Page 93 of Pickled
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GIDEON
The hospital’sharsh fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed above me. I’d driven here as fast as I could after the ambulance left the club. Lisa had already taken Olive to her house.
Piper gave a bleak smile as she entered the waiting room. “Like you said, it’s broken.”
“Cute cast.” I kissed her cheek.
“They gave me a choice.” She held up the pink cast. “I thought to myself, what color would Olive choose?”
“That’s the one.”
“Where is Olive?”
“Lisa took her to her house. The girls wanted to go swimming. I hope that’s okay.”
Piper looked relieved. “That’s perfect. I wouldn’t want her to see me like this.”
I knew that Piper was going to be sad. We had worked so hard, and we had almost done it. Actually, I knew that Piper wasn’t going to be sad—she was going to be devastated.
I whipped a Sharpie out of the pocket of my shorts. “Do you think Olive will mind if I’m the first to sign your cast?” I pulled the cap off with my teeth and made a fancy signature motion with the marker. I needed to start practicing my autographs again.
She blinked. “Gideon.” Her face brightened. “Did you get cleared to get back on the ice?”
“The doctor called while I was out with Ace. I wanted to wait for the right moment to tell you, but I hadn’t found it yet.” It felt criminal to be sharing my good news while Piper was having such a bad day.
I shouldn’t have worried. She wrapped her good arm around my neck and hugged me. “I’m so happy for you.” She let go and held out her arm. “Autograph my cast, hockey star.”
My signature and hockey number were well practiced, and I scrawledGideon Baileyacross the inner forearm portion—but added a heart after the number seventeen.
The smile that had come back faded away. “Six weeks.” Her voice was hollow.
“It’ll fly by. Come on, let’s get out of here.” I’d been in far too many hospitals these past few weeks.
“Six weeks of barely being able to work. Six weeks of medical bills. We were one point away, Gideon. One point.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. I grabbed an entire box of tissues from thereception desk and handed one to her, keeping the rest for the ride home.
The defeat in her voice was killing me. I’d seen plenty of injuries in hockey and knew firsthand the devastation of a career derailed by bad luck. I could handle it when it happened to me. Watching her suffer was ten times harder.
“The money’s not everything. I can give you ten thousand dollars.”
Her eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare. You know I would never accept it from you.” We were blasted with heat as we walked through the automatic doors.
The ride home was quiet except for her occasional shaky breath. She wasn’t crying anymore; it seemed like she’d used them all up. When I pulled into her driveway, she stared at the stairs to her apartment like they were Mount Everest. Her wrist was her worst injury, but her ankle had been sprained in the process as well.
“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet. “For staying. For driving me home. For everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
She stared at me,, cradling her cast. “I know you want to help, and I appreciate it, but I need some time to figure out what comes next.”
I took a breath. I already had a plan; I just had to get the most stubborn woman I knew to agree to it. “Piper. Let me help you up the stairs. I’ve made some calls, and there’s a few things I need to tell you.”
“Gideon…” She hopped out of the car, then hissed in pain.
“Dammit, Piper.” I bolted from the driver’s seat, scooped her in my arms, and carried her up the stairs. The last time I’d been in this apartment, I’d been soaking wet and seconds from blowing my load. I hoped that after I shared my news, and when Piper was feeling up for it, we’d be able to pick up where we’d left off.
“I talked to some people—”
