Jude mumbled something and I was dying to hear it.
“Ok,” Webber said. “Alright, what do you need help with?”
Webber came into the kitchen standing next to me. He smiled, relaxed, and I had to hope that whatever they had talked about was a good thing. I gave a few things to Webber and Jude brought out a few drinks while I grilled the steaks, potatoes and finished making the toppings. The nights were slowly becoming cooler, and it was becoming my favorite time.
I fired up the grill, and I put the potatoes to cook first.
“Need help?” Jude asked, as he rolled up his sleeves.
“Nope, go sit back and relax,” I said, opening an avocado and taking the pit out to make guacamole.
“I can help.” He stood a little closer.
“I got it,” I said, kissing his forehead.
He turned pink.
“How was work?” Sam asked, pulling Jude towards a chair.
“Slow for once, we had only two calls,” Jude sighed. “We got a call out to the Bed and Breakfast. Someone ran into a tree and a branch fell onto a car. Then we had a false alarm at the school.”
“Damn kids still pulling fire alarms?” I said, looking over my shoulder.
“Actually, I heard it might have been a teacher,” Jude chuckled.
“A teacher?” Webber looked shocked.
“Shit, they probably needed a break,” I said, putting the avocado flesh into a bowl with salt, pepper and a little lime.
“Seriously, being a teacher seems hard,” Webber said. “I don’t know how they do it.”
“How’s PT?” Jude asked Webber.
He shrugged. “Fine.”
“Just fine?” I asked.
“Sam,” Jude said softly.
“This last surgery really messed up my range of motion,” Sam sighed. “I don't think I’ll ever get good use of my leg ever again. The PT has been hounding me to go skating, but I already know it’s going to be hard.”
“Aren’t you still eligible to play hockey?” I asked.
“Technically, but the moment they contact my PTs they’ll know I’m not going to be the player I once was,” he said, looking away from us. “I’m going to call Miles and tell him to remove me. I can’t see me getting any —”
“No, let's go to the rink before you decide that,” Jude said, interrupting him. “I’m sure Monroe has a rink. If not, maybe we can see if we can use the college rink.”
“Jude’s right,” I said, grabbing the steaks and putting them on the grill.
“I don’t think I can handle knowing skating will never be the same,” he said, his voice full of emotion.
I turned around and walked to him, grabbing his chin so he could look at me.
“Peaches, running from it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” I said, the words hitting a little too close to home. “We can go with you, but you have to give yourself some credit. You’ve come a long way and it’s only been a few months.”
“I know,” he murmured.
“Do you? The second surgery basically undid all of your progress and you're going to be stiff. Yeah, you're not going to have great range of motion because now you have more scar tissue, but that’s why we go to PT,” Jude said, moving his chair closer to Sam. “We just got to get you into hockey shape, that’s all, Sammy.”
