Page 24 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

"She's not my…"

Annette raises one eyebrow. I stop talking.

Coach laughs outright. "I'll call later." The line goes dead.

Annette looks from me to the phone, then back again.

"Trying to organize the hockey world before breakfast?"

I set the phone aside. "Only my tiny corner of it."

She smiles, just a little. "I was afraid you might say that."

"How's your pain?"

"I've had better mornings."

"I remember. You used that line yesterday."

"So did you."

For the first time since waking up I laugh and somehow the room feels a little less like a hospital.

Annette walks to the sink and washes her hands before turning back toward me.

"How'd you sleep?"

"I was unconscious for most of yesterday."

"That wasn't my question."

"No."

"It rarely is."

She slips the blood pressure cuff around my right arm with practiced efficiency, no wasted motion, no unnecessary conversation.

She reminds me of Caleb in goal. Everything economical. Everything is exactly where it belongs.

The cuff tightens and the machine beeps. She writes the numbers on her chart. "Blood pressure looks good."

"I've always been an overachiever."

"Hmm."

That tiny sound somehow tells me she doesn't believe a word I say, and I find myself smiling again.

Strange.

Most people either treat me like I'm made of glass...or like I'm supposed to entertain them.

She does neither. She simply treats me like a patient…a stubborn one. But still a patient.

"Pain?"

"Four."

She looks up and I immediately regret answering.