Hockey players almost always skated off by themselves. It was hammered into them at a young age that they better be absolutely dying if they stopped game play to be helped off the ice. This was especially true of JP. Even when he broke his jaw, he skated off by himself, holding his bloody mouth.
As the seconds ticked by, he stayed down. My breathing went ragged. My vision went blurry. He wasn’t getting up.Why wasn’t he getting up? What if he hit his head? His neck? Was he even conscious?
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a stretcher being loaded onto the ice, and my heart splattered to the floor. My legs practically gave out, forcing me to sit back down. I immediately covered my face. I wouldn’t watch this. Icouldn'twatch this.
“Breathe,” Mer whispered in my ear. “Focus on your breathing. You need to breathe for your babies,” she said in a calm voice while rubbing my back.
I wanted to cry out that I was trying, but it wasn’t working. Anxiety was cutting off my air supply, choking the life out of me.What if he wasn’t okay? I needed him. I loved him.
I loved him so damn much.
And I never even told him.
After what felt like a full hour, Mer started shaking my shoulder. “He’s up! He’s up!”
My eyes flew open to see JP propped up on one knee, using his stick to bear most of his weight. A team medic was standing in tennis shoes on the ice next to him, holding his jersey.
The crowd started clapping for JP as he glided off the ice. He was bent at the waist and holding his right shoulder, but I was just grateful he was conscious and not being stretchered off.
As the players filed off the ice for the zam between periods, Mer and I sat in silence, trying to regain our composure.
“Jeez, first Kappy, now JP,” Mer said, scratching her blotchy neck. “I just want this game to be over. Colt’s for sure going in the box for at least five minutes.” Her blue eyes widened. “Hereallywentafter the guy who tripped JP.” She sucked in a deep breath and whispered, “I can only hope for a game misconduct.”
I let out a shaky laugh. Only Mer would wish a game-misconduct on her husband so she’d be free from having to worry about him. She’d been like that since we were teenagers. I, on the other hand, used to cheer JP on in fights. The rougher the game the better. But either pregnancy or age changed me, because I now worried every time he skated even near the corners.
“You think JP will be out for the third period?” I asked.
She gave a hesitant nod, but she looked like she was hiding something.
“What aren’t you saying?”
She bit her lip nervously. “JP had a similar thing happen during playoffs. He didn’t stay down or anything, but he skated off holding his arm just like that. His shoulder popped out of the socket. He made Colt pop it back in for him in the locker room. But he seemed totally fine after that,” she added quickly. “Colt said it was just a freak thing. I yelled at them about it, and I told JP he should get checked out by a doctor, but you know how they are. JP promised he’d go in after the playoffs.” Her face pinched. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve hounded him about going in this summer, but he seemed fine, and we all kind of forgot.”
“No, it’s notyourfault,” I said quickly, and her face immediately relaxed. While I hoped it was as simple as popping his shoulder back in, I had a feeling it wasn’t. JP wouldn’t have stayed down on the ice like that if this was a simple problem. I just hoped he wasn’t in too much pain. My face creased. “Wait, how did Colt even know how to do that?”
She threw her hands up. “That’s what I said. I guess Colt did it for him once before when they were rookies. He said there’s YouTube videos for everything. At the time, JP was scared to tell anyone he was hurt because he didn’t want to get sent back down to the minors.”
My mouth gaped open. How had I had no clue his shoulder was hurting? Then again, that wasn’t entirely true. JP let it slip this summer that his shoulder was sore.
When players finally started stepping onto the ice for the third period, I practically held my breath as I watched them fly around the corners, but JP’s #26 jersey was missing.
As Colt rounded the boards for a light warm-up stretch, he madeeye-contact with Mer, and his face looked grave.
“You should go to him,” Mer announced.
“What? Go to JP? No, I can't.” I shook my head. “He won’t want me down there.”
“Yes, he will. You’ve had arm injuries, you can make him feel better about it,” she urged. “They might call you down anyway. I’m pretty sure Colt told me that JP changed his emergency contact to you. It used to be me because I’m at all the games, ya know? His dad’s still in Michigan and he’s a bit older, so it just made sense.” She rambled on, but my mind whirled with this new information. “I’m sure you’ll get a call from someone on the medical staff in a few minutes if it’s serious.”
I blanched. “If it’s serious?”
“No, I mean…” She was really scratching her neck now. “I’m sure he’s okay,” she tried to be reassuring. “He skated off on his own, so that’s a good sign.”
As the players ran through warm-up drills on the ice, Kappy and his co-anchor appeared on the jumbotron. While they discussed game points, I sat there debating what to do. I really wanted to go to JP, but I didn’t want to overstep. Then again, my anxiety was ratcheting up by the second.
“Okay, I’m going.” I stood on shaky legs. I had to see that he was okay with my own eyes. Mer was right—he did skate off on his own, but what if he hit his head? What if he had a concussion? I knew that feeling, and it wasn’t a good one.
“Good, he’ll want you there.” She gave me a reassuring nod. “Want me to come with you?”
