of voices coming from somewhere in his house as he lay in his bed. One male and one female. For a moment he was mildly curious as to whom the voices belonged to. He lived on the secluded side of a small island off the Florida coast. He had picked the location because it was almost junglelike. Hot and overgrown and tropical. At times he felt as if he was the only one on Earth. No guests. No visitors allowed. Just a cleaning woman and a groundskeeper who came once every other week.
It must be them talking. None of his friends would come down here, even though they had offered once they had learned of his bad news. But after a while the offers had stopped. His phone no longer rang. He was alone. As he wanted to be.
He pulled the covers over his head in a vain attempt to block out the bright sun that was streaming through his bedroom windows and tried to go back to sleep. It was probably well past noon, but he wanted darkness. Night was the only time he could shut his eyes and forget that the world was still going on without him.
“Carlos!” He heard the voice of his baby sister, Ava, and then felt her bounce onto the bed. “This bed is enormous. Is he even in here?”
“Yeah,” his brother and Ava’s twin, Elias, answered. “He’s the lump in the middle.” A hard fist came down on his shoulder.
The hit stung but Carlos, too tired to even make noise, said nothing, just pulled the covers away from his face and glared at his younger siblings. “What...” His mouth felt dry. His tongue heavy from not having been used in so long. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to anybody, much less carried on a conversation.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The twins were the only ones who still came around. They both led busy lives so he didn’t see them much. But they were the only ones who attempted to keep his connection to the outside world.
“We came to see what you were up to.” Ava gave him a once-over, concern in her eyes that hadn’t shown up in her voice. “You look terrible.”
“You look like shit,” Elias said, staring at him.
“I’m healing. Get the hell out.” He turned over and put a pillow over his face. He didn’t want to see anybody. He didn’t want to be around anybody. That was why he had escaped instead of staying in Miami, where all of his friends, colleagues and fans were. Why hadn’t they gotten that through their thick heads by now?
“And I thought you were Mr. MVP. Mr. All-American. Mr. Super Nice Guy Baseball Hero.” Elias shook his head. “If your fans could see you now.”
His fans.
They wouldn’t want to see him now. They wouldn’t want to see him at all. Not like this. Not broken and useless.
He had only been good for one thing, and that was winning games. Now that he couldn’t do that anymore, what was his purpose?
He was Mr. MVP, a star player since the day he’d picked up a glove. But that had all ended when his Achilles tendon had ruptured during the playoff game that had taken his team, the Miami Hammerheads, to the World Series. Surgery, rehab and six months away from baseball, and all he had to show for it was a nasty scar and decreased range of motion.
“How’s your foot?” Elias asked him, seeming to have read his mind. His brother grabbed his leg and studied the scar on his heel. Carlos could have fought the examination, but frankly he was too tired to give a damn. Plus, Elias was a doctor, in his first year of surgical residency. Even though his brother was a pain in his ass right now, he trusted his opinion.
Elias pushed back on his toes, causing a slight twinge in his tendon that hadn’t gone away since the operation. “Feels really tight,” Elias said, rotating his foot. “Are you doing your exercises?”
He was quiet. He had been good about it until a few weeks ago, until his father’s birthday arrived and it had hit him. He no longer had the two things that mattered most in his life. His father and the game.
Nothing seemed important anymore.
“That’s such a nasty scar,” Ava said, touching it. “He went to the best of the best, you’d think they’d find a way to make the scar look better.”
“It would have been better if Mr. Overachiever here hadn’t overdone it after the surgery. Thought he could go back normal activity, just like that. The wound got infected. You did more damage than good by overworking it.”
“Thanks for the recap. Now get out.” He didn’t need the reminder. He knew he had screwed things up, but he’d wanted to go back so badly. It was bad enough that he’d missed the game of his life. He hadn’t wanted to miss the next season. But instead of a quick recovery it had been setback after setback.
“You know how many hours I work. I barely get a day off. When I do, I come all the way from Miami to see you, the least you could do is be hospitable. Offer us some coffee. How about some lunch? A glass of lemonade? Something.” Elias looked down at him, annoyed.
“What do you want?”
“To see you, big brother.” Ava snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Mom was asking about you.”
“I just talked to Mom. She’s having a nice time in Costa Rica with her sisters.”
“Yes, but since we live in the same state she thinks that we should spend time with you. I know you’d much rather be left alone, but I’m more scared of her than you. So we’re here. Get over it.”
Carlos sighed and wrapped his arm around Ava. He’d always had a soft spot for his baby sister. She had still been in college when their had father passed away, and at nine years her senior he had stepped in over the years in their father’s absence. “She is scary,” he admitted with a sigh.
“She’s started working out,” Elias said. “If I didn’t have a foot and a hundred pounds on her, I’m pretty sure she could take me.”
“Get up, Carlos,” Ava said, rising from the bed. “Feed us. I do love this island but it’s a pain to get here.”
It looked as though Carlos didn’t have much of a choice. Sometimes he viewed his younger siblings like a bad rash. Hard to get rid of. Everybody else had easily faded away once he’d gotten injured, but Elias and Ava had never left. And they wouldn’t leave him today until he got out of bed.
He forced himself past the immediate, familiar feeling of tightness in his heel as he set his feet on the floor. One of the reasons he’d bought this house was because of the huge master suite. It contained a bedroom, bathroom and sitting room, and with the small fridge he kept in there, he didn’t have to leave it for days at a time.
The house was enormous, much bigger than one man would ever need. But he had bought it because his father had liked it. It was oceanfront, secluded. The landscape around it made him feel as if he were in an undeveloped tropical country instead of on a little island off the coast of South Florida. His father had said it was a place that he could see a family spending their summers. He’d said it was a place built for a superstar. Carlos had bought it, thinking that his parents would spend their winters there and that the family would gather there for holidays. But when his father had died from a massive heart attack that had all changed.
His mother spent most of her time traveling around the world. Too active to stay still. Too sad to be around anything that reminded her of her husband. His older sister stayed in their native
