I sigh. “Let’s make a deal. You see a doctor, and I—”
“I don’t need a doctor.” The irritating sharp undertone in her voice is back.
I roll my eyes. This woman is driving me fucking nuts. I crawl over to where my cane lies and push myself off the floor. So much for never crawling over a floor again. Good thing I did all that stretching before practices and games. These movements wouldn’t be possible without it.
I turn back to the woman on the floor. What am I going to do with her? “Lady, your foot is—”
“Don’t say it.” Her tone is razor-sharp.
I lift my free hand in defeat. “I won’t, but you need to go to a hospital.”
She drops her head. Her body slumps. Please don’t cry. My mom’s tears have been enough to last me a lifetime. Unlike my mom, I don’t think Ellie would want me to hug her right now. I’m not sure if I would want that either.
I should have learned my lesson after our first encounter and stayed away from her. The woman means trouble. Still, I can’t leave her lying on the floor with no way to call for help. I shudder.
Never, ever will I subject another human being to what I had to endure. The feeling of helplessness and uncertainty of not being sure whether I would make it to my phone in time to call help will be forever imprinted in my brain. “If you’ll let me call an ambulance, I’ll send a car to pick up your son.”
She plops down to one side and drops her head on the floor. “He’ll send a car to pick up Johnny. A car.” She laughs. Twice. A fake laugh. “Can you believe it? A car.” She pushes herself up again and narrows her eyes. “News flash. I don’t know about your world, but in my world, the daycare doesn’t put a kid in a car without having the consent of a legal guardian. And even if they did. Johnny is not even three. He needs a car safety seat and someone he knows around him. You can’t just send a car to pick him up.”
I rub my eyes. That’s why I never want kids. The shit you have to think about to meet their needs, it’s fucking tiring. I close my eyes and count to five before I open them again. “We could call a car and pick him up first and then take you to a hospital.”
It’s so inconvenient that I can’t get in and out of my sports car anymore. Buying a family van is not an option. I’m not fucking thirty yet. I don’t want an old-man car.
“We need a car with a safety seat.” She looks up at me and stretches out the hand with my phone for me to take.
I rub my chin. “I’ll—”
“I don’t think I can stand up on my own.” She looks at her foot. Then at me.
I sigh and take the phone back. Who do I know with kids? And who would be willing to help me?
I flip through my contacts. My finger hovers over a number I don’t think I’ve dialed before. I have this particular number because everyone gets the captain’s contacts. Ex-captain in this case. He might have changed the number since then. But he has kids, and I got along with him. It’s a long shot. It’s also my only option. I push the call button.
“Ness.”
I release the breath I’ve been holding since the first ring. “Hi, Nessy. It’s Michael. Michael King.”
“Michael, nice to hear from you. How are you?”
I manage not to wince. I’m making progress here. “I’m… good. Listen, uh, do you have a car with a safety seat?”
Listening to Nessy, I watch as Ellie flinches twice while she examines her foot. Luckily my former teammate has time to pick us up. He’s a good person. I thought it a pity when he retired from his role as the Ice Tigers’ captain.
Nessy also can lift Ellie. I can’t. Good-for-nothing Michael. At least I can still make phone calls.
“A… friend will pick us up. He has kids and a safety seat,” I say into the silence after I end the call.
She nods. Then pretends to study the floor.
I look at my watch. I have no idea how long it’ll take Nessy to arrive at the shop. So we sit in silence next to what was once a beautiful fake fireplace—before I crashed into it like I used to crash into opponents.
Old habits don’t die easily.
Chapter 7
Michael
I tap my foot while waiting for the doctor to finish Ellie’s examination. Thank God Nessy is still here. I’d have no idea what to do with her son. One thing’s for sure. That kid has more energy than the Energizer Bunny.
During the ride to the hospital, he chatted nonstop, telling his mom about all the things he played today. At some point, I zoned out. Was I ever that chatty when I was little? I’ll have to ask my mom. It’ll make her happy to talk about my childhood.
