Cuts and Bruises

Chapter Seventeen

"Alright then," She nods once more. "I'll be going, then. Visiting hours end at 7, so when you get home heat something up for dinner. My shift won't let out until midnight."

"Okay mom," I say kind of quickly, embarrassed that Vincent was witnessing this side of my life. It felt too personal. "I'll see you later."

She gives me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before saying farewell to Vincent, but doesn't leave without casting one last look at Danny lying on the hospital bed, a view she was probably sick of seeing. When she leaves, I take her old spot on the big chair in the corner, and Vincent pulls up a sitting chair beside mine.

We sit in silence for a few moments. The air was thick of things that I wanted to say, and I was the most struck by the words sorry you had to see that. It felt almost natural, like a reflex to apologize to outsiders for seeing a glimpse inside of our world. But even so, the reflex felt wrong this time, and I couldn't bring myself to say the words out loud.

"Lily?"

The little voice croaked from the bed, and my head snapped up to see Danny squinting his eyes at me, a little ghost of a smile on his lips. I jump up all at once and rush to the bed in two long strides, sitting on the edge and giving him a vibrant smile back.

"Hey kid," I greet him with a grin. "Glad to see you finally woke up. I thought you would sleep all day."

"You're here," Danny smiles brightly, which is interrupted by a cough, and then a subsequent closed-mouth smile at the prospect of my arrival. His curious gaze travels to Vincent and he scrunches his eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"I'm Vincent," The boy beside me introduces himself with a goofy grin and an exaggerated wave. "I'm Lily's friend."

"Vince," Danny repeats, shortening his name. "How do you know Lily?"

Vincent motions to his leg, which was wrapped under his pants, and then shoves his thumb in my direction. "She's helping me get better so I can keep playing football."

Once the magic word was said, it was hard not to see the light in Danny's eyes. He associated football with our father-- we all did, my mom included-- even if Danny didn't get the opportunity that I did to actually go to games and cheer on Sunday nights with him. The sheer stories that root from memories my mother and I constantly share of watching a game with our father and the various worn jerseys in my mom's closet were proof enough that our father and football were synonymous.

"You play football?" Danny asks in excitement as he struggles to sit up in his bed.

Actually playing the sport was always a dream for Danny, who had never had enough consecutive good years to build his physical strength and allow him to play. However, not being able to play didn't bar him from appreciating the sport almost as much as our father had.

"He's really good," I tell Danny to fuel his excitement. "Maybe you can watch him play sometime, when you and mom visit."

Danny's eyes dart from me to Vincent. "What position do you play, Vince?"

Vincent's eyes light up almost as much as Danny's as he grins proudly and announces, "Quarterback."

I continued to stand there as Danny and Vincent gushed over football to the point where you wouldn't realize I was even in the room. My heart warmed considerably watching them interact, and I realized after twenty minutes that I had taken the role of smiling from the sidelines and observing them rather than actively participating.

Eventually, Danny summoned me over, and we talked about school and being home for awhile, until the nurse knocked on the door and gave us a fifteen minute warning for the end of visiting hours. When she left, my stomach let out a loud and embarrassing growl within an empty room, and both boys looked at me with similar smirks.