by Alice Ward
The bar sprung alive with debate, but my only focus was the television. I felt as if my very existence was tied to Ethan’s. I needed him to be okay, even though I still didn’t understand why. The paramedics loaded his limp body onto a stretcher and an ambulance pulled straight onto the field.
“We have to go,” I announced.
“Billy, I need to tab out.”
The bartender swiped Melissa’s debit card and she gave our untouched shots to the couple beside us. She scribbled her name on the receipt while I headed for the door.
“Neither of us are in any shape to drive,” she pointed out as we stumbled onto the sidewalk.
“Then we’ll take a cab. Where would they take him, Melissa?”
“I don’t know for sure. That’s not the kind of information the team shares with anyone. But if I have to guess, I’d say Oregon Medicine and Science.”
“Are you sure? Providence Medical is closer,” I pointed out.
“Yes. But the teaching hospital has better doctors and equipment.”
“Then that’s where we’re going.”
I stepped to the curb and hailed an oncoming cab. We slid into the backseat and I gave the driver our destination. He had the game playing on the radio. During the thirty-minute drive to the hospital, the sportscaster made two separate announcements that there was still no news on Ethan McAlister’s condition.
“He’ll be okay, right?” I asked Melissa under my breath.
“I don’t know,” she warned. “He hit the ground pretty hard. And he had a lot of weight on top of him. I don’t want to feed you false hope, Emily. This could be bad.”
I nodded and gripped her hand tighter. When we finally pulled up to the emergency room entrance, I threw two twenties at the driver and told him to keep the change. I rushed through the open glass doors and into the sterile waiting area.
“Can I help you?” asked the nurse behind the desk.
“We’re here to see Ethan McAlister,” Melissa explained.
If the nurse recognized his name, she did a great job of covering it.
“Room number?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I’m not even sure this is where they brought him.”
“I understand you’re worried, ma’am,” she replied with genuine sympathy. “But I’m not allowed to give out patient information. I can direct you to a specific room, but nothing more.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Melissa pulled me away. “We understand,” she called over her shoulder.
I shook off her arm as we neared the end of the hallway. “What are you doing? I have to find Ethan. I have to know he’s okay. You don’t understand, Meliss—”
“I get it,” she assured me. “And we’re going to find him. Just follow my lead.”
After finding the main lobby, Melissa stopped in front of a large board that listed every doctor’s office number.
“All of the ortho offices are in wing four B, and the neuro docs are one floor up. I think it’s a safe bet that the patient rooms are close by,” she explained.
“Thank God you’re good at your job. Let’s start on five. Surely they’d prioritize his brain over his bones.”
“One would hope so,” she agreed, rushing after me to the elevator. We rode the car up to the fifth floor and started wandering the hallways, examining the handwritten nameplates on each patient room door.
“You can’t be here,” announced a harsh male voice.
Startled, I turned toward the sound. A strict looking man in a lab coat stared back at me with a frown. The young, burly man behind him met my eyes with a hint of recognition. Melissa sidled up beside me and gave the doctor her most charming smile.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, her voice dripping with innocence.
“This is a closed patient floor. You’re not allowed here.”
The younger man cleared his throat, his eyes still on me. “You’re Emily, right?”
“Yes,” I replied with a sigh of relief.
“This is Ethan’s girlfriend, Doc. He’ll want to see her when he wakes up.”
The doctor pinched his lips with disapproval, but he didn’t make us leave. “Ethan was just taken to radiology. If you’d like to go to the waiting room down the hall, I’ll come get you when he’s regained consciousness.”
“Thank you.”
The doctor gave us a curt nod and continued down the hallway.
“And thank you,” I told the other man.
He nodded and extended his hand. “Brock Simpson, I’m one of Ethan’s teammates.”
“You were injured last week,” I remembered out loud. “How’s the ankle?”
“Not so hot.” He lifted his pants leg, revealing a thick metal and neoprene brace. “Since I wasn’t dressed out for the game, coach let me ride in the ambulance with Ethan.”
“I’m glad he wasn’t alone.”
Brock nodded and the three of us followed signs to the fifth-floor waiting area. Melissa bought three bottles of water from the vending machine and we sat in nervous silence until the doctor reappeared nearly an hour later.
“Ethan is awake,” he announced. “Miss Kinkaid, he’s asked to see you first.”
Relief rushed through my chest and I rose to my feet.
“Take your time, Emily,” Brock insisted. “Just tell Ethan I’m here if he needs anything.”
“I’ll wait right here,” Melissa added.
The doctor paused and studied her for a moment. “Don’t you work for one of the local news stations?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’m a field reporter for Channel 9 News.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I trust your visit tonight is strictly personal?”
“Absolutely,” she agreed, her voice solemn.
He was silent for a few more long seconds, then decided he believed her. “Very well. This way, Miss Kinkaid.”
I followed him down the hallway, anxiety growing in my chest. “Is Ethan going to be okay?”
“I’ll let him answer that for you.”
