Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“My friend was in a really bad accident and isn’t expected to make it through the night.” My heart seizes as I say those words. I want to take them back and tell Allen that she is going to make it, but it’s too late. This entire time I’ve been telling myself that Peyton will pull through, refusing to believe what the doctor has said or what everyone around me believes.
“Let me know what I can do for you.” He doesn’t have a clue who Peyton is, but cares anyway. Not because it’s his job, but because that’s the type of man he is. I’ve heard the horror stories about my dad’s manager, Sam, so I’m thankful Allen is a stand-up guy.
I nod even though he can’t see me and kick a pile of snow away from me. “There is one thing if you don’t mind.”
“Anything.”
“Kyle Zimmerman was also in an accident this evening and is rumored to be at the same hospital. I’d like to pay him a visit.” I tell him which hospital I’m at, but nothing more. Allen doesn’t need to know why I have to go see Kyle. Something tells me that he’ll find out soon enough. Undoubtedly there will be a reporter that will put two and two together after Harrison holds a press conference tomorrow and Peyton’s love affair with Kyle will be all over the news.
“Sure, sure. I’ll find out what room and text you.”
“Thanks.” We hang up, and I decide to sit on a bench near the entrance. The whooshing of the sliding doors is somewhat calming. It oddly reminds me of the machines that are helping keep Peyton alive.
An elderly man, who has seen better days, sits down next to me. I’m trying not to stare, but I can’t help it. It’s cold here and this gentleman is wearing tattered clothing and a light jacket.
“Hey Mister, I know you,” he says. My head snaps toward him and I smile, recalling those exact same words that I said to my dad before I knew who he was.
I extend by hand and shake his rather frail one. “Noah Westbury.”
“Leonard Ramsey. My friends call me Leo.”
“Well, I hope to some day call you Leo, Mr. Ramsey.” He smiles an almost toothless grin.
“What brings you to Chicago?”
“My friend is here,” I say, motioning with my head toward the hospital.
“Oh, and here I was hoping you were coming to play for a real team.” He laughs and as much as I don’t want to, I do as well.
“I like Portland. We’re young. We’ll be good soon.”
“If you say so.” Again, he’s laughing at his own joke.
I don’t know how long Leonard and I sit there talking about football. He has a plethora of knowledge and all I can think is that Peyton would love to be out here with us. When Allen finally texts, I’m torn on what to do. The urge to go see Kyle is stronger than ever, but hanging with Leonard is nice. It’s peaceful and keeps my mind off what’s going on one floor above me.
“How long are you in town for?” he asks, tearing my gaze away from my phone.
“Few days. I have to go back.”
“Practice… it’s just practice.” He smiles, and this time I find myself laughing.
“Allen Iverson. I remember that press conference.” Allen Iverson could’ve been one of the greatest in the NBA, but his attitude got him into trouble a lot. “You know Leonard, you’ve really turned the last hour or so around for me. Thank you.”
He waves me off as if it’s no big deal. I’d like to do something for him and normally, the guys and I walk up and down the streets of Portland with bags of food feeding the homeless, but with the cafeteria closed there isn’t much I can do. I take my wallet out of my back pocket and open it. There’s a couple hundred in there, which is now his.
“I have to run, but thank you, Mr. Ramsey,” I say as I shake his hand. I don’t know if he can feel the cash being pressed into his palm or not, either way, it’s his.
“Please call me Leo.”
I smile and nod. “Leo. Thank you!”
He calls after me once he realizes what I’ve done, but I don’t stop. He doesn’t need to thank me for anything because what he’s done for me in the little time we’ve spent together, is worth more than anything.
I take the elevator to Kyle’s floor. When I pass the nurse’s station, she hollers out that visiting hours are over. I ignore her. What I have to say won’t take long. I don’t bother knocking when I enter his room. He’s watching television, Sports Center to be exact, and his leg is suspended in the air.
“Westbury?” Of course he looks surprised to see me. He reaches forward to shake my hand, but I don’t budge. His surprised expression quickly morphs into something upsetting. “They’re already replacing me?” Kyle slams his head back onto his pillow and sighs. “I figured they’d at least wait until the morning. You’re here to take my job, huh?”