Dreaming of His Pen Pal's Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,11

wouldn’t be his first thank you, and she’d never accepted his apology.

Maybe he should say something about that. He was definitely feeling more comfortable with her, although because of the stipulations in place, he didn’t really feel like he knew her.

Or maybe she didn’t feel like she could open up to him. He hadn’t exactly been welcoming.

She hadn’t complained though. And she’d written back like clockwork. Six days after he sent a letter, he could expect one from her.

“As long as you know The Big Dude is good, and he knows you’re gonna be hitting training camp in the best shape of your life.” His agent continued to speed walk on the machine, but he checked his watch and looked up. “Got another call scheduled. Keep in touch with me.”

Dante jerked his head and clicked out of the Zoom meeting.

He didn’t want to talk about his lack of family or his miserable childhood, and he wasn’t sure he could avoid that and still talk about how important football was to him.

How it had honestly saved his life, and that wasn’t being dramatic.

How it had provided opportunities for him that he wouldn’t have had otherwise, couldn’t afford otherwise. How it had given him money and prestige and given him a name and a purpose and a life worth living, none of which he would have had if it hadn’t been for football.

He owed the game everything.

He had a feeling The Healing Pen wouldn’t understand. She didn’t seem like a big sports person.

Interesting, how fading from the spotlight, even for just the time that he’d been off, had reduced his visibility in the romance department.

None of the girls he dated off and on again had stuck with him like The Healing Pen had.

It was partly his fault for not being on social media more, but he didn’t want to depress himself by seeing everyone else’s workouts when he couldn’t.

It had truly surprised him how much of the attention he had gotten was not for him as a person but was because of his fame.

No, he definitely didn’t want to mention football to The Healing Pen.

At least with her, he knew her attention wasn’t because of his fame, nor because of what he was, definitely not because of who he was, but probably more because of the kind of person she was.

He didn’t want her to change. He didn’t want her to know that—at least before his accident—he had been one of the best players in pro football, and rich.

He liked the idea of someone liking him just for him and not for his fame or money or prestige.

He thought maybe he should treat her a little better than what he had.

Dear Healing Pen,

I don’t think you’re prying to ask how I broke my leg. It was a car accident. It happens to a lot of people. I was a passenger in one of my friend’s cars. Funny how you look back in your life and you can see one decision that changed the direction of everything.

If this broken leg doesn’t heal right, it could change my whole life.

Actually, some things I’ve been thinking about. First, I would have done anything to keep it from changing anything because I liked my life the way it was. But now, maybe with a little distance, a little perspective, I can see possibilities.

I’m the kind of person who works hard, sets a goal, and doesn’t let anything distract him from it.

This broken leg was a distraction.

It’s been kinda hard to handle.

I was talking to someone the other day, and I maybe realized that part of the reason that I haven’t gone completely nuts is because of you. I figured I should thank you.

I also figured maybe I owe you a whitewater rafting trip. What do you think?

I also was thinking the people I thought would be around to see me haven’t been. I’m disappointed about some of them, relieved about others, and a little annoyed at my stupidity for still more. I realize there were a lot of people who liked me not for me but for other things.

Regardless of why you’re writing, you haven’t left me, and I thought, maybe, we could be friends?

Your friend, hopefully,

Computer Geek

JOURNEE SAT ON THE grass beside the gently gurgling brook, in the middle of the meadow, along one of her favorite trails.

One of the best things about working in the ER was that she was able to work three- and four-day weeks, twelve-hour shifts, and then have an alternating