Chapter Three
ISABELLA
Iopen my eyes and instantly breathe in the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
Okay, so this is one of the best things about being back home for a while.
Is there anything better than waking up with the coffee already made for you?
This is something I will miss when I leave.
Not that I don’t love where I live in LA.
My roommate and friend, Elise, is the best. We’ve been sharing an apartment for years.
She’s an entertainment lawyer and the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.
She’s one of those people who never had to study and breezed through getting her education.
I’d be terrified to go up against her in a courtroom.
Yet, she’s also one of the warmest people and can make friends with everyone she meets. But she doesn’t make me coffee.
I stretch out carefully and shift onto my side, settling back against the pillows.
Thankfully, I’m finally sleeping again. After the injury, even something as simple as lying down felt impossible.
For the first few days, every position hurt.
I spent most nights moving around, exhausted and frustrated, trying to find some angle that didn’t make me wince.
Last night was the first time in a while that I slept deeply enough to wake up feeling rested, even though I didn’t get to bed until later than usual.
After the hockey game, my dad insisted we all go to a diner together.
My parents have been embracing every second of having the whole family in the same city.
Honestly, I can’t blame him. It’s been a long time since we’ve been able to spend time all together.
The game was a lot of fun. I’d never realized how intense hockey fans could be until seeing it in person.
The entire arena was loud from start to finish.
And wow, the fans are vocal. They shout at refs and pound on the glass relentlessly.
The energy was contagious, and by the end of the night I felt the need to shout along with the thousands of people around me.
Then there are the players. And some of them very easy on the eyes. I’ve always been a girl who loves the athletic type.
Meeting a few of them after the game made the night even better.
They all seemed so friendly, signing autographs and taking the time to talk to everyone.
But my family completely lost it over one player in particular named Austin.
He noticed my crutches right away and asked what happened to me, and suddenly everyone in my family decided that meant he was interested.
According to my brother, the guy was “casually flirting.” He wouldn’t stop teasing me about it, thrilled by the possibility of his sister dating a professional hockey player. My dad joined in too, throwing out little comments every few minutes while I tried to act unbothered.
I kept insisting Austin was probably just being nice, but honestly…
the way he smiled at me made it a little hard to believe that myself.
Regardless, it was a nice evening out and something I needed more than I realized.
I’ve been feeling down after everything that’s happened.
I don’t like feeling helpless, and not being able to be active has taken its toll both physically and emotionally.
At first, I thought I could take care of myself after the surgery, but my parents are much wiser than me. Elise offered to help, but it was a lot to ask and expect of her. So here I am, recovering under my parents roof with fresh coffee waiting for me.
I reach for my phone and scroll through messages from friends and co-workers.
Natalia gives me daily play-by-plays, which is nice.
Everyone has gone above and beyond to be supportive, but of course my FOMO is real.
Seeing them all together, celebrating, dancing their hearts out is heartbreaking.
I keep reminding myself that everything happens for a reason and sometimes things are out of my control. Ugh, but why is this so difficult?
I sit up slowly and prepare myself for another day on the evil crutches. But there is light at the end of the tunnel. I’ll make it through this and I’ll come out even stronger. At least, that’s what I’m striving for.
I think being an aunt might be my favorite thing in the world.
I’m curled up on the couch beside baby Jude, who might be the happiest baby ever born.
Seriously, the kid’s smiles are endless.
It’s amazing how one tiny little soul can bring so much joy into an entire family.
Just having him in the room changes everything.
The energy around him is pure joy. It almost makes you forget everything else happening around you.
While I soak up quality time with my nephew, Sammy and my mom are deep in conversation about all the fall events coming up in town. It seems like there is something to do every day—pumpkin patches, craft fairs, Halloween markets, community festivals.
“It’ll be Jude’s first pumpkin patch,” Sammy squeals, as she gazes over at the baby. “Wait until you see the little overalls I bought him. They came with a matching hat. And I found this tiny henley sweater to go underneath. You will die when you see it.”
She holds up her phone to show us the darling little outfit.
My mom presses her hand to her chest like she might cry. Honestly, I can’t even blame her. The outfit is perfect. Tiny brown overalls, matching hat, a cream-colored shirt, and little boots. It almost makes me want to have a baby—not really, but maybe someday.
Meanwhile, Jude is very interested in our ongoing game of peekaboo. Every time I hide behind my hands and pop back out, he lets out huge belly laughs that make everyone else in the room smile too. I swear baby laughter could heal trauma.
“Isabella, are you in?” Sammy asks suddenly.
I glance up. “Hmm…I’ll have to double-check my very busy schedule, but I think I can make time for a pumpkin patch and cider donuts.”
Of course I’m being sarcastic. My schedule couldn’t be emptier.
She snorts. “Good. Oh, there’s also a parade, and the hockey team is part of it.”
