Page 35 of The Goalie in Room 1

I didn’t mention the trauma of growing up with a mother who whored herself out to the club of bikers she scored her drugs from.

“Maxie…can you give Cash and me the room?”

8

THAD

I stood watching the door Cash disappeared through, wanting to call him back and try to explain better or more. But something told me that cornering Cash Benjamin would do nothing but push him further away. I walked over to Davina’s desk and picked up Cash’s surgical binder from where it lay on the floor next to his chair.

Dammit. I had him take it off for the exam. He didn’t need to be walking around on that knee after working behind the bar like he had last weekend. His knee was still swollen when I examined him today.

I picked up the brace and walked back to my office for my keys. He most likely had multiple braces, but if this was the one he wore to his appointment, it was either the one that felt the best given where his knee was today or the most comfortable one he owned.

Either way, I refused to let him be without it. Especially on the off chance it was the only one he had.

On the way to the parking garage, I ran into the office staff returning from lunch.

“Hey, Doc,” they said, with barely a pause in their conversations.

Their laughing and joking made me happy. The whole team got along well. Their camaraderie made the work we did easier and helped the patients.

Davina waved the others on when she stopped next to me. Once everyone was out of earshot, Davina motioned toward the binder and brace. “He left?”

“Yeah. He did.”

Cash wasn’t the first potential patient to rush out of the office. He certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Can you help him?” she asked.

I nodded. “I can, but not to the extent he would like.”

She sighed with a nod. “He could surprise you, Thad. He wouldn’t be the first, and he won’t be the last. You’re not all-knowing, you know.”

I chuckled at the way her words mirrored my own thoughts from a moment before. “That he could.”

“Well, Doc, go convince him. Your accountant will be tickled if you could write off another surgery or two before the end of the year.”

“I’m surrounded by smartasses.”

She laughed at me as she walked backward away from me. “You wouldn’t have it any other way, Dr. Vale.”

She wasn’t wrong. My brother, my work at Halo House, and my staff kept me sane and humble. When she disappeared around the corner toward the office, I headed toward my car.

My clinic wasn’t far from Halo House, but I planned a stop first now that Davina mentioned the accountant. I wanted a listing of all the hours I donated to Halo House and the other donations I made, and the pro bono surgeries I’d performed. Maybe if he saw I didn’t consider him a charity case, he’d go through with the surgery. As much as I didn’t think he’d make it back on the ice professionally, I knew the surgery would help him live a better, longer, fuller life.

When I walked into Halo House, voices came from the kitchen, so I headed in that direction. I heard Maxie first, and I smiled at the sound of the little’s voice. But then Cash’s voice came to me, and I stopped, ashamed, though not enough to not eavesdrop.

“I grew up in a world where you had to prove your worth. Where nothing came without a price—usually a pretty steep one.” He paused, and then he said, so softly I barely caught it, “I worry what the price will be.”

The way he worded it gave me pause. It also made me question, and not for the first time, a world that allowed people who should never lay eyes on a child, much less have one, to do so, while others who desperately wanted a child and would do anything for them couldn’t. I stepped into the room, unable to listen to Cash worry about my intentions, or those of Phoenix and Halo House, any longer. His words made me glad I’d stopped at the accountant’s office though. Maybe if he saw that any price to be paid came from the benefits of a tax write-off, he’d be willing to move forward with the surgery.

“Maxie…can you give Cash and me the room?”

Maxie looked between Cash and me before standing. “Sure thing, Dr. Vale,” he said, then hurried out of the kitchen.

I sat in the chair Maxie vacated, setting the surgical binder and the accountant’s report on the table between us. Pushing the brace toward him, I said, “You left this.”

He finished chewing the food he’d shoveled into his mouth before dragging the back of his hand over his lips. “Thanks. The other one needs some adjustments.”