I wish I could go back to that time right now. If I ever find that stupid remote control to life, I’ll rewind back as far as possible before you can so much as blink. I snort. When pigs fly around like birds.
I tap my good foot some more and make a face when I stretch my bad one. Then I look at my phone. The doctor went inside the examination room forty-five minutes ago. How long does it take to determine whether a foot is broken or not? How long did it take them to figure out what was wrong with mine? I can’t remember.
My world was collapsing around me. Time was the last thing on my mind. Nothing mattered but the ice-cold realization that my hockey career was over while I was lying on my back unable to move. Wishing it was only a nightmare and once the night was over, everything would return to normal. But there wasn’t a normal anymore. And there still isn’t. Maybe there never will be.
I close my eyes to hold in the water that has begun to pool in them. To distract myself, I turn to my right, where Nessy has Ellie’s son on his lap. The kid’s fallen asleep. A miracle.
First, he and Nessy played catch me if you can on the lawn outside. When Nessy brought him inside, he read him a picture book, and then they looked at a card game with dinosaurs. During all the activities, the kid didn’t stop talking for a single second. Must get that from his mom. That woman doesn’t know when to shut up either.
Speaking of which, her voice rings loud and clear through the door to the examination room. “I won’t stay; you can’t make me.”
Damn that woman. I get it. I hate hospitals too, but her foot is seriously injured, and if she doesn’t want to end up with a limp…. I close my eyes. The worst is the smell—the sterile and yet sick smelling air. I shudder. I’ll never get that out of my—what did she call it—smell memory?
Without giving it much thought, I get up and open the door to the examination room. A nurse tries to block the door, but I place my free hand on her shoulder and move her out of the way before she can say anything.
Technically, none of this is my business. But Ms. I’m-too-stubborn-for-my-own-good is driving me nuts. I’m itching all over from the hospital air. The sooner I can leave this place, the better. Thank God we’re not at the same hospital I was treated at. I’m barely holding it together in this place and don’t want to imagine what the other one would do to me.
The young doctor turns to me. “Sir, you can’t be in here.” I look right through him. Right at Ellie’s foot—or better, the cast around it.
“How bad is it?” I shuffle over to her.
She blinks twice but answers. “I don’t need surgery. The cast will have to stay on for six weeks.”
“Why don’t you want to stay here?” I look directly in her eyes and detect a few new brown freckles. Why am I even noticing them? It says a lot about my current situation that I’d rather concentrate on brown spots in Ellie’s eyes than admit the havoc a visit to a hospital causes inside me.
She sighs. “Johnny can’t stay here.”
I turn to the doctor. “Why can’t the kid stay with his mother? Can’t you put a second bed in her room? I’ll pay upfront for her treatments.”
The doctor shakes his head. “With all due respect, sir, we’re not equipped to host children.”
I turn back to Ms. Stubborn. “I’m sure Nessy can take the kid—”
“His name is Johnny, and he isn’t used to being witho
ut me.” Ellie gives me only a brief glance before she turns back to the doctor. “Please prepare my release papers.”
“Is this a walking cast?” I turn to the doctor.
He nods.
“She’ll need crutches, won’t she?” I don’t wait for his answer but turn back to her. “I barely have any experience, but how are you going to care for a kid with crutches?”
If I have to turn from her to the doctor once more, I’ll get sick. Let’s get this thing over with. I want to go home and forget about everything that’s happened today. Time to move forward. Staying at a hospital isn’t the way to do it. Another item I can put on the don’t-want list. If I figure out a new thing each day, I might have a clear idea of what I want my life to be like before my lifetime is over.
“None of your business.” She shoots daggers in my direction, then presses her lips together.
If a glance could kill, I’d have died a second ago. I shrug. “Just making sure you’re going to be okay.” What do I know about kids? Her son might be old enough to take care of himself.
“I can take care of myself. The only thing I need is a ride home.” Ms. Stubborn is back in full force.
I shake my head. More stubborn than a mule. Ellie’s right, it’s not my business. She’s a grown woman. I don’t want others to interfere with my life, so I won’t tell her what to do either. I turn without another word and leave the room.