I shrug casually, even though my stomach does an annoying little flip. “Sounds fun. I mean, I love everything about fall and Halloween. Speaking of which, have you gotten Jude’s Halloween costume yet?”
Her eyes light up instantly. That was the perfect way to shift the subject off the hockey team or any players. She took the bait, just as I expected.
“Yes!” she practically shouts. “We have a few costumes for different events.”
I grin to myself. This doesn’t surprise me at all.
“For Halloween we’re doing family costumes. Dane is thrilled, obviously,” she says, rolling her eyes before pausing for dramatic effect. “Wait until you see them. Jude will be Peter Pan, I’m Tinkerbell, and Dane is Captain Hook.”
My mom gasps. “I love it. So perfect.”
I clap my hands together. “Oh, this is going to be the greatest Halloween ever. Seeing my brother in a shirt with ruffles and a giant mustache? Honestly, I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”
“Dane already hates it,” Sammy says proudly.
“This is music to my ears,” I announce.
My mom is already typing furiously on her laptop. “I need costume ideas for William and me.” She glances up at me. “You can match us if you want, Isabella.”
I make a face. “I’m good. I support whatever you decide, but you and Dad are on your own.”
She just shrugs, already deep into her costume research.
It’s strange sitting here with them. It’s a new city but the same comfortable feeling. This is the first Halloween I’ve spent with my family in years. Normally I’m somewhere else—working, traveling, planning every second of my life down to the hour. But now? I have no set plan.
I look down at Jude, who’s gripping my finger with his little hand while blinking up at me with sleepy eyes. This isn’t how I expected the year to end. But maybe…it won’t be so bad after all.
“So,” I say, pulling out my phone and opening my calendar app, “what activities does baby Jude have on his very busy social schedule? Auntie Isabella needs to add everything immediately. I refuse to miss a single moment while I’m here.”
Sammy laughs. “Oh he’s booked and busy.”
“Perfect,” I say. “That’s exactly how I like my days.”
She starts listing things off while I type them in—community festival and parade, pumpkin patch, family dinner, Halloween market, a baby music class, and then further out Thanksgiving plans, Christmas lights downtown.
One by one, I add things to my calendar.
This feels right, more like me. I haven’t felt like this in weeks.
Of course, I still haven’t decided when I’m leaving.
Part of me keeps thinking I should go soon, get back to my real life and try to plan.
But another part of me is considering staying through the holidays.
That thought should probably scare me more than it does.
“We should add some hockey games to the itinerary too,” Sammy says casually, interrupting my thoughts.
I shake my head. “You’re hilarious. Have you been listening to your husband?”
She gives me a knowing look. “Maybe. But we should go again. The game was a lot of fun. Dane wants to get season tickets.”
I nod. “It was fun. But I’m following Jude’s schedule as of now.”
She smiles. “I don’t blame you.”
“I just found the perfect costumes,” my mom exclaims. “We will be Danny and Sandy from Grease. It’s perfect, William already has a black leather jacket.”
“Sounds fun, Mom,” I tell her.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Baby Jude starts to fuss, so Sammy gets up to prepare his bottle. I take him in my lap and start swaying back and forth. I can’t wait to be up and around on my feet again. And to dance with this sweet little baby.
I’m finally feeling hopeful again. Good things are happening—I can feel it.
Sammy returns with a bottle.
“I can feed him,” I tell her. “You deserve a break.”
She grins. “You’re the best auntie ever.”
“Yes I am.”
I can barely sit still. The nerves are taking over, and my palms are sweaty. I’m so worried about today, and I was restless all night. At one point I even had a dream that the crutches were attached to my body and I’d never be free of them.
“Isabella, it’ll be okay,” My mom assures me. Obviously, I’m doing a terrible job at hiding my feelings.
“What if it’s not healing?” I ask worriedly.
“It is. You’re young and healthy.”
I chew on my lower lip and nervously scroll through my phone, trying to distract myself. And then the nurse calls my name.
It’s go time—my appointment with Doctor Kemp, and hopefully he will tell me all is well and I can get on with my life and lose the crutches.
“Good luck,” Mom says.
I get up and move slowly through the door.
I feel like I’m moving through a fog as they take X-rays, run through the exam, and explain the latest update on my recovery. The whole appointment is a blur of medical terms and waiting for someone to tell me what comes next.
When the doctor finally says I can trade the crutches for a walking boot, a wave of relief rushes through me. I never thought I’d be excited about wearing an ugly gray boot, but after weeks of feeling dependent on those crutches, this feels like a huge step in the right direction.
It’s far from ideal. I’m not back to normal, and not even close to the dance floor. But at least I’m not stuck on the couch in front of the TV anymore. The boot is bulky and impossible to ignore, but it’s progress, and I’ll take it.