Chapter Eleven #4
His eyes opened a fraction, unfocused at first before slowly finding my face.
Confusion lingered there for several seconds.
I squeezed his hand gently.
Easy. Don't try to move.
He read the screen, then looked at his surroundings before his gaze settled on me again.
"...Hospital?"
You're at Providence Sacred Heart. They had to operate to repair the wound above your hip.
He frowned faintly, attempting to piece everything together before trying to move. The effort lasted less than a second. Pain tightened the muscles in his face and he let out a low groan before sinking back onto the pillow.
Don't move. The nurses can give you more pain medication.
He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing carefully until the worst of the pain eased.
When he opened them again, they found me immediately.
"...Game?"
Despite everything, I couldn't stop smiling.
The Red Cedars won. 4-3.
A tired smile touched his lips.
"Good."
I shook my head in amusement. Trust Mason to wake from surgery and worry about the final score before anything else.
***
Just after four o'clock in the morning, Mason's parents stepped into the bay.
Richard Brooks looked exhausted. His suit jacket hung over one arm, his tie had been loosened sometime during the flight from Florida, and several days' worth of worry seemed etched across his face.
Beside him stood Victoria Brooks, equally exhausted.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her face pale, and although she managed a small smile when she saw me, it trembled almost as much as her hands.
Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. He's just fallen back to sleep. He's sore and groggy but talking. The surgery went well and I'm sure the doctors will tell you more later this morning.
Mrs. Brooks closed her eyes briefly, emotion washing across her face and then she pulled me into her arms for a hug.
"Thank God."
Richard rested one hand on my shoulder.
"Thank you for staying with him."
I shook my head.
There was never anywhere else I was going to be. I could have told them I stayed because I love their son but I hadn't yet told Mason and he needed to know first.
Victoria's eyes softened.
Mason woke and managed a tired smile.
"You...made good time."
Victoria bent immediately to kiss his forehead.
"We caught the first flight available."
Richard squeezed Mason's shoulder carefully.
"You gave us one hell of a fright, son."
"I've...had better nights."
Even through the medication his attempt at humor remained intact.
A sharp stab of pain crossed his face almost immediately afterward and Victoria noticed it before anyone else.
"You're hurting."
"I'll live."
Richard gave him the same look Dad often gave stubborn players.
"Being stoic doesn't earn you bonus points."
"I wasn't..."
"You were."
A nurse appeared almost on cue.
"Pain level?"
Mason hesitated.
"Five."
Victoria immediately frowned.
"It's higher than that."
The nurse studied him knowingly.
"I suspected as much."
After adjusting Mason's medication and completing another set of observations, the nurse smiled reassuringly before moving on to the next patient.
Mr. and Mrs. Brooks, I'll stay here if you need anything.
Richard studied the screen.
"After all you've done for our son tonight, I think we're well past Mr. and Mrs. Brooks."
Victoria agreed.
"Please call us Richard and Victoria."
I looked from one to the other before nodding.
Thank you...Richard. Victoria.
Richard rested a hand briefly on my shoulder.
"That sounds much better."
Richard smiled warmly.
"We mean it, Jack."
***
Shortly after six o'clock, Dr. Caroline Juneau arrived with two residents and one of the ICU nurses.
She carried out a thorough neurological examination, checked Mason's pupils and reflexes, asked him a series of orientation questions, then carefully inspected the surgical dressing beneath the edge of the hospital gown before reviewing the overnight observations on the electronic chart.
"I'm happy with your progress," she said. "The concussion is behaving exactly as I'd expect, and your hip repair looks good. I'd like to keep you in the hospital for another couple of days, but I don't see any reason you can't leave intensive care this morning."
Richard let out a slow breath beside me.
"So he'll be moved upstairs?"
Dr. Juneau answered, "A private room has already been arranged."
Orderlies arrived a few minutes later with a transport bed while the nurse disconnected several monitors in preparation for the transfer.
As staff worked around Mason, Dr. Juneau caught my eye from where she stood off to the side.
"Jack."
I stepped closer.
She lowered her voice in an attempt to ensure no one else would hear.
"Have you given the thyroplasty we discussed any more thought? It's been months and Dr. Kershaw has been expecting you to make an appointment."
My body tensed and when I snapped my eyes to Mason, he gave me a strange look.
"Thyro...what?" Mason asked.
The question hung in the air but before I was forced to answer, one of the orderlies smiled apologetically.
"We're ready to move him."
The moment disappeared as the team transferred Mason carefully onto the transport bed.
I walked beside him all the way.
***
Less than twenty minutes after we'd settled Mason into his private room, a light knock sounded at the door.
I turned around to find Corey standing in the doorway, a backpack slung over one shoulder, exhaustion written across his face after traveling through the night from Florida.
For several long seconds he simply stared at Mason.
Then his eyes found mine and without a word, he stepped into the room.