because she’s gone, and I feel like I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me.”