“Of course I came,” I said, rushing over to her.“Are you okay?”
Her mother had been texting Mr.Lindstrom updates from the treatment room, but I needed to hear it directly.
“It’s just a minor concussion,” she said.“A sprained shoulder.Some bruises.Nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious!You were unconscious!”
“Only briefly,” she said, like it was no big deal.
“How about you girls come back home with me and Lars?There’s plenty of space and I can keep an eye on you both.”
Mrs.Lindstrom said it like a question, but the steel in her tone made it clear that saying no was not an option.I was surprised the Lindstroms wanted me in their house after I’d injured their daughter.I said as much, making all three of them laugh.
“We would have way less respect for you if you didn’t play your best,” Mr.Lindstrom said.“Besides, it’s not your fault that my daughter can’t stay upright on her skates.”
It’s the kind of thing my father would have said, but he would have meant it as an insult.Toni’s dad said it with a smile, clearly joking.I could see where Toni got her sense of humor from.
She rolled her eyes at his teasing, then groaned.“Ugh, my head.”
“Let’s get you home.”
I sat in the backseat of an SUV with Toni as we made the forty minute drive to the family home on Lake Washington.It wasn’t actually that far, but even though it was ten o’clock at night, the traffic was backed up on the freeway.
A few minutes into the drive, Toni scooted as close as the seatbelt would allow and laid her head on my shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, kissing her head.“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”
“It’s not your fault.Accidents happen in hockey all the time.You know this.It’s a physical sport.”
Her words should have made me feel better, but all I could do was keep thinking about what would have happened if she’d been more seriously hurt.If I lost her.Despite the use of helmets and pads, traumatic brain injuries remained pretty commonplace in professional hockey.We’d all heard the stories of players whose lives were irreparably altered by a TBI.
I found her hand and twined her fingers with mine, holding her close to me the entire drive home.
When we got to the Lindstrom house Toni’s mother went into full Mom mode, making us herbal tea, insisting that we both have something to eat, and demanding that Toni take the medicine that they’d sent her home with.
I tried to help, but Mrs.Lindstrom refused, telling me I needed to stay close to Toni.Marta made us all steaming bowls of chicken soup, coupled with crusty bread and fruit.
“You need the electrolytes,” she said, pushing the fruit salad towards me.
After she was satisfied that we’d eaten enough she settled us in their guest room, told me to make myself at home, and left us alone.I helped Toni get undressed and into some sweats, then changed into the second pair Mrs.Linstrom had handed me.
“I would kill for a shower,” Toni said sleepily.“But I’d better wait for tomorrow.They said I might get dizzy.The last thing I want to do is spend another three hours at the ER.”
I was tempted to suggest we shower together, but that would likely lead to some other activities that were not on the approved concussion protocol list.
We took turns washing up and brushing our teeth, me keeping a close eye on Toni the whole time.She seemed a little loopy from the pain meds, and the gash on her cheek where she’d crashed into the glass was slowing being surrounded by a purple bruise, but otherwise she seemed fine.Thank God.
As I settled into bed next to her I told myself I was never going to compete against the woman I loved again.I just needed to figure out a way to make that happen.I was one of the top hockey players in the league, I had options, so as soon as Toni fell asleep, I pulled out my phone and started sending some emails.
Toni
Iwokeupwithapounding headache and an achy shoulder.I didn’t realize I’d made a sound until Yvonne shot upright from a dead sleep.
“Are you okay?”she demanded sleepily.
She’d woken me up every two hours last night, asking me cognitive questions like she was running a dementia study.If I hadn’t felt so miserable it would have been cute.I knew she felt bad about what happened, but it was an honest hit.I’d taken dozens of similar hits with no problem.This one just came at the wrong angle, or maybe my balance was off.
Either way, it wasn’t a big deal.My shoulder would heal and my headache would fade.And since it was the last game of the season, I’d have plenty of time to recover.I probably wouldn’t even need rehab.