“She okay?” Nessy asks when I sit down next to him again.
“Her leg is broken.” I sigh. “Listen, can you drive her home?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “She can go home with a broken leg?”
I shrug. “Just asked for discharge papers.”
He rubs his chin and looks at the sleeping boy in his lap. Yup, just what I was thinking, caring for a kid with crutches isn’t possible. And if I with my nonexistent knowledge about kids can figure that out… but who am I to judge her. Ellie’s a grown woman and can take care of herself. She just said so, didn’t she? It’s not like she’s lying helpless on the floor anymore.
“She could stay with us,” Nessy says.
I raise an eyebrow and drop it immediately. Nope, I won’t get more wrinkles over this woman; the ones I have are already enough. The last months have sped up my aging process to the point where Botox more and more appeals to me.
“You talk to her,” I say without enthusiasm. If he wants to saddle himself and his family with Ellie and her son, that’s his problem, not mine. I just want to go home and…. I’ll find something to do at my house. Pity the place has been renovated in my absence. I could lead the renovation if my dad hadn’t already taken care of it while I stayed with my parents.
The kid chooses this moment to wake up and rub his eyes.
“Hey, buddy. How was your nap?” Nessy helps the boy to sit up.
“Where Mommy?” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, then stares at me as if he knows I’m the one responsible for her injury. The kid is weird.
“Mommy is still in the examination room, but she’s okay and will be with us soon. Do you want to read your dino book?” Nessy asks him.
“Mommy tay?” He places his hands against Nessy’s chest and looks at him with big eyes. His are the same brownish green as Ellie’s.
“Yes, your mommy will be okay. Her leg is hurt, but it’ll heal. Can you fetch your dinosaur book for me?” Nessy ruffles through the kid’s hair. He giggles.
Then the boy slides down my former captain’s knees and opens the backpack on the chair next to Nessy, which sports a laughing dino itself. Why this obsession with dinosaurs? They’ve been dead for, what, millions of years? Billions of years? Not sure if I learned that in school. Dinosaurs are no longer alive. That’s what matters.
Toys clutter the floor with way too much noise when the boy pulls out his dino book with great enthusiasm and nonexistent coordination skills. For fuck’s sake. All this commotion is giving me a headache. What’s taking the doctor so long with these fucking discharge papers?
Nessy jumps from his seat and helps the kid to clear the floor. Good thing. That way I don’t have to do it—not that I would be much of a help anyway. I close my eyes. My throat is dry, and I’m having trouble breathing. Fucking hospital air.
Luckily for me, a nurse pushes Ellie through the door that very moment—in a wheelchair. With her leg propped up. What will she do if the boy throws his toys around him as if they were confetti?
Not your problem, Michael. She knows what she’s doing.
“Mommy.” The boy squeals and throws himself at Ellie.
“Hey, little man. Have you been good, Johnny?” She kisses his forehead.
“He was very good. We had a lot of fun.” Nessy walks over to them and ruffles the boy’s hair again. Then he hands the kid his backpack.
“Fun” is not the word I’d have chosen, but he’s a family man. I’m not. Nor will I ever be one. Never wanted to. I’ve already put that on my don’t-want list, but a second time can’t hurt.
“Do you need the wheelchair just to leave the hospital?” I ask.
She turns to me. “Yes. I need to pick up the crutches on the way to my apartment.”
Nessy bends down to her. “Ellie, you can stay with us. We have a guest room, and my wife says it’s not a problem. I’ve already texted her. She’s eight months pregnant, but—”
“We’ll be fine, but I’d appreciate a ride home. You’ve done more than enough, Nessy. Thank you so much for coming to my rescue.” She smiles warmly at him.
Why is she thanking him and not me? A stab right through my heart and back couldn’t have hurt more, if I still were capable of feeling… anything. As if I needed another reminder that I’m fucking worthless.
Paying for the hospital bill obviously doesn’t count. I get it, I caused her to fall. It’s all my fucking fault. Without waiting for them, I push myself up, turn away, and shuffle to the entrance. Breathing inside this damn building is fucking impossible at this point.
