by Donna Hill
“Listen, they all know you’re the best and they want the best for you. Everyone has been hanging around waiting for you to wake up so that they can tell you how much you mean to the team.” He cocked his head over his shoulder. “They’re out in the waiting room.”
She wiped her eyes. “I must look a mess.”
“Not at all,” he said softly.
“Tell me anything.” She tried to brush back her hair, which she usually wore in a ponytail. Her hair was her one attribute that made everyone take a second look. It was just beyond her shoulders, rich, black and smooth as satin. She owed it all to her great-grandmother who was a full-blooded Cherokee Indian. The American-Indian genes seemed to miss everyone else in her family but settled solidly in every fiber of Kelly’s being, from the high cheeks and dark piercing eyes to an incredible love for the outdoors and nature. But it hadn’t always been that way. She inhaled deeply and pushed the images away.
“Should I let them in?”
Kelly nodded slowly. “Is Stephanie out there?”
“Yes.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “She must be feeling pretty good. This couldn’t have worked out better for her if she’d planned it herself.”
“K, now is not the time to worry about Stephanie. She’ll always be number two. You know it, the team knows it and so do sports fans.”
She looked away.
“I’m gonna let them come in for a few minutes and then you get some rest.”
Slowly she nodded her head.
Kelly stared up at the off-white ceiling, contemplating her future. The sound of well wishes from her teammates still rang in her ears. She glanced down at her leg and her stomach muscles tensed. Would she ever be able to run again? Was her career, her life over?
She should have listened to her grandmother years ago when she told her that she needed more than “good hair” and speed to get through life. The only profession she’d ever had was that of an athlete. She’d never worked a real job and had no marketable skills. Sure she had a degree in Liberal Arts and that was about as valuable as a three-dollar bill. The only way she’d made it through high school and then college was because she could run. What would she do if she couldn’t run ever again? The question plagued her throughout the night as her dreams were filled with dismal visions of her watching from the sidelines as life sped past her and when her name was mentioned in sports circles, no one could remember who she was, and she reverted back to the girl who no one hated more than she did.
Chapter 3
“How are you feeling this morning, Kelly?” Dr. Graham asked as he checked the angle of her leg in traction.
“I’ve felt better, I suppose.” She tried to adjust her body in the bed to get more comfortable.
“Let me help you.” He came to the top of the bed and adjusted the pillows behind her then pressed the remote to raise the bed.
“Thanks.” She looked up at him. “How bad is it really?”
Dr. Graham exhaled a long breath before pulling up a chair next to the bed. “I’m going to be honest with you, Kelly. Brutally so.”
She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth.
“You have sustained what could be a permanent debilitating injury—for an athlete. The damage that has been done to that ankle will take months to recover from and that’s not taking rehab into account. And even with the best trainers, I don’t believe you will ever be able to run the way you once did.”
Her chest constricted. “You’re…saying my career is over?”
“Miracles happen every day, Kelly. You’re a tough young woman and other than a bad ankle you are in good physical condition. Much recovery from any injury, other than the physical, is the mental and emotional. How far you come from this will rely very heavily on you and genetics.”
She swallowed over the lump in her throat and slowly nodded her head. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“I understand you’ll be going to New York for your rehab.”
“Yes, David is working that all out.”
His cheeks flushed crimson.
Kelly craned her neck forward. “What are you not telling me?”
Dr. Graham looked away then directly into Kelly’s eyes, his thick white brows almost forming a single line. “I spoke to David months ago, the last time you were hurt.”
Intently looking at him she nodded her head.
“I told him then that you should not get back on the track, that he was sending you out too quickly. Your ankle was still weak. What happened yesterday was unfortunate but inevitable. My concern is the fragility of your bones. It is rare in someone so young.” He drew in a breath and stepped closer to her bed. He took her hand. “Kelly, your ankle is like a fragile branch that was set out of doors against the forces of nature much too soon. It didn’t get the time or the nurturing that it needed to be at full strength.” He clenched his jaw. “David knew this. But he let you go out there anyway.”
“It was just as much my fault. I wanted to be on the track. I needed to be out there.”
Dr. Graham sighed with resignation. He patted her hand. “Get some rest.” He turned to leave.
“How long do I have to stay here?” she asked, sounding like a lost child.
“At least a week. They want to be sure that your ankle is setting properly before sending you home.”
