Page 145 of Break the Ice
ELIJAH
Dr. Armstrong’s office is not what I thought it would be. While all the other offices I’ve been in are utilitarian boxes with fluorescent lighting, whiteboard and cork board walls, hers is quaint. It looks more like a library than a sport’s franchise office.
Dark bookshelves line the entirety of the wall behind her desk with books, frames, and awards arranged meticulously.
“I’m glad you decided to come see me this morning.” She’s smiling like we haven’t sat in silence for the last fifteen minutes. “I’ve told my assistant to give you priority on my schedule.”
Staring down at her leather notebook where she keeps writing even though neither of us is saying anything, I ask, “No one wants to talk with you, do they?”
“There’s a certain misconception that I’m here to help the coaching staff make roster calls. In fact, I’m here to help you, the players.” Placing her gold pen down on the desk, she clasps her hands together, watching me while she continues, “While I do report to the coaching staff and the board of the franchise, my job is to make sure that the Comets do not let any of their players and staff down. Family looks out for family.”
That’s a coach one-liner if there ever was one.
“How did your first biofeedback session go?”
“Fine. Kind of easy, actually.”
There’s something about the way she smiles that sets me on edge as she scans through her iPad. “Looks like you had to slow down a few times.”
“No,” I snap at her.
Dr. Armstrong sits back in her chair, elbows on the armrests as she pushes back and crosses one leg over the other.
Her whole demeanor is frustrating the hell out of me. Even at my slowest, I’m faster than a lot of the other guys.
“Does it bother you?” She asks, watching as I cross my arms in front of my chest like maybe it’ll be enough to stop her probing. “You seem upset about it.”
Dr. Armstrong is holding my stare, waiting for me to make a move, to speak.
This is pointless. Coming here was a mistake. I should get up and walk out of here right now; except I need to do this to pacify Coach and comply with my medical team’s advice. More than that, there’s a chance that talking to her could help me be better for Finley and Jayden. I want that more than anything.
“How about we ease into conversation?” Rolling her chair to the side of her desk, she stops a few feet away.
Dr. Armstrong is a well put together woman with her stoic, British accent, and her loose, cream blouse and fitted tan leather skirt outfit that give her a refined presence. Still, she’s barefoot and casually sunk into her fancy desk chair with her dark auburn hair piled high on her head messily.
“Everyone calls me Dr. Armstrong, but I prefer Connie. It’s the name my mother gave me, and I am very fond of my mum. How about you? What would you like me to call you? Elijah, Eli, Sylkes… Preacher?”
I think about it for a beat before I reply, “I like Eli.”
“Why not Elijah?” When I give her a confused look, she says, “I’m curious, that’s all.”
“Ummm… I guess it reminds me of where I came from. It’s not really a place I’mfondof.” Opening up her notebook, she folds it open and starts scribbling again. “Why are you making note of that?”
“I’m getting to know you, so I’m making sure I don’t forget anything important.”
“What’s important about what I just told you?”
Turning the page toward me, she shows me my name scrolled in her loopy writing. “I want to make sure I address you the way you prefer, Eli.”
Is she playing mind games with me? She is, right? Giving me a false sense of ease so I talk to her?
“What else do you like about Eli?” She smiles, dropping her eyes to her notebook again.
“Anyone that’s ever really cared about me calls me Eli. Except for Finley, she’s always called me Elijah.”
“Is Finley your girlfriend?” Her question triggers my pulse to take off.
It’s not an easy question to answer when I’m not entirely sure where we stand or what we are to one another. “It’s complicated.”
