Priceless Read Free Page B

He’d had enough football injuries to guarantee that—including one final blown-out knee that had ended his career on the field. Granted, his life had never been on the line, but even so, he hated the antiseptic smell, the too-perky nurses, the beeps and whirring of machines, the evasiveness of the doctors who never looked you in the eye when the news was bad. If he’d hated it, how much worse must it be for a kid, especially a kid who had to face the possibility that he might not come out alive?
    During his football career, Mack had made it a habit to visit children in this hospital and others. The smiles on their faces, knowing that for a few minutes, at least, he’d taken them away from their problems, made his own discomfort seem like a small thing.
    Now that his own playing days were over, he made fewer of these visits. Most kids wanted to meet thecurrent players, and from his position in the team’s front office, he made sure it happened, even if it made some of the biggest, brawniest players in the league cry afterward. Men who took a lot for granted suddenly started counting their blessings after a hospital visit to cheer kids facing the toughest fights of their lives. Nothing he’d ever encountered had given him a better perspective on what mattered in life.
    Outside Tony Vitale’s door, he braced himself for what he’d find inside—a pale kid, maybe bald, his eyes haunted. Mack had seen it too many times not to expect the worst. It never failed to make his chest tighten and his throat close up. Forcing himself not to react visibly had been one of the hardest lessons he’d ever had to learn.
    “You okay?” Beth asked, regarding him worriedly. “You’re not going to walk in there and pass out on me, are you?”
    Mack gave her a disbelieving look. “Hardly.”
    “You wouldn’t be the first man who couldn’t take seeing a kid this sick,” she said.
    “I’ve been here before.”
    She gave him a look filled with understanding and commiseration. “It’s always hardest the first time. After that, it gets easier.”
    “I doubt that,” Mack said.
    Her gaze stayed on his face. “You ready?” she asked finally, as if she’d seen some minute change in his demeanor that had satisfied her.
    “Let’s do it.”
    Beth pushed open the door, a seemingly genuine smile on her face. “Hey, Tony,” she called out cheerfully. “Have I got a surprise for you!”
    “Ice cream?” a weak voice called back hopefully.
    “Better than that,” she said, then stood aside to allow Mack to enter.
    Admiring her performance and determined not to let her or the boy down, Mack gave her a thumbs-up and strode into the room.
    The boy lying amid a pile of pillows and stuffed animals was wearing a too-large football jersey with Mack’s old number on it. He clutched a football against his scrawny chest. When he spotted Mack, he struggled to sit up, and for just an instant there was a glimmer of childish delight in his dull eyes before he fell back against the pillows, obviously too weak to sit upright.
    “Mighty Mack!” he whispered incredulously, his gaze avidly following Mack’s progress across the room. “You really came.”
    “Hey, when I get a call from a pretty doctor telling me that my biggest fan is in the hospital, I always show up,” Mack said, swallowing the familiar tide of dismay that washed over him. The men who walked onto a football field every Sunday and allowed equally brawny men to tackle them and pound them into the dirt didn’t know half as much about real bravery as this kid.
    Tony nodded enthusiastically. “I’m your biggest fan, all right. I’ve got tapes of every game you ever played.”
    “That can’t be that many. I had a short career.”
    “But you were awesome, the best ever.”
    Mack chuckled. “Better than Johnny Unitas in Baltimore? Better than Denver’s John Elway? Better than Dan Marino in Miami?”
    “Way better,” Tony said loyally.
    Mack turned to the lady doc. “The kid