Between the Pipes

Chapter 6

On Sunday morning, Sarah drove to the rink. All she had to do was watch Mike play. Easy. Piece of cake.

If only she could stop shaking. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Sweat ran down her back as she drove into the empty arena parking lot. The morning sun glinted off the glass at the front of the arena. What could go wrong on such a bright, cheerful day?

She shut off the engine and sat for a moment. She knew the fear was irrational and told herself to stop the circling thoughts in her head. At that moment, it didn't help.

Mike was probably fine, but if not, her decision could potentially have a major impact on his career. If that wasn't enough, she'd be making that decision through a haze of I-don't-want-to-be-here panic. No pressure.

She shook herself.

She could do this.

She gathered her bag and made her way inside. Her heart started to pound, and she wiped away the sweat on her forehead. Deep breath in. Slow breath out.

She had arranged to meet Mike in the trainer's room, rather than the clinic, so she wouldn't have to walk through the dressing room. With shaky legs, she gave a perfunctory knock on the door and went in. Mike was leaning against the edge of a desk, dressed in work-out gear and chatting with Ben.

The room was set up with four treatment tables. There was an open area for assessments and a few machines she didn't recognize. It looked similar to her clinic, and for the moment, she could forget that she was at a rink.

Ben popped up. "Hi, Sarah. I'll just step out so you can talk with Mike." He picked up a clipboard and headed out the door.

She raised her eyebrows at his hasty exit.

"Maybe he dislikes doctors as much as me," Mike said lazily.

Sarah snorted. "Uh-huh. Or he's respectful." Mike just smiled and shrugged. "How's the rib?"

"It's fine."

No change there. "Did you take anything for the pain?"

"Not today. Haven't needed to."

Sarah nodded. "Let's take a look."

Mike twisted and raised his shirt. A faint bruising outlined the injured area, but he didn't flinch when she brushed her fingers over it. Better.

Sarah pulled out her stethoscope and listened as Mike took deep easy breaths. He moved air well without splinting. She removed her stethoscope. "Sounds good. You think you could exert yourself without pain?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Okay, let's try it. Will you be on the ice the whole practice?"

"Yes. We start with team drills, then I'll work with the goalie coach. We'll finish with a scrimmage. Should be about fifty minutes on the ice."

That long? She suppressed a groan. "I'll talk to you after the practice."

"Great." Mike paused. "Thanks."

She nodded as he left the room.

Sarah dawdled, delaying the moment when she had to go to the rink on the pretence of updating Mike's chart. Then she meandered in the hallway and passed a mini Hall of Fame with display cases of plaques and trophies. A lot of Mike Wallace up there. When she heard the players on the ice, she knew she had to go in.

A feeling of foreboding started in the pit of her stomach. She walked in at the end of the rink and sat behind the high Plexiglas boards in the fourth row. Netting covered the area above her. She could do this, she told herself. Deep breath in. Slow breath out.