Authors: Mara Jacobs
“
Several, but not like this. I heard the pop. I’m thinking the ACL is toast, and maybe even the meniscus, too.”
“
You seem to know your way around the knee.”
“
Doc, in my line of work….”
“
Of course. And of course you’ve been at it for a good many years.”
It wasn
’t an age slam at all, but Alison saw Petey’s mouth form a thin line. “He’s in a tremendous amount of pain, Scott, maybe you could—”
“
Zip it, Al, I’m fine,” Petey barked at her.
“
You’re not fine. You’re—”
“
Fine. I’m fine. Can we just get the show on the road?”
“
We’re going to take you down for an X-ray first, then the MRI most likely.”
Alison stepped out of the way to let the nurses in.
“I’ll go find Lizzie and your parents and let them know what’s going on,” she told him.
“
No,” he said quickly, firmly. “I don’t want them to know you’re back here—they’ll demand to be back here. At least my dad will. He’ll….” He looked at Alison, knowing she’d understand.
And she did. She knew Dan Ryan would be in a very agitated state, and that was not a good look on him.
“Okay. It’s fine. I won’t go out there.”
“
In fact, you can go home. Maybe you could just go out a back way or something, so my parents don’t see you. Then text Lizzie that I’m fine and that she should keep my parents out there for now.” He put on his trademark grin and said to the nurses, “I love my parents, but if they’re back here fawning all over me, I
am
going to need those painkillers.”
Right. Somehow Alison couldn
’t envision Lieutenant Dan fawning over his son, injured or not. It would be more like Dan badgering Scott to fix Petey up quick so he could get back on the ice.
But she was absolved from the duty that should have been Lizzie
’s anyway. She started to gather her bag and then saw…something…flit across his face. Relief? Fear? Pain? “I’ll stay until you get back from your X-rays,” she said, moving her bag from the chair she’d placed it on and sitting down.
“
You don’t have to.”
“
I know.” A small look passed between them, but she couldn’t have identified it if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t. Textbook repression, but she didn’t feel like analyzing herself right now.
He said nothing as they wheeled him away.
“I’ll text Lizzie. See if she can’t get your parents to go home until we know what’s going on,” she called after him.
She heard a snort of laughter—or disgust—even though he was already down the hall.
“Yeah. Good luck with that,” she heard as Petey was wheeled through swinging doors off into the unknown.
The physical, whatever its nature may be, is itself unconscious.
~ Sigmund Freud
Of all the emergency rooms in all the world, Alison Jukuri had to walk into his.
Technically, Petey supposed, he
’d walked—wheeled—into hers, since she was already here visiting her dad.
Still, hers was probably the last face he needed to see right now when all he wanted to do was howl at the injustice of surviving fifteen years in the NHL only to be brought low by his childhood home
’s front steps.
They
’d taken his clothes off and put on one of those stupid gowns—though he’d insisted on keeping his boxers and tee-shirt on—and had done an X-ray and were now moving on to the MRI.
But he knew. He totally knew what the doc—
Scott
, for Christ’s sake—was going to say. The tests weren’t even necessary—his knee was shot.
He
’d have surgery. He’d be fine. He’d be walking well in a few weeks. He could even lace up skates in probably six or seven.
And he
’d never put on a uniform again.
If he were a younger man, it wouldn
’t be a problem. There would be rehab for the knee through the rest of the season and the off-season, and be ready to go by next fall. But he wasn’t a young man—at least not by NHL standards. And to have that knee at full strength—full out, bruising defenseman, enforcer, goon-squad strength—wouldn’t happen in Petey’s remaining window of playing time. If he’d had any doubts about his body being on its last season, they were gone now.
There was a sense of irony to it all that he was sure he
’d appreciate more if he weren’t in excruciating pain. Something only Alison picked up on. Though if you tell nurses and doctors you’re not in pain, that you’re fine, they were probably supposed to believe you.
Not Alison. Damn, he hated that she knew him so well. Especially since he felt like he never knew her at all, even after years of traveling in the same set of friends. Even after what they had gone through—No. He was not going down that road again. He
’d worn the hairshirt long enough at the time.
The irony of it all. Yeah, that
’s what he’d been thinking about as the technician situated his leg onto the MRI bed—
Fuck, that hurt
—while he smiled and said he was okay. The irony of just having told the front office, and then his parents, that this would be his last season. And then to have his season ended with one small fall.
No farewell visits to opposing rinks. No good-natured dirty hits from other teams because they
’d never get another chance to plant Pete Ryan on his ass. No wave of his stick to the crowd at the Joe when he finished playing his last game in his home arena.
Christ, he
’d never step on the ice at Joe Louis Arena again. At least not with a jersey on.
“
Okay, Mr. Ryan, we’re just about ready to begin,” the tech said to him.
Petey gave him a grin and replied,
“Take your time, ‘cause I think I’m heading into surgery after you’re done with me, and I’m in no rush for that.”
The tech seemed startled at that and Petey saw him look to the little windowed booth where his doctor sat. He couldn
’t see what looks passed between them, but the tech was silent and a little more careful as he readied Petey.
“
Okay, we’re ready to begin. First, you’ll—”
Petey held up a hand, interrupting the young man.
