The Weight of the C
Chapter six
Annette
By Thursday morning, Captain Jamie Walker has become the least demanding patient on the orthopedic floor.
Which, according to every nurse I know...is suspicious. I step off the elevator as the day shift begins gathering around the nurses' station.
"Morning, Annette."
"Morning."
Keisha grins as she walks past. "I passed." I stop. "The certification exam?"
She nods proudly. "Ninety-one percent." I smile. "I never doubted you."
"You should tell Captain Walker that."
"Why?"
"He quizzed me on medication calculations yesterday."
I blink. "He what?"
"He said worrying wasn't helping me remember formulas."
She laughs. "Turns out he was right."
I finish entering Jamie's therapy notes before opening the latest imaging report.
Exactly what we'd hoped to see. The clavicle repair is stable. The lung continues expanding normally.
His oxygen levels have remained excellent all day. Even the swelling has begun to decrease.
I smile to myself. Medicine likes measurable victories.
Numbers.
Images.
Progress notes.
Healing that can be proven.
Marie wheels her cart past me, breaking my thoughts. Unexpectedly she looks at me and says: “I’m going to file a complaint…”
Confused, all I can respond with is: "Oh?"
"When your hockey captain goes home..."
She points toward Room 312 and continues. "...morale on this floor is going to drop."
Laughter ripples through the nurses' station. Even Dr. Whitaker looks up from his coffee.
"You know it's bad," he says, "when the housekeeping staff starts adopting patients."
I shake my head.
"I'll make a note in the chart." "'Patient causes emotional dependence among hospital employees.'"
Keisha laughs. "I'd sign that."
I can't help smiling. Only four days. Four days. That's all Jamie Walker has been here.
Yet somehow...everyone speaks about him the same way they speak about coworkers they've known for years.
It’s not because he's famous. Nobody here cares about the television interviews. Nobody asks for photographs. Nobody mentions statistics.
Instead...
Maria talks about the crossword puzzle he helped her finish.
Keisha talks about the confidence he gave her before her exam.
Jacky smiles because he remembers every name on the meal trays.
Somewhere along the way...
Captain Jamie Walker quietly disappeared. Now he's simply Jamie.
The realization follows me all the way down the hallway.
His door is half open.
I hear his voice before I see him.
"...and tell your wife if she keeps bringing homemade cookies to this floor, half the nurses are going to adopt you."
A man's laughter answers.
It’s Mr. Franklin, the retired school principal who is recovering from hip surgery across the hall.
"I'm serious."
Jamie smiles. "I've already eaten three."
"You've eaten one."
"Details."
I step into the doorway and Jamie looks up immediately.
"Morning."
"Good morning."
He glances toward Mr. Franklin. "I was losing an argument."
"I noticed."
Mr. Franklin points toward Jamie. "He cheats."
"I negotiate."
"Same thing."
Jamie looks genuinely offended. "I'd like that to be stricken from the record."
"I'll see what I can do," I say, setting my tablet on the counter.
Mr. Franklin chuckles all the way back toward his own room. The hallway grows quiet again.
Jamie watches him disappear before looking back at me.
"How's Keisha?"
I stop pulling off my stethoscope. "She passed."
His smile is immediate. "I knew she would."
"She said you helped her study."
"I asked questions."
"You quizzed her on medication calculations."
He shrugs. "Close enough."
I laugh softly. "You realize that's not a normal conversation for a patient."
"No?"
"No."
He thinks about it for a second. "Huh."
Then without another word, he reaches for his breakfast tray and before I can ask why...
he stands. Carefully. Lifts the tray. And starts toward the hallway.
"Jamie."
He glances back.
"I'm returning it."
"I can see that."
"It's on my way."
"There are people whose entire job is collecting breakfast trays."
"I know."
"So why are you carrying it?"
He looks at me as though the answer should be obvious, like DUH. "Because they're already busy."
For one ridiculous second...I don't know what to say.
He isn't trying to impress me. He honestly believes carrying his own tray makes someone else's morning easier.
"I'm sensing a pattern."
"You should."
He carefully sets the tray down. No triumph. No frustration. Just...breakfast. As he turns back toward his room, I glance sideways.
"Let me ask you something."
He smiles. "I've noticed that usually means I'm about to learn something."
"Maybe."
"Go ahead."
I hesitate, not because I'm unsure of the question, but because I'm still curious about the answer.
"Does it ever get tiring?"
He frowns. "What?"
"Always noticing everyone else."
He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he holds a door open so an elderly volunteer can wheel a flower cart through the hallway. She thanks him. He smiles.
Only after she's gone does he answer. "I guess I never really think about it."
"I have."
He looks at me.