The doctor pushed open Ethan’s door and disappeared into the room. I took a deep breath and followed. Ethan was propped up in the hospital bed. His face was bruised and cut and tubes snaked into his body, but he looked happier than I’d ever seen him.
“Hey baby,” he greeted me with an ecstatic grin. “If I’d known a few bumps and bruises was all it would take to get you back, I’d have gotten blitzed a month ago.”
***
I knocked lightly on Ethan’s hospital door and gently swung it open. He was sitting upright in his bed, frowning at the screen of his laptop.
“Hey,” I greeted him tentatively. “Are you up for some company?”
Relief washed over his face as he looked up from his computer. “You’re here. I was starting to wonder if I dreamed that. Come in.” He pushed the tray table away from his bed and moved his legs to one side of the mattress. Half of me wanted to rush to him, the other half was afraid I’d hurt him. I perched on the arm of the recliner instead of settling down beside him.
“How do you feel?”
“Like a thousand pounds tackled me,” he replied with a cringe. “But my head is clear today. Doctor Murphy told me I was pretty out of it last night.”
I nodded. “It scared me,” I confessed. “When I first saw you, I thought you were fine. But then you started talking nonsense, and you kept laughing at the wall. The doctor explained it was just the effects of the painkillers they’d given you. But after the way you were knocked out, I was terrified something more serious was going on.”
“My head is the least of my problems. I just got word from the trainer. Thanks to this, I’m sitting out for at least three weeks.” He nodded toward his right arm, which hung from a sling in front of his chest.
I knew he was disappointed, but I felt incredibly relieved. I knew Ethan would play hurt if the coaches and trainers let him.
“Three weeks will fly by in no time,” I assured him, my voice hesitant. This was the fi
rst time we’d really talked since I threw him out of the school, and we were both ignoring the elephant in the room.
“If you want, I’ll keep you company while you heal.”
Ethan reached for me with his left arm and I finally joined him on the bed. “I want that very much,” he whispered.
I lowered my lips to his and kissed him gently, savoring his taste. He pulled away when my salty tears hit our lips. He brushed my cheek with his thumb and stared at me with concern.
“Emily, I’m going to be fine. I promise,” he assured me.
“I know,” I sobbed, my tears falling harder. “I was just so scared. I wasted weeks trying to convince myself I was better off without you. But I couldn’t let you go. Melissa and I were watching the game at the bar. When you hit the ground and didn’t get up… I thought… I thought—”
“Shh,” Ethan whispered, easing my head to his left shoulder. He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head.
“I’m so sorry I wasted so much time. I don’t want to waste any more time,” I sobbed.
“You didn’t waste anything. I did,” he insisted. “I was a bull-headed asshole. We can take things as slow as you want, Em. Just tell me that I haven’t lost my chance with you.”
“You haven’t lost anything,” I told him, lifting my head from his shoulder. I took him by the hand and looked into his soft, hopeful eyes. “I can’t fight the connection between us, not anymore. When I watched those linebackers take you down last night, I felt the impact course through my entire body. When they loaded you onto the stretcher, it was like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. All I could think about was getting to you. I still don’t understand this. But I’m ready to figure out what these feelings mean.”
Ethan squeezed my hand, then lifted it to his lips. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. And I meant what I said. We can take this as slow as you want. I’m happy just to be in your presence. And I’ll understand if you still want to keep this quiet. I don’t blame you for not wanting to be hounded by reporters.”
“There’s no way we’ll be able to keep it quiet. Until you’re healed, I have no intention of leaving your side for anything other than work. You’re going to be sick of me by the time the doctor clears you for practice.”
“You really want to take care of me?”
“I really do,” I told him with a genuine grin. “But if this is going to work, there are a few things you’ll need to understand.”
“I’m all ears,” he insisted.
“I know you’re used to getting your way. But I don’t do well with ultimatums. You don’t get to decide how you want things and demand I fall in line.”
“I’m sorry,” he offered with a regretful groan. “I never should have told you we had to be all or nothing. Especially since you were fresh out of a long relationship. Of course you needed time to get your head on straight. I should have understood that. The way I spoke to you that morning… that was all insecurity.”
That surprised me. “What in the world do you have to be insecure about?”
Ethan shrugged. “You were with Ben for a long time. You’d told me over and over again how much you loved him, how you planned to settle down with him. I thought you didn’t want to make things official with me because you were still hung up on him.”
That never crossed my mind.
I held his face in my hand and stared at him, my eyes firm and determined. “I don’t want you to ever entertain a thought like that again. I thought I loved Ben. But I can see now that what I really loved was the idea of the kind of life I could have with him.”
“Is that still the kind of life you want, Emily? An uneventful, settled life?” he pressed. I heard the anxiety in his voice and felt bad for not being able to give him the answer he was hoping for.
“Deep down? Yes. If I had my way, you’d have a boring nine-to-five job, you’d play golf every Saturday, and we’d have pancakes every Sunday morning. That type of existence seems exciting to me because I’ve never had it before. But I know that’s pretty much the exact opposite of what you want. And I’d never ask you to give up the life you love.”
