“You’ve got hairline cracks in the knee cap and torn ligaments; you’ll need rest and physical therapy,” the doctor said. “But luckily for you, no surgery.”
“Well, there goes basketball season. I guess Thomas is getting one thing he wanted,” he said, then realized that if he wasn’t playing ball, he wasn’t going to get to see Maddie either. “What kind of physical therapy are we talking about? Where do I have to go to get it?”
“Oh, just the usual stuff, stretching, lifting weights, ice baths,” the doctor said, ticking each one off on his fingers. “You could do it right there at the school, you have an excellent training facility, but remember, three weeks and not a day less. We have to make this look real.”
Not as disappointed as he was before when a plan began to form in his mind, he smiled at the doctor. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a model patient,” he said. “I just need one little favor.”
***Maddie***
Watching for the snow and ice on the steps as she hurried into the administration building, Maddie paused for just a second to catch her breath before approaching the reception desk that blocked the path to the elevator. She’d never been in the imposing structure before, since only professors andthe higher administration were allowed inside, and it was impossible not to stare as she made her way to the big mahogany desk. When she approached; the older woman behind the desk swept her eyes over Maddie, taking in her ratty coat, banged-up backpack, and wrinkled her nose.
“Can I help you?” she asked, then pointed to a sign on the desk. “Students aren’t allowed in this building unless by invitation.”
It had already been a long day, and she was going to have to skip lunch again, but she took a deep breath and reminded herself that there were only a few weeks to go before winter break. “I’m Maddie Carter. Dr. Braithwright asked me to meet him here,” she said instead of shoving the sign down the woman’s throat. “He said that he’d make sure my name was on the list.”
The woman raked her eyes over Maddie again before letting out a little huff and turning to her computer. After a few seconds of typing, the woman turned back to her. “I’ll need to see some identification,” she said, holding out her hand. “Can’t be too careful these days.”
After staring at the woman for a few seconds, wondering if she was torturing her on purpose, Maddie dug through her backpack for her student identification card and handed it over, trying to control her temper. The woman took more time than necessary to study the picture, then handed it back. She turned back to the computer and typed a few lines before printing something out.
“Here, put this on, then go to the third floor,” the woman said, shoving a nametag at her. “You can leave your stuff at the coat check; backpacks aren’t allowed in the building.”
By the time she got off the elevator on the third floor, she was ready to scream with frustration, and almost did when she realized Dr. Braithwright was having lunch. “Oh, wonderful,Maddie, please have a seat,” he said when the hostess brought her over. “I’m sorry about the last-minute meeting. I know how busy you are, but maybe lunch will make up for dragging you all the way up here.”
Stunned, she sat down in the chair and then took the menu card the hostess handed her. “Can I bring you something to drink?” the woman asked. “Or would you like to wait for your server?”
“I’ll have a glass of iced tea,” Dr. Braithwright said, then looked over at her. “Don’t be shy, lunch is on me today.”
“Tea would be fine,” she said, managing a smile. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” the woman said before walking away.
“Now, isn’t this nice?” Dr. Braithwright said. “Much better than my stuffy old office.”
She had no idea what to say, knew that having lunch with him was highly unusual. “Yes, it is,” she finally said. “This is a beautiful dining room. I’ve always wanted a chance to see inside this old building.”
“Well, I’m glad I could make that happen,” he said, then looked up at the waitress who was approaching with their drinks. “The food here is excellent, you’ll be pleased no matter what you order.”
They placed their orders, and then silence fell over the table for a second. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you to lunch,” Dr. Braithwright finally said, pausing for a second. “I don’t want you to think for a moment that this is a bribe. I just wanted a quiet place to have this discussion, and since you’re not in trouble, I didn’t see why we couldn’t enjoy ourselves a little bit in the process.”
She relaxed a little, but couldn’t help still being a bit wary. “What is it you want to discuss?” she asked. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me somewhere.”
“Yes, I suppose so, I guess I should get right to the point,” he said. “We’ve had an unusual request from the athletic department. Apparently, one of their star basketball players suffered a significant knee injury and will be out for some time. He’s been prescribed an extensive physical therapy protocol and they’ve requested that we handle all of the rehabilitation here at the school. It’s my understanding that the player has asked for you specifically. I believe his name is Walker Price.”
“He didn’t…he wouldn’t have…” she stammered, trying to catch up with what was happening. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I heard you right…”
“It’s very simple, Ms. Carter, the athlete wants you to oversee his recovery,” Dr. Braithwright repeated. “I’ve tried to talk him out of it, but he insists, and since you’ve already passed your written exams, this could be considered your internship, allowing you to graduate early if you accept.”
She was too stunned to speak. “I’ve never worked with a patient on my own,” she finally said. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No, but Walker won’t listen to reason, he said you were the only person he could work with,” he said. “I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You won’t really be alone, and if you run into problems, I’ll only be a phone call away. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but this is important to the school; athletics sells tickets, tickets make money for the school.”
“I don’t think I can say no,” she finally said, then sighed. “When do I start?”
A big smile spread across the doctor’s face, .“Excellent, I knew you’d be willing to help,” he said. “You start right away, as of now, your only responsibility is Walker’s rehabilitation. The coaches want him back on the court in three weeks.”
CHAPTER 8
***WALKER***
