Chapter 25

When Paul came home about a week later, he had spied Tyler, who had his leg propped up on a cushion while watching TV.

"What happened to Tyler?" he asked Sandy.

She shot him a look. "Someone teaching him how to be 'Mr. Hustle' in basketball, one teenage boy putting what he was taught into practice during gym class, and falling as a result. Paul, why do you insist on teaching things to Tyler while you two are goofing off outside? You know how impressionable teenage boys can be."

"Hey, I have to form a bond with the kid somehow."

"Sure, and have my son practically kill himself in the process. Paul, unlike you, Tyler doesn't have years of training and practice. Really, use the organ between your ears once in awhile."

"Aw, come on, San, huh? Do you have to be ragging on me now?"

"Got to do it sometime and it's much harder to 'rag on you' when you're thousands of miles away."

"Yeah, and now I'm barely home a few hours and you're on my case. Come on; it was a long, hard ass tour and I'm tired as hell."

Paul then pulled off his shoes, wincing as he took off one of them, which Sandy did not fail to notice.

"Are you all right?"

"It's still hurting a bit, but nothing I can't handle."

"Paul, if you aren't 100 percent, you shouldn't of been running around the ring like a banshee, because that can make things worse for your ankle and foot."

"Are you going to nag me the whole time I'm here?" he whined.

"I am nagging because I'm worried about you. I know you love your career and are a hard worker, but you could do some permanent damage from going back sooner than you should."

"I only did a few nights the whole time I was gone. Honest."

Sandy shook her head and sighed. "Just what I need, to come home to two crippled men."

"You think I like this?"

"Of course not, silly boy," Sandy said, kissing the top of his head. "Mmmm, nice."

"What's nice?" Paul wondered.

"You growing your hair long again; you got the right kind for that look. Kind of reminds me a little of Tarzan without the loin cloth. And your hair's so soft and smells nice. I could bury my face in it all night long."

Paul raised an eyebrow and gave a mischievous smile. "Hmmmm, all night, huh?"

"No, seriously," Sandy said, playing with it. "It's nice. Frankly, I think it's nicer than mine sometimes. And get your mind out of the gutter. You need your rest anyway."

"It wouldn't hurt if you got some too," he said. "You aren't working yourself to death, are you, baby? Don't get pissed, but you look a bit tired yourself."

"It's no big deal; I've been like this the last week or two, and I had a little stomach bug last week before Tyler got hurt at school."

"And you still went to work?" Now it was his turn to be worried.

"Ha! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Look at your leg and foot. You worked with that."

"I've also worked with a hell of a lot worse. Seriously, baby, you should go lay down for awhile. You can't look after Tyler if you're too tired to see straight."

Sandy stifled a yawn. Maybe a nap would be good while Paul was around; he and Tyler usually hung out together at times anyway.

"Sure. Maybe I'll get in about an hour or two. Meanwhile, get that leg up and make sure Tyler keeps his up too. There gel packs in the freezer if you need them and leftovers in the fridge if your or Tyler get hungry."

"Right," he nodded. "Now go lay down for awhile."