When the door falls shut behind me, I release the breath I’ve been holding all the way through the lobby. Fucking hospital air. Even outside I can still smell sickness and despair.
It takes ages for the others to reach the car. They’re quite a sight—the boy with his too big backpack and the giant man pushing the wheelchair with the mousy woman in it.
While Nessy puts Ellie in the back of the car and straps the kid in his safety seat, I climb in the front seat.
The ride to her apartment is a repeat of the previous drive, where the boy tells his mom every single fucking thing he played with Nessy while she had her leg examined. My headache reaches an all-time high. Even when we stop to pick up the goddamn crutches, he doesn’t close his mouth.
How can one person talk so much? And in that high-pitched kid voice. Fucking annoying. I wish I had my noise-canceling headphones with me. Still, I manage to block out my surroundings until we stop in front of a colonial building—a run-down colonial building.
“That’s where you live?” I turn around to Ellie. She’s a shop owner. Shouldn’t she be able to afford better than… this?
The paint on the house is nonexistent. The entrance door hangs slightly off its hinges, and the balcony over the entrance looks like it will crash down at any time. “Where are we?”
“We’re in Roslindale.” She reaches for the door handle.
“Is this your house?”
Ellie freezes mid-motion. “No. We live in an apartment on the second floor.” She places her hand on the handle, ready to open the door.
“Does this place have an elevator?”
She freezes again but doesn’t turn around. “No.”
I close my eyes for a second before I speak. “You’re not going to stay here.”
“Says who?” Her head flies back in my direction, and our eyes meet. Time for another staring competition. One thing’s for sure, Ellie sure as hell isn’t boring to be around.
“You can’t be serious about wanting to stay here. How are you
going to climb the stairs?” I narrow my eyes like she did earlier.
Nessy coughs in his hands. The fucker. Why isn’t he helping? He can’t want her to stay here any more than I do.
“I live here.” She doesn’t blink. For fuck’s sake. I have a few things to say about her home. This area doesn’t look particularly safe for a single mom. Shouldn’t she be more concerned about her kid’s safety? Aren’t Moms supposed to be concerned all the time?
I audibly release some air. “Go with Nessy. He already offered you his guest room.”
She closes her eyes for a second, then stares right back again. “You don’t know what it’s like to be heavily pregnant. Well, I do. And I’m not going to impose on his wife.”
It’s my turn to close my eyes. I’d rather roll my eyes but that might freak her out a little too much. “Okay. I’ll pay for a hotel room, but you can’t stay here. What if something happens? You won’t be able to walk down the f—”
“Not the F-word. And turn down the volume. You’re scaring Johnny.” As if to emphasize her words, she turns away to look at the safety seat next to her.
I stretch my neck to look at the kid. The boy doesn’t look scared at all; he isn’t even in the car anymore. He’s standing outside with Nessy. When did that happen?
I’m intelligent enough not to make a comment about her son. She’s on fire enough already. Instead, I focus on the task at hand. “You can’t stay here.”
I don’t wait for her to answer, but climb out of the car myself. Thank God Nessy has a family car and the cane provides enough support to climb in and out. Mentally, I’m saying goodbye to my Porsche. If I don’t want to depend on Uber or other people for the rest of my life, I won’t have much of a choice. But I really don’t want a family car.
I sigh and take a closer look at our surroundings. Nope. Not safe at all.
I turn back in time to witness how easily Nessy lifts Ellie out of the car, and my fingers clench around my cane. I’ll never be able to carry a woman ever again.
My blood rushes so fast through my veins I can hear my own pulse. Rather than facing my own problems, I focus on Ellie’s. “What will you do if someone breaks in? Before you can make it out of the bed, he’ll have taken everything you own and your son.” I turn to her as she sways from one side to the other, leaning on her crutches. The woman hasn’t even enough upper body strength to climb half of the stairs if you ask me.
Fighting against Gravity: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Sports Romance (An Ice Tigers Hockey Romance Book 3) Page 7