Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Aiden’s mouth drops open when he sees us. “Holy shit—”
“Hey, hey… language,” Boone warns.
“Holy crap,” Aiden amends and slowly swings his legs out of the bed. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt and those hospital socks with grips on the bottom. He maneuvers the IV tube out of the way like he’s had lots of experience and grabs hold of the pole from where the medicine hangs, moving it across the room toward us with shuffling steps.
Drake moves first, holding out his fist, and the kid bumps it with his own. Then he turns to me and I offer the same.
“Drake McGinn and Van Turner.” The kid shakes his head in awe. “I can’t believe you’re here… in my room.”
Boone gives Aiden a faux glare. “You never get that excited when I come to visit.”
Aiden shoots him a grin. “I see you a lot.”
“The specialness has worn off, hasn’t it?” Boone teases.
My stomach churns, thinking of the way I’ve told Simone she’s no longer shiny to me. She knows it’s a lie, right? Formulated specifically to make her mad enough to leave me but never in a million years could that woman ever be anything less than pure brilliance.
“We brought some gifts,” Drake says, and he motions one of the staffers into the room and the photographer enters as well. “Can we get some pictures with you? Probably make the front page of the sports section.”
“Hell yeah,” Aiden exclaims, then ducks his head when Boone gives him a disapproving look. “I mean, heck yeah.”
I’m intrigued by Boone and the way this kid knows him so well. I wonder if he’s this close to all the kids he visits.
We spend about five minutes talking to Aiden. He’s given a Highsmith jersey after he admits Coen is his favorite player, but he asks the three of us to sign it. Drake also gives him a goalie stick with his signature on it.
We pose for photos, including some with Aiden’s phone. “My dad’s going to die that he missed this,” he quips, scrolling through the photos after his phone is handed back to him.
“Listen… got a lot more kids to see,” Boone says as he motions for Aiden to get back in bed. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
Aiden radiates an energy that wasn’t there when we first walked in. “Really?”
“Really,” Boone says and then hugs the boy. “Gotta give you extra good luck before your transplant, right?”
Transplant? Jesus… the things these kids go through.
We move right to the next room and Boone goes in first. “Amelia… my little princess,” he calls out.
Christ… does he know all the kids in this ward? It’s pretty fucking amazing, to be honest.
Drake and I follow him into the room and see a little girl no more than six or seven years old. She’s completely bald like Aiden, rail thin and looks like she would blow over in a strong wind. As we enter, she’s playing Candy Land with a man I’m guessing is her father.
Amelia looks really sick and I can see the stress lines on her father’s face. I can’t even imagine having a child with cancer or whatever she has. I don’t know what any of these kids have, but they’re obviously very ill.
The little girl squeals when she sees Boone and I note her dad has a genuine smile seeing his daughter light up like that. I suppose it’s the small moments you cherish most.
I glance at Drake and we exchange a look. He’s a dad and I can see it on his face… he’d go crazy if this happened to one of his boys.
We spend almost four hours at the hospital, visiting with kids and handing out Titans gear. We talk with parents, giving them a little respite from hovering over their ill children, and we thank doctors and nurses for their fine work. It’s fulfilling and draining at the same time.
After we leave the hospital, we head to a bar for a few beers to decompress.
At a high top with a shared bowl of peanuts among us, I ask, “How often do you visit the hospital?”
He shrugs. “Once a week, sometimes more.”
Drake shakes his head. “I don’t know how you do it, man. I’m drained after seeing those sick kids for just a few hours.”
“But don’t you feel good in your soul?” Boone asks with a grin.
“I do,” Drake admits.
I do too. I’ve felt like such a shit for all the stuff I’ve done to Simone, this was a bit of a balm to make kids smile all day.
“Kids are resilient as hell,” Boone says. “We have a lot to learn from them.”
“That’s God’s honest truth,” Drake says. “My ex-wife has put my kids through hell and I still marvel at the way they’re able to deal with it. Far better than I did.”