Page 26 of Slapshot Baby

Her face crumples. For a second I think she's going to cry or bolt, but then she visibly straightens. Her chin comes up.

"Wow, okay," she says. "That's a blow to the ego I'll be processing for a while."

"I didn't mean..."

She takes a step closer, speaking with a gentle tone. "I designed the VIP lounge at the LA Ice charity thing. You told me the room used to look like a furniture showroom."

My mind doesn’t come up with any image. But the way she says it, lips twitching, makes me wish I’d remember it.

"Did I actually say that?"

"You said it was catastrophic."

She smiles, and it changes her whole face. My lips stretch without my consent. I start laughing at my reaction. It hurts my head, a sharp pulse behind my left eye.

Her whole posture shifts, arms dropping, a step forward before she catches herself.

"You okay?"

"Laughing apparently has side effects now."

"Then I should probably stop cracking jokes. For medical reasons."

"Please don't."

The words come out before I've thought about them.

She blinks. I blink.

Mira watches from her chair, coffee cup frozen halfway to her mouth. Mom’s expression is soft and a little stunned and Dad has already left the room.

Ava recovers first.

She crosses the distance and wraps her hands around mine.

"You don't have to remember me. You just have to get better. That's the whole job. You think you can handle it?"

"I've handled worse."

"I doubt that, but I appreciate your confidence."

She squeezes once and lets go, and my hand feels the absence of it, which makes no sense for a stranger.

She pulls the visitor chair closer to the bed and sits, tucking one leg under her. She digs in her bag and brings out a small, green, stubborn-looking potted plant then sets it on the tray table beside the machines.

"It's a succulent. It's basically impossible to kill. I figured that was on-theme. Water it once a week and ignore it the rest of the time and it thrives."

"You're giving me a plant?"

"I'm giving you survival instincts. Anytime you look at the plant, decide you’ll survive and win."

“That makes sense.”

She nods, looking pleased with herself.

Mom makes a sound that's half a laugh, and Ava turns to her.

"He's going to be okay. Look at him,” she says, gesturing at me. “He's already insulting me. That's a man on the mend."