Brooke

 

After helping Logan out of the bathtub, he grabbed the towel from my hand and wrapped it around his waist. I helped to dry him off with another towel and then he changed into his fresh clothes while I waited outside the bathroom. When he opened the door, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Look at you. Freshly shaven and all nice and clean. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. So, I’m going to head into the kitchen and fix some dinner. You can come help me if you’d like.”

“Nah. I think I’ll go back to my room.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

“What are you making?”

“Chicken fettuccine Alfredo, and a salad.”

“Sounds good.”

While I headed towards the kitchen, Logan wheeled himself back to his bedroom. I couldn’t stop thinking about the connection I felt with him earlier. I had worked with many patients, young and old, but I had never felt such a strong bond with them. There was something about Logan that touched me and it was more than just his good looks.

As I was preparing dinner, I received a call from his brother, Brandon.

“Hello.”

“How’s it going? I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days and, to be honest, I miss my brother.”

“Things are going good. I got him out of bed, gave him a good shave, and he had a bath.”

“Huh? How did you manage that?”

“Long story. Just give me a little more time with him. He’s coming around. He’s no longer swearing at me or throwing things. We had a nice conversation. Oh, and he’s getting his haircut tomorrow before he gets his cast off.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you got him to do that. Thank you, Brooke. Owen and I want to be there when he gets his cast off tomorrow.”

“Not a good idea, Brandon.”

“Why not? You said he’s coming around.”

“Because I’m not sure how he’s going to react once he gets the cast off and finds that his leg is completely useless.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but we’re coming. We’re his family and we need to be there.”

“Fine. If you insist.” I sighed.

“By the way, will you be flying back to California for Christmas? If you are, you can just leave instructions for me and Owen and we’ll help him out until you get back.”

“That’s next week, isn’t it?”

“Yep. It’s sure coming fast.”

“I don’t know if I am or not. I’ll give my father a call and let you know.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After ending the call, I looked up and saw Logan wheeling himself into the kitchen. I smiled.

“Hey. Decided to help after all?”

“I want you to tell me what happened to you,” he spoke in a serious tone.

“I will tell you, but you have to cut up the tomatoes and cucumbers for the salad. Deal?”

He sighed. “Deal.” He wheeled himself over to the counter, but it was too high for him to comfortably reach. “I can’t do this. I can’t even fucking reach the counter,” he snapped in irritation.

“There’s no need to get all worked up over it. We have other options. One being that table right there.”

I took the cutting board, knife, tomatoes, and cucumbers and set them on the table.

“See. Now wheel your ass over here and start cutting. Rule number three: there are always alternatives to everything. If one way doesn’t work, another way will.”

“How many rules do you have?” He smirked.

“A lot. Now chop chop.”

“I will as soon as you tell me what happened to you.”

Walking back over to the counter, I picked up the knife and began cutting the lettuce for the salad.

“I took my first ice skating lesson when I was two years old.”

Immediately, Logan looked up at me. “You skate?”

“Yes. Now let me tell my story. Questions can come after.”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“My mom loved to ice skate. She said there was no feeling in the world like having your feet glide over the smoothness of the ice as if you were flying. Like I said, I took my first lesson when I was two. By the time I was four, I had a personal coach. I started competing at the age of five, and at the age of ten, I placed first in the U.S. Junior Championship. When I was thirteen, I took second place at the World Championships and when I was fourteen, I won the gold. My next stop was the U.S. Olympics. Winning that gold medal secured me a spot on the team. One night, my mom and I were on our way back to the hotel in Minneapolis after a competition. My dad had to leave the competition early to catch a flight to Texas for a business meeting he had the next morning. I remember stepping out into the snow and looking up as the flakes hit my face. The car service my dad hired was waiting for us and I remember my mom asking the driver if it was safe to drive. He assured her the roads were fine. As he was driving us to our hotel, he hit a patch of ice coming around a curve and the car spun out of control several times. As the car was spinning, a truck plowed into the side and pushed us into a guardrail. That’s all I remembered about the accident. When I woke up in the hospital, I was paralyzed from the waist down.”

“I’m sorry, Brooke.”

“Don’t be. Everything happens for a reason, right? If that wouldn’t have happened to me, I wouldn’t be enjoying the fine company of you.” I gave a small smile.

“How old were you when the accident happened?”

“Fourteen. It happened a few months after I won the gold and found out I was on the USA team.”

“What about your mom? Was she okay?”

“My mom died a week after the accident. She had a brain aneurysm that ruptured.”

“I’m really sorry.”

I tilted my head as I set the knife down. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Are you finished yet? Dinner’s just about ready.”

“Yeah.” The corners of his mouth curved into a sweet smile.

“Good. Wheel your ass over here.”

Taking down two plates and grabbing some silverware from the drawer, I set them down on his lap.

“You can set the table while I serve.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned his wheelchair around and wheeled back to the table.

