Page 190 of Falling Offsides

COURTNEY

There’sa knock on the door before it opens and Auguste peers inside. He smiles right as a deep familiar voice asks, “Everything okay?”

Dad.

I push to my feet, fixing my jeans and t-shirt as Auguste walks in, straight to me.

“Figured we could do with some back up,” he says, hugging me.

“You called my dad?”

“Yes.”

“But… when?”

“Last night.” He pulls back to look at me. “I don’t know what to do right now, and I can’t not do anything, Court. So, I called him because he’s your dad and he cares.”

I glance over his shoulder, to find Dad standing just inside the closed door. Hands on his hips, shoulders pulled back…

“Hey, Tig,” he says with a nod.

“Hi, Daddy.” I wave back as Auguste, chuckles, “Tig?”

“Tigger,” is all I mutter as I meet Dad in the middle of the room.

I know he’s going to ask why my dad nicknamed me after the hyper, overly chipper character, and the reason is pretty basic. When my dad was around, I was happy and enthusiastic about everything. From the moment he walked in the door, I could not stop talking to him and hounding him with questions.

Dad closes his arms around me without a single word, and that same overwhelming sensation that suffocated me when Auguste found me, undoes me now.

“Oh, honey…” he coos, rubbing my back—the way he used to when I was a child. “Your mom is going to be okay.”

I nod into his chest with a snort. “I was mean to her. I… I…”

“There isn’t a mean bone in your body, Courtney. Arguing with someone isn’t being mean, honey.”

“But it’s my fault that she was so upset that she crashed and?—”

“You weren’t driving her car, so no, it’s not your fault.”

“Martin said it is. He said I did and now he won’t let me see her. And I just… I just need to see that she’s okay. That I didn’t hurt her…”

“Court—”

“What if she dies?” I push away from him as the possibility really settles in. “What if I’ve killed my mom and?—”

“Court.” Big hands grip my hips and spin me into a hulking brawn. “Enough, Snow.”

“Augus—”

“Enough.” I balk at the stern tone. “Everything that asshole said is wrong and we are not giving it space or time.”

“She hasn’t woken up, Auguste.”

“Because she’s sedated.” His hands grip either side of. my face. “Remember what I said, they do that to help the brain recover.”

“I looked it up, and sometimes they don’t wake up. They just… just… they stay like that until…”

“Your mom is going to wake up,” is all he says with a tone so final that I can’t argue.