I say quietly, “I’m still trying to remember whether I've ever seen your first question be about yourself."
His smile fades into something thoughtful.
I continue. "Every morning it's a whole list of people."
I meet his eyes. "You still never start with Jamie."
Again, he looks genuinely surprised, as though he'd never noticed…or remembered me asking before. "I don't?"
I shake my head. "Not once."
Silence settles between us. Not uncomfortable. Just honest. For the first time since I met Captain Jamie Walker, he doesn't seem to have an answer.
Just before lunch Coach steps inside carrying two coffees and five hockey sticks.
"I brought peace offerings."
Jamie looks up from the paperback he'd been pretending to read.
"You finally admitted hospital coffee is terrible?"
"I admitted yours is worse."
Coach hands one cup to Annette. She smiles in surprise. "Thank you."
"I figured if you're keeping my captain alive, the least I could do was upgrade your caffeine."
"I'll accept that arrangement."
Jamie eyes the second cup. “I notice there isn't one for me."
Coach doesn't even glance his way. "The orthopedic surgeon and I had a conversation."
"Traitor."
"Responsible adult."
"I liked you better five minutes ago."
"You'll survive."
Jamie smiles. "Probably."
Coach settles into the visitor's chair. “First, I brought you the sticks and some markers. I figure five should be enough from what you’ve told me.”
" And more importantly, I've got somebody who wants to see you."
He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. The connection flickers for a second, then Liam's face fills the entire display.
Too close.
Much too close. "Captain!"
Jamie laughs.
"You're aware FaceTime has a zoom function, right?"
"I wanted to make sure you could appreciate this."
Liam leans back dramatically.
Jamie's eyes immediately narrow.
"...Liam."
Liam looks down at himself innocently. "What?"
"What are you wearing?"
He smooths the front of the white practice jersey proudly stretched across his shoulders. The large, stitched C catches the camera perfectly.
"My promotion."
Jamie stares. "My captain's jersey?"
"Temporary custody."
Coach groans loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Mercer..."
Liam ignores him.
"Somebody has to keep the leadership warm while you're on injured reserve."
Toby's voice comes from somewhere off camera.
"Give him his jersey back."
"I'm emotionally attached."
"You've had it twelve hours."
"It was love at first sight."
Caleb finally appears beside him. Deadpan as always. "It looks better on Jamie."
Liam places one hand dramatically over the captain's crest. "I expected more support."
Coach pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Take."
"It."
"Off."
Liam sighs like the world has personally betrayed him. "You people hate symbolic leadership."
Jamie shakes his head, laughing carefully.
"My ribs officially blame you."
"Worth it."
"Not even a little."
Toby finally reaches across the screen and tugs the jersey over Liam's head. The picture shakes as Liam protests dramatically. "Mutiny!"
Coach folds his arms. "Justice."
The camera steadies again. Liam's hair now sticks in every direction.
He points accusingly at Toby. "I'll remember this."
"You won't."
"I probably won't."
Even Annette laughs. When Jamie catches the sound, he glances toward her. She quickly lowers her eyes back to the chart, pretending nothing happened. His smile lingers a second longer than it should. Only after the laughter settles does Jamie ask quietly,
"How's Ethan?"
The joking disappears almost instantly.
***
Before Jamie can ask another question, the screen fills with all four faces.
Liam, jersey-free, is naturally first to talk again. He leans so close to the camera that all Jamie can see is one green eye. "Captain..."
Jamie sighs. "Here we go."
"...you look terrible."
Without missing a beat, Jamie smiles. "Good to see you too."
Liam grins. "I was worried surgery might improve your personality."
"Disappointed?"
"Deeply."
The camera shifts. Caleb appears; arms folded across his chest. "You still alive?"
"Barely."
"Good."
Jamie laughs. "I missed you too."
"I know."
Classic Caleb. Three words. Maximum affection. Minimum effort.
The phone wobbles again as Toby reaches for it. "Move over."
Liam protests. "I was being charming."
"You were hogging the camera."
Toby finally wins the struggle. His smile fills the screen. "How're you feeling, Cap?"
Jamie shrugs carefully. "Better."
"You look better."
"I shaved."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
For a moment no one says anything. Nobody needs to. Sometimes just seeing familiar faces is enough.
Finally, Jamie leans a little closer. "How's Ethan?"
The four players glance at each other. Coach notices it too. Liam answers first. "He practiced today."
Jamie relaxes almost imperceptibly. "He okay?"
Toby nods. "Still carrying more guilt than anybody should."
Jamie looks down for a moment. "Tell him something for me."
"You got it."
"He didn't end my season." The room grows quiet. "I made that choice."