Page 51 of Pickled
The thought had crossed my mind. How could it not? Truthfully, it had more than crossed it. It had occupied ninety percent of my brain capacity since I’d come home from the hospital. “It’s going to be fine. A little bump like that isn’t going to end this guy’s hockey career.”
Did I say it more for myself? The league had been getting really strict on concussion management. Long gone were the days when players like Lindros were allowed to keep playing after getting hit. I was going to have to jump through all the hoops to prove to the league they weren’t staring down the pages of a lawsuit.
I set C.C. on the ground, pulled the lever for the chair, and got up. The ground wavered underneath my feet, but only for a second. I blinked, and the sensation disappeared. It was like I’d been on a boat and had just set foot back on land. Ace was distracted watching as C.C. scratched the Italian leather sofa. He hadn’t noticed me reach for the back of the chair for stability.
“Are you going to stop that?” he asked.
I shrugged. “He can scratch anything he wants, as long as it isn’t this chair.”
“That damn chair,” Ace laughed. “Come on, Cat Lady. Let’s get you cleared to get back on the ice.”
On the wayto the doctor’s appointment, Ace insisted that we ride with the top up. On the way home, with me in the driver’s seat, where I should be, the hot Miami breeze whipped our hair. Both of us wore our hats on backward, and after the visit to the stuffy doctor’s office, the fresh, salty air felt amazing.
It was too noisy to talk while we were on the interstate, so I veered onto the Coastal Highway. The winding drive along the ocean was a prettier drive, and we would be able to talk to each other. Since we’d left the office, there was something I wanted to say to him, but I waited until I didn’t have to shout. “It’s a shitty situation, but I’m glad that you’re here.” I downshifted into a corner, the waves of the ocean crashing beside the highway as we zoomed along.
“Me too, Bailey.”
Fuck. I almost cried. “I thought that you were Bailey now.”
Ace fiddled with the knob for the radio. “Big brother, whenever we’re together, the name is yours.”
I gulped down the lump in my throat. “You don’t need to stay tonight. You’ve got stuff to do in Toronto.”
Ace’s lips narrowed. “Were you buttering me up just to try to get rid of me? The doctor wants you woken up every hour tonight, and if I don’t do it, who will, your cat?”
Piper’s smile flashed in my mind, but I pushed it away as fast as it arrived. “You’ve obviously never slept in a bed with a kitten who thinks your feet are a creature in the blankets who needs to be killed.”
Ace laughed. I was wondering about those hideous feet. He pointed to my sandals; my tanned feet were crisscrossed in scratches of varying shades of red. “I think it’s overkill, but the doctor has to cover his butt. And, look, you’ve got an entire week off. What are you going to do with yourself if you can’t play hockey?”
I thought about asking Ace to stay with me; we could make up for lost time. I could show him around the city, we could go to the beach, but he had a life, a faraway one with Goldie and Morton. A life that involved daily hockey practice, something that he was missing as Nurse Ace. “I’ve got a few books to read. Maybe I’ll train C.C. to scratch the tree instead of the couch and my legs.” The idea of sitting idle for an entire week was overwhelming.
“Do you want me to pick up some knitting needles and tea?” He stuck his arm out of the car, and his hand undulated in the wind.
I stepped on the accelerator hard, and Ace’s head jerked back against the headrest.
“Ow.” He returned his arm to the safety of the car and dramatically rubbed his elbow.
“Does a grandma drive like this?” I laughed.
The doctor wanted me to rest and see a physiotherapist before he would sign the papers to get me back on the ice. He also refused to give me a timeframe, but I couldn’t imagine it taking longer than a week. We reached my laneway, and I pulled up to the garage.
“What’s that?” Ace pointed to the front door. “It looks like a cooler.”
While the garage door whirred and clicked upward, I leaned past Ace. “It does look like a cooler. That’s weird.”
“I’ll get it.” Ace hopped over the side of the car without opening the door. “What’s that?” He pointed to the floor and leaned into the car, kicking his feet in the air like he was stuck.
“You’re an idiot.” I laughed and shook my head, making a mental note to tell Ace that I loved him before he went back to Toronto.
He returned his feet to the ground, and his face was flushed as he tossed some envelopes on the seat. “You’ve got some mail.”
“Mail?”
Piper. She’d tucked her mail in beside the seat the first day we’d gone for a drive together. I decided to leave it on the seat and drop it off to Reggie at the guardhouse. Piper had made it very clear she wasn’t going to break our agreement. Would itbe neighborly to return some mail? Yeah, probably. But if Piper wanted space, I’d give it to her.
I parked the car, and the second I walked inside, Ace was playing a song with the doorbell. “Coming,” I groaned.
“Housekeeping!” he shouted from the other side.
