28. Solomon #2
She’s quiet for a moment, her breathing evening out as the tears peter away. “I always feel like that with you,” she finally murmurs. “Like I can be exactly how I am.”
“I’m glad,” I say, voice thick. That old anxiety voice in the back of my head whispers to me, reminding me that I can’t really say the same, that I hide a shit ton of things from Cecelia.
From everyone. The realization brings something heavy to my chest but I force it down, trying to concentrate only on the girl in my arms.
I hold her until she falls asleep.
We arrive back at the university hospital before Devon, which I suppose is a good thing. It probably would have looked pretty suspicious if he was here first and saw me coming in with the Ransomes.
Dr. Patel, the team physician, called this morning to let Cecelia know he’d handed the scans over to the orthopedic surgeon who had done her surgery last year, and arranged for us to meet with her directly to go over the results.
I know that added more stress to Cecelia—something about meeting with the surgeon makes it feel more serious.
And I know she hates being back at the hospital where she had her surgery for a second time in as many days.
“Dad,” Cecelia says after we’ve been sitting in the reception area for a few minutes. “Stop fidgeting.”
Cash shoves his hands into his jeans, but a moment later, his leg starts bouncing. Cecelia looks at her mom and they both roll their eyes.
We don’t have to wait long. Devon arrives with the team doctor and begins introductions.
I can see Dr. Patel’s eyes widen when he’s introduced to Cash, and he stammers for a second about how it’s nice to meet him.
It makes me want to punch something. Cash Ransome is not the reason we’re here right now.
Luckily Dr. Patel gets it together pretty quickly and ushers us into the surgeon’s office.
“Cecelia,” the surgeon says, coming around her desk to shake hands.
“Hi Dr. Bass,” Cecelia says, and I can tell she’s trying to keep her voice even.
“It’s good to see you again.” Dr. Bass raises an eyebrow. “But I’d rather it be under different circumstances.
“You and me both,” she mutters.
The surgeon gives Cecelia’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s see what we’re working with, okay?”
Dr. Bass sits down behind her computer while the Ransomes take seats on the other side of her desk, the team physician hovering over the surgeon’s shoulder.
Devon and I stay leaning against the wall, out of the way.
From my vantage point I can see Cecelia playing with the Velcro on her brace.
She hasn’t said much since we got in the car to come to the hospital. She’s nervous and I hate it.
“Tell me about your pain levels last night,” the surgeon asks, clicking the mouse as she studies her screen.
“Fairly high.” Cecelia’s voice is flat, almost robotic. “Woke me up a few times. Ice and pain killers helped.”
“Mmm,” she murmurs vaguely, leaning toward the screen. “Any locking or catching in the joint?”
“No. But I wasn’t on it much.”
She nods. “That’s good.”
The mouse clicks a few more times. Dr. Bass makes some noncommittal noises, her eyes never leaving the screen. She points something out to Dr. Patel in a hushed murmur, and I can practically feel Cecelia’s tension ramping up. Cash is bouncing his knee again.
Finally, the surgeon turns away from the screen and smiles. “I’m not seeing any sign of a tear. Your ACL graft looks good.”
There’s a beat of silence. “Wait,” Cecelia finally squeaks. “You’re saying it’s okay?”
Dr. Bass nods. “I’d say we’re looking at an MCL sprain and some scar tissue irritation. Structurally, I’m not seeing a problem. You’re good.”
“See?” Devon exclaims, leaning over to squeeze Cecelia’s shoulders. “I told you it was going to be okay!”
Cash lets out a shaky laugh and Sam reaches over to grab her daughter’s hand. Cecelia just sits there, silent, probably more than a little shocked.
Relief crashes through me. She’s going to be able to play again. I hadn’t really let myself think about the alternative because it would have devastated her. Even thinking about it, of her losing something so important to her, of the heartbreak she would feel, was physically painful to me.
The team doctor and the surgeon are discussing recommendations for her recovery and I snap to attention, determined to be completely on top of this.
They want her off the field for at least two weeks—that’s going to be fun to enforce.
Devon meets my eye and grins ruefully, probably thinking the exact same thing.
But Cecelia remains mostly quiet as Devon, her parents, and the two doctors discuss her treatment. “All right then,” Dr. Patel says eventually. “Let’s get you back home so you can rest up. Ice, elevation, and compression tonight. And stay off it as much as possible. Understood?”
