Dante pressed his lips together and looked away. There was nothing wrong with his head.
“It’s my leg that’s broken. He’s worried about the wrong end.” He forced a smile and tried to put a little glint in his eye. One he definitely didn’t feel any more than surface deep.
“Can’t disagree with you. You’ve got the best attitude of anyone I’ve ever seen lying in this stinkin’ place for so long.”
“It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“Long enough. Anyway, you know when The Big Dude gets an idea in his head, it’s best to just go with it. He wants you to answer that. Thinks it’ll be good for you.”
Dante shifted and tried not to grimace at the pain that seized his leg and ran up his side. “Does he realize it’s a woman?”
“Pretty sure he does. And a woman who isn’t involved in sports. At all. I’m pretty sure when The Big Dude talked to the fella in charge of that, those were his specific requests.”
“Those are exactly the things I don’t want.”
It was like Coach was doing it just to be a jerk.
Although Dante knew better.
Coach Samuels was just as much of a father to him as anyone had ever been. More maybe. Not that he wouldn’t hesitate to trade him or cut him if that turned out to be best for the team, but he was the kind of coach that Dante could stay in touch with for the rest of his life and would know the man would care about him. He was just that kind of guy.
Coach Jacobs stayed for a little longer while they chatted and discussed plays and personnel moves and things that would affect their year next year and their chances of making it to the championship game.
By the time Coach Jacobs left, Dante was tired but not sleepy, and the paper in his hand was soft and crinkled from his hand gripping it.
The Big Dude wouldn’t ask him to do anything that wasn’t in his very best interest. Not to mention, even in the off-season, one didn’t say no to the head coach.
He lifted his hand, and even though he’d already read the letter twice, he read it once more.
Dear Pen Pal,
I suppose some people would sit and stare at a blank page and wonder what in the world they’d say to a stranger.
It probably tells you everything that you ever need to know about me that I had to sort through all of the things I wanted to say and pick out the things I thought would be the most important.
I could fill this page up, and a whole notebook too, just chatting.
Somehow, I think that would bore you more than it would inspire you, so I tried to think of something that I could say to a man who is in the hospital that would be even a little bit interesting. It was a little hard since I know nothing else about you.
Of course, the top thing that comes to mind is that I’m a nurse.
I’m laughing right now, because that either made you happy, or it made you decide not to write me back.
People don’t seem to have neutral opinions about nurses.
Funny, because it’s all about our experience and not really about individual nurses. In other words, we don’t hate a nurse because she’s not nice, we hate a nurse because we had a nurse who wasn’t nice. Make sense?
Or we hate nurses because we hate being in the hospital. That’s possible too.
If it makes you feel any better, I’m also currently in the hospital right now.
Unfortunately, I’m in the hospital because I choose to be, while I understand you don’t have a choice.
Regardless, you are the fifth person that I am attempting to become pen pals with.
All four of my other pen pals puttered out to the point where I don’t think they’re writing me anymore.
I think it might have something to do with me being overwhelming and those myriads of notebooks that I could fill up just chatting about nothing and being completely entertained.
I’m starting to realize, though, it doesn’t entertain anyone else.
The one other thing that I can tell you is that I live in Arkansas. I can’t give you my town, and the address you write back to is a PO box in a different town. That mail is forwarded to me.
I know it’s almost Valentine’s Day, but I love Christmas, and the town I live in is a great place to live if you love Christmas.
What do you love?
Sincerely,
The Healing Pen
Chapter 3
Hey, Healing Pen,
Thank you for not writing a notebook full of random stuff. You’re right. I wouldn’t have read it.
You’re also right about nurses. I guess I belong in the second category, which was bad experiences.
Not that any of my nurses are not kind, they just...aren’t always professional, if you know what I mean.
I’ll admit right up front that I’m only writing because someone I trust signed me up, and I feel like I have to.
I have two loves. The one I’m not gonna talk about. The other is computers.
Best regards,
Computer Nerd
JOURNEE HELD THE SLIP of paper in her hand. He hadn’t needed to waste a whole piece of paper on the few lines he’d written.
She felt like this was going to end up being a dead end. Obviously, the guy wasn’t the slightest bit interested in writing to her.
At least his handwriting was neat, each letter perfectly formed. Not the kind of handwriting she would have guessed for a man.
She looked around the quiet house that she shared with her parents and siblings, Shawn and Blakely. The two children, Darcy and Frank, that Penny and Race were currently fostering lived with them as well. However, there’d been a Valentine’s Day party at Mistletoe’s community center, and Penny and Race had taken Darcy and Frank there.
She supposed she never thought she’d make it to twenty-eight and be spending Valentine’s Day alone.
She also thought it was probably a girl thing. But of all the days of the year where she thought about what could have been, Valentine’s Day was the day.
Knowing if she didn’t distract herself she’d soon be depressed and looking for chocolate, she set the letter down and reached for her pen. Obviously, the man didn’t want to write to her but was being forced to. Still, she wasn’t going to let what he did dictate what she did.
If he wanted to answer her with one-word sentences, that was up to him. But as long as he wrote to her, she’d write back, and she’d do her best to be who she was. Because she never really saw any reason to be anything different.
Dear Computer Nerd,
I guess that I could go on a personal crusade to change your mind about nurses, but it sounds like maybe that’s what caused the problem to begin with. Or something like that.
I’m a little confused when you say you love computers. Is it that you love the way they look? Or you love to use computers? Or you love working on computers? That was really open for interpretation, and since it’s the one thing you told me, I’d really like to be clear about it. If it’s not too much trouble.
I actually don’t own a computer. I know that’s weird, because everybody has one, although I do have a smartphone. I don’t really like it, though.
I like doing what I’m doing right now, which is putting pen on paper, just saying what I think.
Next week is Valentine’s Day, and everyone around me says I’m a bit of a romantic. Actually, that’s not true.