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“Thanks for nothing, Malina,” Francine smiles, reaching out and patting Malina’s hand where it still rests on her injured knee. With her other hand, she reaches for mine, holding it tight. “Will I skate again?”
Will I skate again?
I’ve asked that question a time or two in my own career.
“If it’s what I think it is,” I clear my throat, answering a question I wasn’t asked and drawing a curious glance from Dr. Zee. “It’s an easy fix. You’ll be on the ice again in no time.”
“Forgive me,” Francine offers a pained smile, “but I think I’d like to hear that from the doctor in the room.”
“He’s right. You’re looking at a simple procedure to go into the knee and either repair or remove the damaged cartilage. Depends on the severity of the damage. You’ll know more after an MRI.”
“Should I take her to an ER?” I ask.
“No,” Francine squeezes my hand, “I’ll call my orthopedist first thing in the morning, I see him regularly so hopefully he’ll be able to get me in or just go ahead and order the test.”
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Rachel leans down and hugs Francine, Malina doing the same. “Stefan, it was nice meeting you. Take care of my girl, okay?”
“I will.”
Francine leans down and pulls a pair of shoes from her gear bag, before quickly sitting up, brows pinched as tears threaten at the corners of her eyes.
“Stats,” I crouch down in front of her, gently wiping her hair away from her face, and thumbing away the few tears that fall. “You okay?”
“I can’t get my shoes on.” The frustration in her voice pierces straight to my heart. “I could probably get the left one on, but I can’t get the right one. Every movement hurts.”
“Let me help you.”
Francine blows out a frustrated breath, no doubt biting back a protest, as I carefully slip a shoe onto her right foot and neatly tie the laces. When I’m done with both shoes, I sit back, startled to find tears slowly, silently, streaming down Francine’s cheeks.
“Is it the pain?”
“Humiliation more like,” she answers, her voice rough with emotion. “I should be able to do that myself.”
“There’s noshould,Stats. There’s no shame in being injured, it’s a part of hockey. It’s a part of life.”
“I know better,” her voice is watery as she swipes away hot, angry tears. “I skated too hard. Too fast. I feel so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.” I push up from the floor and sit beside her, gathering her in my arms. I’ve been in her shoes, feeling like I’ve screwed up. Feeling like I brought my injury upon myself, and beating myself up for it. She doesn’t need me to tell her she’s not stupid, but I’m going to keep reminding her until she believes it again. “This isn’t your fault. And Dr. Zee is right, you need to get home and get settled. Ice and elevation will be really helpful tonight. I hope it’s not too forward, but I don’t like the thought of you being home alone until we know what’s going on. My house is one level, the guest room is really nice, and I’d feel a lot better knowing you’re not alone.”
“You’re lucky I’m in too much pain to argue,” Francine lays her head against my shoulder. “I may need you to venture into my apartment and grab me some clothes though.”
“I can do that.”
Over video chat, from where I left her in the passenger seat of my car, Francine guides me through her bedroom as I put together an overnight bag for her. Pajamas and personal items. Clothes for a couple days just in case, and a blanket from the basket in her living room.
“Anything else you need? Or want?” I ask, standing near the door and looking around the warm and cozy apartment.
“No,” she sighs, “I think that’s enough.”
Before I leave, I grab one of the flannel pillows off of her couch, thinking it will be a good taste of home, but also helpful for propping her up if needed, and drop it into the bag with everything else. There’s an e-reader on her end table, and I tuck that into the bag as well before locking up and making my way back to Francine.
“All packed up,” I slide in beside Francine after packing her bag into the trunk beside her gear bag. “Do you mind if I make one more stop before we get to my house?”
“Not at all,” she covers a yawn with the back of her hand. “As long as you don’t mind if I doze off while you drive.”
“Of course not.”
When I was kid every time I got hurt on the ice my dad would take me for ice cream. It didn’t matter what time of year it was, we got ice cream. He said that ice cream made everything better, and I don’t know if that was true, but for the most part it did make me feel better. Before heading home, I stop at the first convenience store I find and come out with two pints of ice cream.
