Chapter 8
“Okay, Kyle, you’re being discharged, but I need you to remember to continue with the regimen we’ve established.” Dr. Winthrop’s expression was serious. “No alcohol, no strenuous activity, no pain meds except what we’ve issued.” He glanced at the team’s doctor. “We’re in agreement, yes?”
“One hundred percent,” Doc Cheloff agreed. “It’s in our best interests if Kyle maintains his health as best he can.”
“Of course I will.” Even if the state of his heart remained questionable after Gen’s walkout four days ago.
Dad had been summoned back to the office two days ago, and Mom had gone with him, after it became clear that her tension was causing Kyle’s higher blood pressure.
He’d worded it delicately, of course. Kindly, so she didn’t take offense.
Let them know he appreciated their visit, but he’d be okay if they needed to leave.
And he’d definitely be okay if they’d leave so Mom wouldn’t harass Gen again.
His health was improving, after all. His main challenge now was loneliness. And sure, he’d had some visits from teammates and church friends, but Gen’s visit the other day had stirred his soul afresh, reminding him of what he’d once had then lost.
The doctor issued more instructions but Kyle barely noticed as his thoughts churned on about the one he’d let get away.
He hadn’t seen her since, but had wondered about her every minute.
Who was she with? What kind of man did she prefer? Why had she lied about it?
That was the thing he couldn’t get past. She’d always been so upfront with him. Lying was a side of her he’d never have expected.
But then both of them had changed. He’d found faith, in a move that had shocked his parents so much that they rarely talked about it.
Mom and Dad had always thought religion was for those who needed a crutch in life, and their years of success—and Kyle’s—meant all this talk about Jesus wasn’t for them, thank you very much.
Yet regrets continued to flare about how old-Kyle had let hormones get the better of him and taken his relationship with Gen to places he hadn’t expected.
Thank goodness she hadn’t gotten pregnant, as the two of them wouldn’t have known what to do.
He’d never have forgiven himself if he’d gotten her pregnant and she’d been unable to complete the medical studies she was obviously gifted and meant by God to do.
“So, that’s clear?”
“Um, sorry. You may have to repeat the last part again.”
“It’s okay, Doc. I’ll remind him,” Dr. Cheloff said. “We appreciate all your care these past few days.”
“Well, it’s always best to treat these things seriously.”
“Thanks Dr. Winthrop. I really appreciate it.” Kyle shook the man’s hand. “We’ll have some tickets available for you when you need. Just say the word.”
“I might just hold you to that.”
“Please do.”
He departed, and Doc Cheloff explained some more about taking care to rest in order to promote healing, to which Kyle nodded.
Then he left to look in on another patient of his, leaving Kyle to the care of a nurse and a team aide, Lee.
They helped as Kyle was shunted to a wheelchair, which felt like incredible overkill, but was the hospital’s policy nonetheless.
It took a few minutes to descend in the elevator to the ground floor, minutes where he hoped with every fiber of his being that he’d “accidentally” run into Gen again.
She hadn’t been back to see him since Monday.
And he hadn’t had the heart to ask Gerry to chase her again.
He felt too much like a loser already, knowing she preferred someone else to him, that he knew he would just look pathetic if he kept chasing.
Bumping into her accidentally would be a different thing. And yeah, he might’ve prayed that God would direct Kyle’s paths straight into meeting Gen again.
But it seemed like God’s answer was a no, as he was soon wheeled out into sunshine and fresh air.
“Okay, we’ve got a car for you, so hang tight for a few minutes and then I’ll come get you and we’ll get going, okay?” Lee said.
“Sure.” Kyle thanked the orderly who returned the wheelchair inside.
He sat on a nearby seat and savored the feel of fresh air, the scent of approaching rain, slouching in the chair as per instructions, his baseball cap pulled down.
He didn’t mind fans, but really would prefer to not meet them while he still looked like a cripple.
Already, thanks to his mostly liquid diet, he’d lost muscle tone, probably five to ten pounds.
His body was itching for a solid workout.
But that was exactly the kind of thing he was now forbidden to do.
He glanced around, then nearly had a heart malfunction when he noticed a certain person walking past.
“Gen?” he called, but the breeze stole his words away.
She kept walking, headphones on, focused, as she moved to the bus stop across the street.
Huh. She’d mentioned she took the bus, but he thought she must’ve been joking. Doctors didn’t catch the bus, did they? Although, apparently this one did.
