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“Actually, I’m useless with videos. I couldn’t do this without Phoenix,” Millie said shyly, and her eyes lifted to Sawyer, “And it was your sister’s idea. So I can’t take credit for that either.”
“Sierra?” Sawyer said in disbelief, mirroring my own thoughts.
“Yeah, she originally suggested I should do a Captain’s Comment, but I kind of like the more casual approach. And that’s why you’re the first guest.”
“What! Because of my sister?” Sawyer feigned heavy disappointment. “And here I was thinking it was because you wanted to film the best looking.”
“If I wanted the best looking, I would have asked Tennessee,” Millie said with a coy, but cheeky grin.
Sawyer shook his head as we all laughed, even Dad. “Okay, okay, I get it,” Sawyer said in defeat. “My little sister put you up for it.”
“That’s exactly it,” Millie said, brimming with self-confidence. To think that only a short while ago she’d been forced into sports reporting for her journalism class. Back then she didn’t know a thing about football. But Millie was smart and a quick learner and she was now conducting interviews, writing reports and spouting statistics like a seasoned pro. And she was dating Tennessee Jackson, our touchdown scoring machine, the wide receiver who made me look good. “So, Cullen, if you can organize a couple of boys for tomorrow, that’d be great. And when Phoenix and I edit this, I’ll send you a copy, Coach.”
“Thank you Millie and Phoenix, great job,” Dad said, and turning to me, he said, “See you at home, son.”
I nodded, waiting until he’d gone through the door before I could process what had happened. Two days in a row I’d managed to escape my extra training and tomorrow might be the same.
And it seemed it was all due to Sierra Huntington.
But as I helped Millie and Phoenix pack up, it occurred to me that I wasn’t totally off the hook. Yeah, Dad had another option, likely he’d have me up before sunrise.
––––––––
Iarrived home to ahouse that was shrouded in darkness, causing me to drive up to the garage at a snail’s pace until the glare of the security lights kicked in. I had a random thought that I’d go inside to find a serial killer had murdered my family. Blood, machetes, chainsaws, my imagination ran away with me. As I waited for the garage door to rise, my heart pounded violently to see Dad’s truck was not in its usual position, though he’d left fifteen minutes before me.
Helping Phoenix to pack up the camera, tripod and screen had taken time. Sawyer and I had offered to carry it to his car and that had been a slow journey. Phoenix had progressed to walking with crutches now, but my heart clenched with every step he took, like he might fall at any moment. Sawyer and I gave him a wide berth, allowing him plenty of space.
It was hard to know what to say around Phoenix, his hopes and dreams of tennis success dashed by his car accident earlier in the year. You could only commiserate for so long, and I guessed he was sick of hearing it. Though it was good to see he was moving on and driving himself to school now.
“Appreciate you helping out,” I said as I loaded the stuff into the trunk of his car, a brand new blue metallic Audi Sportback. “You just get this?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Practically drives itself.”
“Nice.”
“Thanks.”
Unbeknown to him, or to anyone, Phoenix crossed my mind a lot. Like in those dark times when Dad was shouting at me and I didn’t think I could do another push up or pull up or squat or lap. Yeah, sometimes I pictured Phoenix learning to do those things all over again and tried to be grateful that I could. I was never grateful for the pain, but figured it was nowhere near what Phoenix had been through.
I unloaded my bags, and took a cautious step inside the house, calling, “Mom? Dad?”
The buzz of my phone in my pocket caused me to jump.
“Dad. Where are you?” There was no sense in trying to stay calm when I wasn’t.
“Are you at home?”
“Yeah, just got here. What’s going on?”
“Now, don’t panic,” Dad said, “but your mother and I are at the hospital. Granddad collapsed earlier.”
“What! Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll come up.” I’d dropped my bags and was heading back to the garage already.
“No, no, no,” Dad placated. “Cullen, just listen. I’ll be home soon. There’s nothing you can do here. Just stay put.”
“What’s wrong with him? What happened?”
“He’s having tests. It might have been a heart attack, but we’re waiting for results.”
