“Thank you so much for doing this,” I say, shaking Caden’s hand at the entrance to the hospital. “You’ll never know how much this means to me and my patient.”
“Happy to do it,” he says. “Especially as a favor to Mason Lawrence. He’s a great guy. He makes all pro athletes look bad with his portfolio of causes and foundations.”
“Yeah, I’m honored to have him as a friend.” I open the doors and escort him through. “I can’t believe you could do this on such short notice.”
“Our rain delay turned into a cancellation,” he says, gesturing to the storm outside. “So as luck would have it, my afternoon is free, thanks to mother nature.”
A few kids horsing around in the atrium see Caden and get all bug-eyed as they run over to us.
“Mr. Kessler, can I have your autograph?” one asks.
“Sure, slugger. What can I sign for you?” He points to the kid’s ball cap. “How about this?”
“Oh, yeah,” the boy says. “That would be sweet. Thanks.”
Caden scribbles his name on the kid’s hat and then turns to the other one. “How about you? Your shirt, maybe? Unless you think your mom will get mad.”
The boy, who is maybe twelve years old, looks over at a woman who then nods her head.
“Looks like Mom’s okay with it,” Caden says, kneeling down to sign the back of his shirt across one shoulder.
“James is gonna die,” the kid says. “He’ll never believe he missed this.”
I laugh as the boy tries to see the autograph without having to remove his shirt.
“Who is James?” Caden asks. “Your friend?”
“Our brother,” the small one says. “He got sick and is having surgery. App . . . uh, appendus . . .”
“Appendicitis, stupid,” the older one says.
Caden looks at them in thought. “Is James a Hawks fan?” he asks.
“Oh, yes. We all are,” the younger one says.
Caden takes off his own hat and writes ‘James – get well soon, Caden Kessler #8’ on the bill. He gives it to the smallest boy. “Give this to James when he wakes up, okay?”
“Wow,” the kid says in awe. “He gets your hat? He’s lucky.”
They thank Caden and run back to their mom who smiles over at us.
“Do you get that wherever you go?” I ask him as we walk away, thinking how my brother, Chad, has the same problem.
“Pretty much, but it’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m still getting used to it all.”
“How long have you been with the Nighthawks?” I ask. “Sorry, I don’t have much time to follow sports these days.”
“This is my first full season. They drafted me when I was a junior at UNC. I started with their single-A team in Tampa, and then I was lucky enough to skip right to triple-A out in Las Vegas where I played until they called me up late last summer. It’s been a wild ride.”
“Wow, you’ve moved around a lot,” I say.
“I go where they tell me. But I really like New York, so I hope they’ll let me stay.”
“Based on what I’ve seen, they’d be fools not to. You’re a great player.”
“Thanks. I’ve worked my whole life to get here,” he says.
I nod. “I know what you mean.”
We step into the elevators and I hit the button for the seventh floor. “Well, for being so new, you seem to have quite a following.” I nod back to the kids in the atrium. “And my patient, Elizabeth, she seems to know all about you. She won’t let any of the staff do procedures if you’re in a game or being featured on the highlights.”
He laughs. “I’m really just happy to do what I can. It’s surreal. It’s everything I dreamed of since I was a kid. The only thing missing is . . .”
He looks down at the elevator floor and blows out a breath.
“Is what?” I ask.
He shrugs. “People to share it with,” he says. “Family.”
“I guess with your sudden fame, you have to be careful, huh? But, hey, you’re way too young to consider settling down with a family. What are you, twenty-four?”
“Twenty-three,” he says.
The elevator dings and the doors open as we reach the seventh floor. I find myself getting excited knowing I’m about to blow Elizabeth’s mind when I walk in her room with Caden Kessler. I wonder what she’ll do.
I’m glad she’ll be lying in bed, otherwise she might faint. I can’t wait to see the look on her face. That smile that makes her eyes light up. That blush that reddens her cheeks and neck. Damn, I love making that woman happy.
Caden gets recognized by one of the nurses and we stop so he can say hello. I look down the hall into Elizabeth’s open doorway, my heart pounding with excitement.
I catch a glimpse of movement, her pink pajamas slowly moving past the doorway as she makes her way to the bathroom. She looks up and catches my eyes.
She smiles.
Caden laughs behind me and I start to turn around to see what’s so funny when I see Elizabeth’s face become filled with fear. She puts a hand on her belly and closes the door. Before I have a chance to process it, the call light for her room goes off at the nurses’ station.
Oh, shit. Maybe her water broke.
“Wait here,” I say to Caden, right before I race down the hall alongside Abby.
I burst into her room to find the bed empty. I walk to the bathroom. “Elizabeth!” I shout through the door. “Are you okay? What is it?”
I hear her faint sobs though the door.
“I . . . I don’t feel very good.”
“Are you bleeding? Did your water break?” My heart is pounding thinking of what is happening on the other side of this door. “Can we come in?”
“Who’s out there with you?” she asks.
“It’s just Abby and me,” I tell her. “What’s wrong?”
I hear the water turn on and then off. Then she cracks the door and looks out at us. “I’m not bleeding. But I don’t feel well. My stomach hurts. Maybe I ate something bad. I don’t know. But I’m sick. I think I need to lie down and sleep.”
“You need to come out and let us check you over, Elizabeth.” I turn to Abby. “Please go get the ultrasound machine.”
“Can you shut the door, please?” Elizabeth asks her, wiping the corner of her eye. “I look a mess. I don’t want anyone to see.”
“Of course,” Abby says on her way out.
“Come on.” I hold my hand out to her. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
As we pass the door, Elizabeth strains her head to look out the small window. God, if she only knew who was out there. Damn it. I can’t bring him in now, not with her feeling ill. And I can’t tell her about him being here either, it would only make her feel bad that he came all this way for nothing.
Abby comes back in with the ultrasound. We quickly do the sonogram and confirm the baby is okay and the placenta is intact. I take Elizabeth’s vitals, and although her heart rate is slightly elevated, everything seems normal.
I hook her back up to the fetal monitor and she lies on her side, pulling the sheet up to her chin.
“I just want to sleep,” she says. “Can you please turn off the lights and make sure nobody disturbs me for a while?”
“Yes. We can do that,” I say. “Lie on your left side. And have me paged if you feel any worse or if anything changes. Okay?”
She nods. Then she closes her eyes tightly like she’s wishing something away.
It kills me to think of her in pain. “Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?”
“I really just want to be alone and rest,” she says.
“I’ll check on you later then.”
As Abby and I walk back to the nurses’ station, I ask her to keep Caden’s visit a secret. I don’t want Elizabeth to get wind of it. Maybe I’ll be able to get him back another day.
“Caden, I’m sorry, the patient I invited you to see has gotten sick and can’t have visitors.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says. “Maybe I could send some stuff over instead. You know, a jersey, a couple of signed pictures. You said her name is Elizabeth, right?”
“Yes. That would be great, man. I’d really appreciate it.”
After he leaves, the nurses stand around and swoon over him. I roll my eyes. Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t get to see her. I sure as hell don’t want Elizabeth swooning over anyone.
Not unless that someone is me.