“So where does that leave us?”
I shrugged. “We’ll both have to learn to compromise. I guess we’ll figure it out as we go.”
I moved to kiss him again, but the door flew open and a petite, middle-aged redhead bustled into the room.
“Good aft — oh I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t realize you had company. Hello dear, I’m Martha Montez. And you are?” Ethan’s mother extended her hand and looked me up and down with a critical eye.
“Mom, this is Emily Kinkaid. I’ve told you about her. Emily, this is my mother.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Montez,” I offered, politely shaking her hand.
“Kinkaid… you’re the kindergarten teacher? You teach at that underprivileged school.”
“The Day School isn’t in the best of neighborhoods,” I patiently agreed. “But we have students from a variety of backgrounds.”
“That’s wonderful, dear,” she replied with a dismissive wave. She wedged herself between us and started fussing with his pillow.
“How are you feeling, darling? Are they taking good care of you here?”
“I’m great, Mom. I’d be better if you hadn’t pulled strings with the trainers. I know you influenced them to bench me instead of putting me on the injured reserve list.”
She fluffed a pillow with a vengeance. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
Martha’s tone told me she knew exactly what he was talking about. But I didn’t want Ethan back on the field any more than she did, so I kept my mouth shut.
“Come on, Mom. Half of the team’s played with broken ribs at some point or another. And even with a busted collarbone, my aim is better than Bronski’s. If Coach had his way, I’d be on the field Thursday night.”
“Honey, you can think what you want. But your broken ribs are in dangerous places. If you’re hit again before they’re healed, you could puncture a lung. Your life is more important than a few games.”
“I think we all agree on that,” I piped in, a little too eager to get on Martha’s good side.
She turned her nose up and looked from Ethan to me. “I trust you understand it’s important my son doesn’t exert himself in any way?”
My face flushed hot at the implication in her words. Ethan, on the other hand, seemed amused by her warning. “Don’t worry, Mom. Emily isn’t going to screw me to death.”
“Ethan David!” Martha gasped.
My face burned hotter, but Ethan pressed on. “I’m sorry, Mother. But if you insist on being inappropriate, so will I.”
She scowled at him but changed the subject. “I called for an update earlier and your nurse said they’re planning to release you this afternoon. Mercedes is setting your old room up and I’ve hired a nurse to take care of you during the day while Victor and I are at work. When you’re up to it, text Mercedes a list of the food you want her to stock.”
“None of that will be necessary, Mother,” he insisted. “When I get out of here, all I want to do is go home.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. Who will take care of you?”
I cleared my throat. “I will.”
She shot me a look. “I don’t mean to be condescending, dear. But I’m not sure you’re capable of doing that.”
“I can take care of myself,” Ethan interjected, his voice harsh. He took a deep breath and continued on with a softer tone.
“Look, I appreciate that you want to take care of me. But I’m a grown man, Mom. I want to heal in my bed, with my things around me. And I already have everything I need for PT in my home gym.”
Martha studied him silently for a moment then let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I know better than to try to talk sense into you when you get like this.”
She turned to me, her hands on her hips. “Do you plan on moving into Ethan�
��s place while he’s recovering?”
“I plan to be there as often as he needs me,” I replied. Ethan and I hadn’t discussed me moving in. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that big of a commitment, and I certainly didn’t want to discuss it for the first time in front of his mother.
She sniffed. “I assume you won’t be able to take time off work?”
“I wouldn’t ask Emily to do that,” Ethan chimed in again.
“Fine. I won’t force you to move home, on the condition that the nurse I hired takes care of you while Emily’s at school.”
“Deal,” Ethan agreed. “But tell her to bring a book or something. I’m far from helpless. She’s not going to have much to do.”
Martha looked at the gold Rolex on her wrist and planted a quick kiss on Ethan’s cheek.
“I need to get back to Victor. We have a charity event tonight for the Children’s Hospital. You’ll call me if you need anything?”
“Yes, Mother.”
She nodded at him and then stepped past me without making eye contact.
“Emily, can I please speak with you in the hallway?” she asked just before disappearing through the door. Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but she was already out of sight.
“You don’t have to go out there,” he told me.
“It’s fine,” I assured him, crossing my fingers. “I’m sure she just wants to give me a few pointers on how to take care of you.”
He scowled and his head fell back on his pillow. “Not likely.”
I took a deep breath and joined Martha in the hall. She led me wordlessly to the waiting room and pointed at a bench.
“Have a seat, Emily.”
I sat down and folded my hands in my lap. “Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Montez?”
She stood in front of me, hands on hips. “Yes. You can tell me what your intentions are with my son.”
“I’m not sure how to answer that,” I admitted, meeting her eyes. “I care about Ethan. For the moment, I intend to take care of him, make sure he follows the doctor’s instructions, and keep him company while he gets well.”
“And after he’s well?” she pressed. “Will you be moving back to your place, or do you intend to use this as your way of becoming a fixture in his life?”