He watched as she boarded the bus, taking a seat by the window. She looked out, and he lifted a hand, catching her widened eyes as she noticed him.
He smiled, and that might’ve been the slightest glimmer of her own smile but he didn’t have time to check as Lee drew near in a car, the window down.
“Are you able to walk here?”
“Sure.”
He propelled out of the seat and hurried to the car, instantly noticing a twinge as if his body had protested. The bus had stopped at a traffic light, and he eased into the passenger seat of Lee’s car.
“Okay, where to? Home?”
Was the bus taking Gen home? Would it be stalker-like to ask Lee to follow it? Probably.
Except, would it? Really? How could it be?
They were friends. Or they had been. And it would truly ease his mind to know she was okay, that she wasn’t living like she had in the past but was in a safe neighborhood.
But if she was to see him or find out that he’d followed her, that probably wouldn’t end well.
“Kyle?” Lee prompted.
“Sorry. Yeah, home. Thanks.”
Lee punched in Kyle’s address to his GPS, and as they sat in snarled traffic they chatted about recent games, including last night’s blowout win against San Jose—and veteran Northwest Ice Christian brothers Jai Mullins and Doug Lehtonen.
Seven zip. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. Great game for The Pirate”—Sam Gustaffsson’s nickname, thanks to his long unruly beard—“but you can’t help but feel for the Sharks still.”
“True.” In losing JT Oskar they’d lost their number one goalie. “It’s gonna take time for them to bounce back from losing a Vezina winner.”
“Right? That’s really gonna suck.”
It was sucky on so many levels. His heart panged. Imagine being JT’s widow, pregnant, knowing her child was gonna grow up fatherless.
Lee swore. “Sorry, I meant shoot. I should’ve asked before. Do you need groceries?”
“Um, probably. I hadn’t thought about that. I should’ve done an online order but it slipped my mind.”
“Tell me what you need for now and I’ll swing by the store. Then you could maybe do an online order tonight for anything you missed out. It’s a bit late in the day to expect to get anything delivered now.”
“Thanks Lee.”
Fifteen minutes later Lee had collected what Kyle needed and they were headed back to Kyle’s apartment. But roadwork meant the usual exit was closed and traffic had banked up again.
“I know a shortcut,” Lee promised.
“Sure.”
Lee veered off the freeway, and they were soon in a tangle of one-way streets in a neighborhood that was not like his at all.
The community here wasn’t exactly a ghetto, but it was obvious that the income bracket wasn’t high.
This soon passed into a suburb where the houses were set on separate plots at least, but still nothing like what he’d grown up on, let alone where he lived now.
“This shortcut seems to be taking a really long time,” he teased.
“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize there were quite so many one-way streets earlier.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like I need to hurry back for anything.”
A bus turned the corner, the same color and markings as earlier drawing his eye.
His heart picked up. Was that Gen’s bus?
He watched it slow, then sure enough, Gen descended the steps.
“Wait!”
Lee stomped on the brakes and the car jerked to a pause. “What’s wrong?”
He had to provide some reason for waiting. “I, uh, know that woman.”
“Yeah? Want to see if she needs a ride?”
That probably wouldn’t go down well. She’d be wondering what he was doing here, and yeah… same. “I just wanna make sure she gets home safe.”
“Yeah, this isn’t the neighborhood that I’d want any family members living in.”
True.
Maybe she didn’t live here. Maybe this was a visit to one of her own friends.
A car honked at them, and he realized Lee had parked partway on the road. “Hey, I don’t want you to get busted by the police.”
“I won’t. But maybe if you want to see your friend—oh, there she goes.”
She went into the garden of a nondescript brown-planked house, with brown shutters that looked like they’d last been painted in the seventies. His heart panged. Gen lived there?
The door opened and a little girl threw herself at Gen. His heart eased. Okay. It had to be a friend’s place, after all.
The thought that Gen would see him and think him a creeper tensed his gut. “Let’s go.”
“You don’t want to say hello?”
“No.”
For all he knew that girl was Gen’s boyfriend’s little girl.
And while part of him was dying to know what kind of guy Gen considered worthy of her affection when Kyle himself apparently wasn’t, another part of him knew she’d feel betrayed by what could only look like his following her from the hospital.
Which he hadn’t. It had been just sheer dumb luck.
“Hey, let’s go. I’m feeling tired.”
“Sure thing.”
Lee was good to keep his word, and Kyle averted his eyes as Lee’s car swept past the house, and soon they were pulling up at Kyle’s apartment.