“It’s okay. This ain’t my first rodeo.”
Again, the tech looked beyond Petey and must have gotten the permission he needed to skip the preamble. He patted Petey
’s shoulder—which Petey should have found comforting but didn’t—and left the room.
The machine started up and his bed moved down into position. They were giving him instructions through the intercom, but he didn
’t really hear them. He didn’t need to, as he’d been through this a few times. And he didn’t want to think about where he was and what was bound to come next.
Think of something else. Think of—
Her shapely legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her, her ankles locked together like she couldn’t get enough of him. Later, her sweet little ass curled into him, letting him hold her while she slept
.
Aw, shit.
So
not where he wanted to go, even if it distracted him from the whirring of the machine that would be the messenger of bad news.
He
’d relived the night of Katie’s and Darío’s wedding a thousand times in the months since he’d awakened alone in Alison’s hotel room. Sometimes in frustration, sometimes in regret. Many times as a prelude to…well, the road could be a lonely place and there were nights where he just didn’t want to go through the work it’d take to leave the room and find a willing bedmate in a bar somewhere.
And the memory of his night with Alison would be the final thought that got him off by his own hand in the shower.
To see her walking toward him down the hospital corridor—after fantasizing about her for months—had made him wonder for a moment if the pain in his knee had driven him to hallucinations.
She looked the same as she always did, petite but curvy body, smooth, flawless skin a few shades darker than most of the heavily Finnish population of the Copper Country. Alison was Finnish—and not just on the Jukuri side—but she was what was known as a dark Finn, her ancestors hailing from Lapland.
So she didn’t have the white-blond, baby-fine hair that Katie—and many others in the area—did. Hers was a deep, rich brown that took on gold highlights in the summers when they’d all be outside all the time. She always wore it in a shorter style. Lately, it was cut with longer bangs in the front that kind of did this swoopy thing, but still short in the back, showing off her nape.
Nothing sexier than a woman
’s exposed nape.
Nor did Alison have the blue eyes that so often accompanied the light Finns. No, Alison had the most amazing, huge, expressive brown eyes that could relay compassion (for others), and irritation (for him) with a single look.
And those eyes had looked at him once—well, technically twice, but he’d been too young and stupid to recognize it at the time—with such passion, intensity and all-around lust that sometimes just remembering that look in her whiskey-brown eyes was all it took in the shower.
But she wasn
’t there for him. Lizzie’d made her keep him company until the cavalry arrived.
He
’d let her off the hook and told her to go, but she said she’d stay. He didn’t really know what to expect as they finished up with the tests and wheeled him back to the holding area or whatever it was called.
Alison was there with one of those electronic book readers in her hands. She looked up as they drew near and then stood.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“
They don’t tell you anything there. The doc will be around in a few minutes to tell me I need surgery.”
“
How do you know that?”
He shrugged—
Shit, even that seemed to hurt his knee
—and said, “I know the drill.”
She accepted that without question. They all knew when he
’d had surgery for lesser injuries before. Hell, Lizzie’d been at the hospital in Detroit through all of them. Katie and Ron had sent flowers. Zeke, Lizzie’s twin and Petey’s other best friend besides Lizzie, had flown into town for one of them.
Had Alison ever acknowledged any of his surgeries? A card? Anything?
No, he would have definitely remembered it if she had. Sudden pissiness overcame him. “I thought I said you could go home.”
She gave him a look of stone.
“I’m sorry. I must have missed the memo that said I listened to you.”
“
Did you at least text Lizzie and give her the scoop?”
“
Yep. She and your parents are still out in the general waiting area. Your parents still have no idea I’m back here. Or that anyone’s allowed back here with you.”
“
Let’s keep it that way.”
“
What? I’m going to go out there and tell them I’ve been back here the whole time and they could have been, too? And deal with the wrath of Lieutenant Dan? Uh, that would be no.”
And that
’s exactly how it would happen, too. “Jesus, he needs to get a life.”
“
He has a life,” she said with the compassion he knew was there but seldom got to witness. “You. You’re his life.”
He let out a long sigh that felt good.
“I know,” he said softly. They both knew it to be true. “This is going to kill him. I mean, hours after I told him I was going to retire, you’d think it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“
That was for real? You
are
retiring?”
“
Retired,” he said, motioning toward his offending knee, which looked perfectly fine. From the outside.
“
And you already told your parents?”
He nodded.
“That’s why I came home even though it’s just a couple of days’ break for the All-Star Game. I put in my paperwork this week. I’m done at the end of the season. I wanted to tell my parents face to face. Then I figured I’d need to see Lizzie after that.”
She looked away for a moment, thinking. Always thinking, Alison. With that genius brain of hers that he never had a hope of matching.
“What exactly would have happened in the next three months or so if you hadn’t fallen? Between now and your last game?” Her voice was low, soft and just a touch melodic, and he suddenly felt like her patients probably did—valued…important…safe.
But he didn
’t want her to see him as a patient. Had never wanted that.
“
I don’t know. Nothing much. Maybe a speech or something at the last home game. Hell, maybe even a bobblehead,” he said
“
You already have a bobblehead.”
She knew that? Did she have one? And why did the thought that she did mean so much to him?