She laughed and hung up, then tossed the phone on the couch. It slid between the cushions, but thankfully she noticed and moved it. That would be a bitch to find when she wanted to talk to Warren later.
Once the fridge was open, she realized she didn’t want to cook anything and snagged a container of yogurt and then a banana. She could eat them on the couch while she watched TV.
When the kickoff came, Lucky was trying to stick his nose in her empty container and lick it clean. It probably wouldn’t hurt him and give him some dairy. Didn’t cats like milk? Kind of the same thing in her eyes.
The minute her cat knocked the empty container on the floor and was batting it around, she picked it up and brought it to the kitchen.
She wasn’t even gone a minute and Warren was coming on the field.
What had she missed? The Jets received first.
She rewound it quickly, saw the fumble and shrugged her shoulders, got on the edge of the couch, her hands gripping the cushions as Warren got the snap, fell back, couldn’t find a receiver open and ran. He had nowhere to go and ended up running out of bounds.
It went on like this for an hour.
Each team had a field goal.
Warren couldn’t connect with half his throws. Some he missed, others were dropped.
He almost fumbled once too.
It wasn’t like him to play like this.
Everyone had a bad day, but she’d never seen this before.
With a minute left in the first half, they were in the red zone, Warren faked the pass, saw an opening, and ran.
A defender caught him and was still on his feet, pushing closer and closer until he crossed the plane. She was just ready to jump up with her hands in the air when another defender came in, his shoulder down, and connected with Warren’s helmet.
The whistle blew, indicating a touchdown, but when the group that was holding Warren up moved away, he just dropped on the field like a rag doll.
She rushed to get in front of the TV and see what was going on, but everyone was crowding around him, players waving medical over and blocking the view.
“It appears as if Warren Showers is down on the field. We are going to take a break and be back soon with an update.”
Her hand was shaking. He was unconscious. She saw it and cutting to a break that quickly meant it wasn’t good. She grabbed her phone. “Egan,” she said.
“Meet me at the airstrip in thirty minutes,” Egan said. “I’ll get you to New Jersey.”
36
FOOTBALL CAN WAIT
“That’s it, Warren. Open your eyes, don’t move though.”
He was fighting through a sea of pain and nausea while he tried to figure out where the fuck he was.
His eyes opened, and he saw the team doctors in front of him but almost moving in and out forcing him to shut them again for fear of losing the food he’d eaten today.
“Do you know where you are?” he was asked. He couldn’t even recognize voices.
“The field,” he said.
“What field?”
“Metlife,” he said. “Maybe.”
“Does anything hurt on you?”
