Page 42 of Ruff and Tumble

Of the two of them, Cole ended up being correct. His dad didn’t go so far as to physically assault the nurse, but he grumbled and complained and otherwise made it difficult for the man to do his job. It would have been embarrassing if Cole and Regina hadn’t already had a lifetime in which to accustom themselves to it. Julian Bennett wasn’t a man who took the act of lying down, well, lying down.

“What a lovely young man,” their mom said as soon as the nurse left them with promises that yet another specialist would be by to see them in a few hours. She smoothed the blankets over her husband’s legs. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Hungry,” came the prompt reply. “What does a man have to do to get a cheeseburger around here?”

Cole and Regina shared a look of exasperation. They’d arrived at the hospital prepared to find their father unconscious, in surgery, or—as their deepest fears wanted them to believe—dead. Their relief at finding him already in bed and recovering from what the doctors called “a minor attack” had been quickly replaced by…this. He looked pale and frail and much older than they’d ever seen him.

He was also seriously starting to piss them off.

“You can’t have cheese,” Regina said, her voice sharp. “Or burgers. Or mayonnaise or the spicy jalapeños you like on top. And don’t even get us started on the beer you’d be sure to demand to wash it all down.”

“That’s right,” Cole said, both verbally and physically backing his sister up. From the way their dad was glowering up at them, it looked as though his sister might be the one in danger of that kick to the head. “From now on, it’s nothing but kale as far as the eye can see.”

“Kale?” his dad demanded. “What the hell am I supposed to do with kale?”

Cole laughed. He imagined his dad would take the same approach he did with the stuff, which revolved mostly around throwing it into the nearest garbage. Unless, of course, it was being served by a woman who’d taken the time to hunt down his nutritional guidelines and painstakingly prepared a meal she knew would fit in with them.

Not even Julian Bennett at his most belligerent could refuse it after that. His son certainly couldn’t.

He could feel Regina looking at him, the same amusement in her expression that had been there at Hailey’s house, but he ignored her. He didn’t have to explain himself. It was only kale.

“We should probably figure out who’s going to stay with Dad tonight,” Cole said with a meaningful glance at his sister. Their mother would most likely demand the first shift, but she looked exhausted, as well she might. Getting their father into an ambulance in this mood couldn’t have been an easy task. “You’ll have to work your magic tomorrow and get me out of this week’s game, Reg, but—”

“The devil she will!”

“Cole, love, you don’t mean that.”

“I’m not going to do any such thing.”

Of the three responses, Regina’s was the most alarming—and not just because she was Cole’s manager and therefore the one in a position to actuallydosomething. She spoke with the calm, damnable authority of an older sister who believed herself wise, infallible, and always, always right.

“Mom and I will work something out between us,” Regina said, still in that same tone. “You’re going home and going straight to bed. You have to be up and at practice at six.”

“Are you kidding me?” Cole asked. He could hardly believe he was being forced to say the words out loud. “I’m not going to play football while Dad’s lying in a hospital bed.”

“It wasn’t even a real heart attack,” his dad said as he struggled into a sitting position. He made it only halfway before Regina and their mom shoved him back down again. He accepted this with a meekness that said more about his current condition than all the charts and blipping monitors could. “You heard the doctor. It was a partial blockage, that’s all. I’ll be back on my feet in a week.”

“The doctor said you can get discharged from the hospital in a week, barring any additional complications,” he countered. “That’s not the same thing.”

“I’m fine.”

“You could have died.”

“I’mfine.”

He wasn’t fine. Not by a long shot, and not—if the doctor was to be believed—unless he drastically changed his way of life. Apparently, the chances of a repeat and more catastrophic attack were high in this sort of situation.

Cole knew better than to push the issue, however. For as long as he could remember, he’d been taught that Bennett men didn’t show weakness or acknowledge pain. It was a large part of the reason his mom kept that scrapbook of his high school injuries: not for sympathy or for posterity but as proof.

Proof that a Bennett didn’t let things like physical pain get in the way of success. Proof that results were more important than all the things that had to be sacrificed to get there. What was a personal life when football was on the line? What were feelings when there were reps to get in?

“You guys can’t be serious,” he said, his gaze skimming from face to face, his entire family staring at him with the same stony resolve. “You’re kicking me out?”

His mom rose and put a hand on his arm. The exhaustion that had lined her face was still there, but it was matched by a determination he knew better than to fight. “There’s not much for you to do here, and you know it. The doctors have everything under control, and your father will rest better if he knows you’re focused on the game against Texas.”

“You know their spread defense always throws you off,” his dad said.

Cole made one last effort. He turned to his sister, who should have been the one person in the room most on his side. “Reggie, you don’t mean it.”