She nods, still mute.
“You can head out, too,” Devon says to me. “I’ll confer with the Dr. Patel and fill you in on the details. We’ll probably get her started with some pool workouts this week, keep her weight off it until the swelling goes down.”
“Right,” I say, preoccupied by Cecelia’s continued quiet.
“I think she’s in shock,” Devon murmurs to me as the Ransomes shake hands with the surgeon. “Not like her to be this subdued.”
“Probably,” I agree. “She was sure it was another tear.”
“Well, thank God it’s not,” he says, then turns to say goodbye to the Ransomes.
It’s hard not to take her hand once we’re back in the hallway outside the sports medicine office. No one is really around on a Sunday, but it’s still not a smart risk to take. Instead, I force myself to walk a few steps behind the Ransomes.
“Fuck, I’m glad you don’t have to have surgery,” Cash is saying. “Not sure I could survive that again.”
“You’re not sure you could survive it?” Cecelia asks drily. “You get that I’d be the one undergoing said surgery, right?”
“I don’t like when my kids are in the hospital,” he mutters.
“I think I’m the real winner here,” Sam says brightly.
“Because now I don’t have to deal with your father if you were in the hospital.
” Cecelia laughs, which I’m sure was Sam’s intent.
She’s been casting sidelong looks at her daughter since the doctor delivered the news.
I think she’s a little worried about how quiet she’s being.
“You stay here,” Cash says once we near the front entrance. “I’ll pull the car around.”
I assume Sam will wait with us but she looks between me and her daughter before nodding to herself and going to join her husband.
It’s a relief to be alone with Cecelia. I take the chance to reach out and run my hands down her arms. “You doing okay?”
She looks up at me and I can see how dazed she is. “Did he really say it was okay? I didn’t hallucinate that?”
I smile. “No, baby. You didn’t hallucinate.”
“I’m going to be okay?”
I take a step closer, no longer able to stand the forced distance between us.
All I’ve wanted to do since she walked into this building, so obviously scared, is to take care of her.
“I’m sure you’re going to drive me absolutely insane over the next few weeks refusing to do what you’re told, but other than that, everything is going to be okay. ”
She lets out a noise, part laugh, part sob, and then throws herself into my arms. I catch her, lifting her up off her feet, the crutches clattering to the wall behind us. “I think it just hit me,” she says into my ear, her breath hot against my neck. “I still get to play.”
“You still get to play,” I confirm.
“I don’t know what I would have done, Sol.” Her voice is shaky. “I don’t even know who I am without soccer.”
I squeeze her tighter. “I know who you are.”
She pulls back, looking up into my face, and I take the moment to study her expression. She looks both relieved and freaked out as she shakes her head. “I’m serious,” she says. “It’s been my whole life for so long.”
“That’s just not true. It’s been a huge part of your life, but it hasn’t been the whole thing. If you couldn’t play anymore, it would be a fucking tragedy, because I know how much you love it. But it wouldn’t change who you are.”
She doesn’t say anything, just looking at me with a bewildered expression, like she really doesn’t know.
I bring a hand up to cup her cheek. “You would still be you. Brave and loyal and kind and fierce and funny and all the other things that make everyone love you.”
I almost say it—that I love her, too. That I love her more than I ever thought I was capable of and it scares me to death. But I figure she has enough to be dealing with right now.
“It’s okay to make soccer your priority, but it is not your whole life.
You have your parents and your brothers and the Littles and the rest of your family.
” I shake my head. “You’re such a bright light, Cecelia.
And you’re stubborn as hell, so I know you’re going to make a beautiful life for yourself no matter what you do. Soccer or not.”
I can’t tell if she buys it, but she allows me to pull her back into a hug.
I don’t know how long we stand there like that, me holding her as her body trembles.
Eventually, I see Cash pull up to the glass front door over her shoulder and set her gently on her feet, kissing the top of her head.
I keep her hands on my shoulders for support as I reach over to pick up the crutches.
Sam gets out of the car and comes up to open the front door for us, so I can help Cecelia through. Just before we’re outside, she raises a hand to wave at someone behind me.
I turn my head, not thinking much of it, but my entire body seems to go cold as I see who’s standing there.
Devon is standing back by the entrance to the sports medicine center, in full view. And from the look on his face, I’m pretty sure he’s been there for a while.
He saw us.