Page 113 of Goal Line
“Okay. While your heart rate is normal, your blood pressureisstill a bit higher than I’d like. I do think we need to start you on some medication to help keep that down.”
“It’s safe for the baby?” Eva asks, her hand flexing in mine. My thumb sweeps across the back of her hand in a consistent, hopefully soothing pattern.
“Yes, of course. The safest thing for the baby, honestly, is that we keep Mom as healthy as possible. I think you should take some time off from skating, and from exercise in general, this week. Nothing more rigorous than a fast-paced walk.”
Eva nods, but Dr. Lowery must see something in her face because she says, “I’m sorry. I know you’re training, and I don’t think you need to necessarily stop yet, but I’d like to get this medicine into your system and make sure it’s working before you go back to skating or working out. I think a week is enough time for us to figure out if it’s effective.”
“It’s fine,” Eva says, her tone making it clear that she’s worried about losing the practice time, even though she knows her and the baby’s safety is the most important thing. “I can take the week off.”
At thirty-two weeks, she’s not allowed to do jumps or lifts anymore, but she’s still training on the ice—something she knows she’s going to have to give up very soon, so losing this week is going to be hard for her, emotionally.
“You mentioned warning signs we should watch for?” I ask.
“Yes. Eva, if you get a sudden headache—one that feels like a band wrapping around your head and squeezing—or you’re feeling dizzy or nauseous, or you start seeing spots in your vision, or notice increased swelling, those are all signs that something is wrong and you need to seek medical attention immediately. Any of those would be a get-to-the-hospital-as-soon-as-possible event. More than one of them at the same time would be an indication to call 911.”
“I’m supposed to go to Minnesota next week, for twonights, to film an endorsement deal,” I tell her. “Should I cancel that?”
“Not necessarily,” Dr. Lowery says. “Lots of women deal with hypertension in pregnancy, and we’re on top of it. Plus, by that time, Eva will have been on her medication for over a week, and things should be stable. It might be a good idea, though, for someone to stay with Eva while you’re gone. If anything were to happen, we’d want someone to be there to help.”
Eva glances up at me. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t want you to miss it.”
I’m tempted to say I’ll just cancel. It’s not like we need the money.
However, the deal is with a national sports apparel brand—the kind that athletesdreamof partnering with—and the exposure could be amazing for my career. Especially with Colt set to retire at the end of the season, anything that improves my name recognition as a goalie will be a positive thing for both my career and the entire Rebels organization.
“We’ll see. I can reschedule if needed.” It absolutely would not be easy or professional, but if I had to, I’d make it happen.
“I can always ask Morgan,” Eva says, and for the first time since this whole incident started last night, there’s a note of hope in her voice. It eases the knot of anxiety in my stomach, just a tad.
I love that she’s making friends in Boston, and if me leaving town for a couple of nights helps her cement that friendship, then I’m willing to do it. Bringing her hand up to my mouth, I press a kiss to the back of her it. “Whatever makes you happy, Evie.”
Chapter Forty-Five
EVA
The following week, I walk into the Rebels practice facility alone. Public access to the rink, including Rebels practices when they’re in season, is a nice perk of having a pro hockey team in your city. But it also means the place isneverdeserted. Except, apparently, at seven in the morning.
As I stand on the upper-level waiting for Lauren, who suggested this ungodly hour, I close my eyes and breathe in the familiar, cold scent of a rink. And when I breathe out, opening my eyes and taking a step forward toward the edge of the balcony, I catch sight of a single skater.
For a quick second, I think it’s Lauren, and that she got started without me. That seems highly unlikely though, given that when Lauren texted to invite me here to skate this morning, she mentioned she was only willing to try again because I’d be with her.
But then I notice the long, dark hair, the hockey skates,the powerful and confident glide of a woman who’s so used to being on the ice, skating seems as effortless as breathing.
AJ takes a quick lap, and then slows to grab a stick that’s propped inside the players’ box. She backskates across the ice and turns toward the goal line, while deftly batting the puck back and forth, before coming to a stop at center ice.
I clear my throat, and she looks up to find the source of the noise. Scanning the seats, she eventually locks eyes with me, standing one level above.
“Well, this is unexpected,” Lauren says from behind as she steps next to me. Her red hair is back in a claw clip, and her hoodie hangs open at her sides.
“You didn’t know she’d be here?” I know Lauren and AJ are close friends, but maybe she doesn’t keep track of her boss’s schedule like that.
“I didn’t even know she still skated.”
AJ skates toward the box and sprays the boards with ice as she comes to a quick stop. “Might as well come down here and talk about me to my face,” she calls out.
Lauren’s laugh is huskier than I’d expect from someone with such a sweet voice. “You’ve got so much explaining to do,” she shouts back playfully before we head down a flight of stairs to the tunnel leading to the bench.
Once we’re at ice level, Lauren says to AJ, “You didn’t tell me that you still skate.” She sounds hurt, and I wonder why this is something AJ would hide, if she and Lauren are such good friends.