“Rule number four: never ever in your entire existence call me ‘ma’am.’” I smiled.

“Right. Sorry. So are you going to finish your story?”

I placed the food on the table and took a seat across from him. “I’ll tell you more when the time is right.”

“Huh? Why not now?”

“Because I want to talk about you. Tell me all about what drove you to play hockey in the first place. I want to know what was inside you that was so strong that you followed your dream.”

****

Logan

“My dad took me to my very first Rangers game when I was six years old. I remember sitting there, mesmerized by the entire game. The way the players had so much power on the ice just fascinated me. Not only by the way they raced up and down it, but the power of the sticks they held in their hands. I wanted to feel that kind of power and the power of shooting that puck right into the net. The first time they scored a goal in the game, the crowd roared and I remember looking around at the spectators and seeing the smiles across their faces. From that day on, I made it my mission and life dedication to play in the NHL and become somebody. I wanted to be the one to put a smile on all those people’s faces. After that game, I told my mom and dad I wanted to learn how to skate. My brothers laughed at me and called me a pussy.” I chuckled. “I didn’t tell them at first I wanted to play hockey. I took it one step at a time and I learned to skate first. But my dad knew, and that Christmas, he bought me my first hockey stick. I joined a hockey league and it was full force from then on. After my mom died and my dad became a full-time alcoholic, playing hockey was a way for me to take out my anger. I took it out on the ice instead of people, with the exception of the players on the opposing team. If it wasn’t for my aunt and uncle, I’m not sure I would have made it. I hit some rough patches along the way, but they made sure I stayed on track.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your mom and I’m sorry about your dad. Did he drink much before she died?”

“An occasional beer here and there. She did everything for him and he couldn’t handle her being gone. My brothers and I tried to help him, but he didn’t want to be helped. Ironically, he stopped drinking a few months ago, started attending AA meetings, and is now dating his sponsor, Maggie.”

“Good for him. That’s a good thing, right?”

I shrugged. “I guess. He’s trying to be a dad again and Maggie is a nice woman. It’s good to see him sober, although I can’t forget the things he did and said over the past eighteen years.”

As Brooke and I ate our dinner and continued to talk, there was a knock at the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” she asked.

“No. Are you?”

She gave me a small grin as she got up from her seat. “No. But I’ll go see who it is.”

As I took another bite of my pasta, I froze when I heard Bruce’s voice.

“How are you doing, Logan?” he asked as he placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Living the dream, Bruce.” I spoke sarcastically. “What brings you by?”

Bruce dropping by worried me. I could tell by the tone in his voice that he wasn’t here with good news. He sighed as he took the seat across from me.

“Listen, Logan, the other companies decided it was in their best interest to drop you. I’m sorry. I tried my best. But with the doctors saying that you’ll never play hockey again and learning that Nike dropped you, they got real nervous real fast. You disappeared and no one has heard a word from you. You know they don’t like that shit.”

I clenched my fist as the anger brewed inside me and I felt my life slipping away from me.

“This is bullshit, Bruce!” I shouted. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t even have my cast off yet.”

“You need to listen to me very carefully, Logan. I spoke with Coach Gene and he didn’t have the balls to tell you this yet, but he’s giving you until the fall to recover. If you are still unable to play hockey by time the next season starts, he has no choice but to replace you. The pressure’s on him now.”

Brooke could sense the explosion that was about to emerge, so she got up from her chair and clasped my shoulders from behind.

“Aren’t you just the bearer of all bad news?” she spoke to Bruce.

“I’m sorry, but I have no choice.”

“You can tell your people that Logan will be back on the ice in the fall.”

Bruce arched his brow at me and then looked at Logan. “I’m happy that your girlfriend has so much faith in you.”

“I’m not his girlfriend. I’m his physical therapist and I’m the one who will help him get back on the ice.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was working with a physical therapist.”

“He starts physical therapy tomorrow and he will hold a press conference. Set it up and he’ll be there.”

Bruce got up from his seat and placed his hand on my arm. “I’ll call you with the day and time. It’s the right thing to do, Logan.”

The only thing I could do was give him a nod as I tightly clenched my fist. After he left, I looked at Brooke with anger.

“How the fuck could you tell him that I’ll be back on the ice? You don’t know that, and I’m not doing that press conference!” I yelled as I wheeled myself back to my bedroom.

“Because you will be back on the ice and the press conference is something you need to do. Not just for your fans and your team, but for yourself. I won’t stand by and let you destroy your career any further,” she yelled from the other room.

Climbing into bed, I was full of rage. Losing my endorsements confirmed my career was over regardless of what Brooke said. I was happy she had so much faith in me because I had zero. There was no way in hell that I would be able to play again. Brooke had too much confidence in me and I appreciated her for that, but it pissed me the hell off at the same time that she got my hopes up.