Page 163 of Offside Rules

Saturday.

She gets the shop today.

For weeks, I’ve listened to her talk about the deposit and the lease and whether the property manager would wait long enough for the gala payment to clear.

Today, she gets to stop looking at pictures and unlock the fucking door.

I open Juliet’s messages. There are photographs of the dessert table, the room, Baylor standing beside the display with Ellie.

She looks beautiful.

She also looks like she hasn’t slept.

I go back to our conversation and type with my good hand.

Me: Just turned my phone on. I’m out of surgery and home with Dad. I have a follow-up appointment today, and you have a shop to collect. We’ll talk tomorrow. Juliet sent pictures of the dessert table. You did a great job, Cupcake.

I read it before sending.

It isn’t enough.

It’s what I can manage before I have to sit across from a surgeon and ask whether I still have a career.

I send it, then leave the phone faceup beside my coffee.

Pops puts a plate in front of me after I make it to the kitchen.

Eggs. Toast already cut in half.

He takes the chair across from me, pushing his coffee aside.

I eat a few bites while he looks at the paperwork from the hospital. There’s a list of questions written in his handwriting on the back.

He used to do the same thing when I was a kid. Teachers, coaches, doctors. Everybody got the list.

Apparently, I haven’t aged out of it.

"So," he says, putting the papers down. "The girl."

I look at my plate.

"Baylor."

"I know her name."

"There’s something I didn’t tell you."

"That seems to be going around."

I lift my eyes and he waits. "She’s Beau Fairbanks’s little sister."

Pops leans back. "Oh, shit…"

"Yeah."

He looks toward my shoulder, then back at me.

"He found out?"