“When can I start rehab?”
“At least a month. I wouldn’t recommend it any earlier than that.” He headed for the door, stopped and turned around. “Kelly I would like to run some tests on you.”
“Tests? What kind of tests?”
“Some bone density tests and some blood work. I think—”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll get all that taken care of when I get to New York. I don’t want to have to stay here a minute longer than necessary.”
“Be sure that you do, for your own good. No matter what David says.” He looked at her for a long moment.
“I will.”
A month. She lay in the bed watching the activity of the hospital staff from her doorway. What would she do with herself for a whole month—incapacitated? Tests…there was no telling what the tests would show. Her secret was bound to get out.
She picked up the cup of water from the bedside table and hurled it across the room, barely missing David as he came through the door.
“Was that directed at me?” he asked stepping inside. He reached down and picked up the cup then came toward the bed.
Kelly folded her arms across her chest and looked away, not wanting David to see the tears of frustration that were burning her eyes.
Gently he touched her shoulder. “What is it, babe? Are you in pain?”
“I’m finished, David. Finished.” Her voice cracked. “Dr. Graham was just here. He told me everything. I may never run again, not even with rehab.” She banged her fist against the mattress. Tears seeped from her closed eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Christ, what am I going to do?”
He leaned down and gathered her in his arms. His heart knocked in his chest. The soft scent of her rushed to his head, the feel of her body in his arms went straight to his groin. Kelly had no idea of the power she had over him. But in all the years they’d worked together, she’d never once indicated an interest in him beyond his coaching ability. He’d watched her move in and out of relationships, each time nothing sticking, and was secretly pleased. His greatest hope was that one day they would consummate their long-standing relationship. He ached to discover what it would feel like to be inside that kind of physical power. For now he would satisfy himself with fleeting moments like this.
“Listen,” he said, speaking softly against her hair. “Dr. Graham sees a dark cloud in every rainbow. We’re going to get you the best treatment available and you’ll
be back on the track and you will be a champion. Have I ever let you down?”
She shook her head and sniffed hard.
“Exactly.” He smiled. He opened the nightstand and took a tissue from the hospital-issued box. “Here.”
She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Thanks,” she murmured. She looked at him. “I need you to be honest with me, David.”
“Of course.”
“If I can’t run again, what will I do?”
Her voice was so pained and the imploring expression in her eyes twisted David’s stomach.
“That’s not something you’re going to have to worry about for a very long time. I promise you.”
Chapter 4
David sat at his desk in the office he shared with the assistant coach, poring over the brochure he’d received that morning in the mail from New York. The rehabilitation center at New York University Hospital was one of the best in the country. It was expensive, but worth it. If Kelly were to have any chance of a full recovery he would do whatever was necessary.
A knock on his door took his attention from the information in front of him. He looked up. “Come in.” He slid the brochure into his desk drawer.
“Hey, Coach,” Stephanie Daniels said, stepping inside. “Mind if I close the door?”
He looked at her with skepticism. The last thing he needed was a harassment suit.
“You can leave it cracked.”
She didn’t look pleased but did as he asked. She crossed the room a bit too seductively for David’s taste and sat down in a chair on the opposite side of his desk. She crossed her long, bare legs, the micro shorts not leaving much to the imagination. They hugged the apex of her sex defining clearly what she held between her toned thighs. David looked away.
“What can I do for you?”
Stephanie leaned forward revealing a hint of cleavage from her V-cut tank top.
“I was just wondering how Kelly is doing.”
“She’s doing great. She should be released at the end of the week.”
“Really?” She toyed with the heart-shaped locket around her neck. “Seems a little soon. She must not be too bad…” She let her statement hang in the air.
David leaned back in his chair. “Kelly will be just fine and back before you know it.”
Stephanie twisted her lips and forced a smile. “That’s good to hear. Everyone will be glad to have her back.”
Everyone but you. “I’m sure.”
She stood slowly. “Well, I guess I’d better be going. I have practice in an hour.”
“Good.”
She hesitated. “Uh, David, not that I’m saying Kelly won’t be back…but what if she isn’t?”
He knew what she was hedging at. She wanted Kelly’s spot on the team and by all rights it should be hers. But if he admitted that now, he’d have to accept the fact that Kelly may not return. And that he was unwilling to do.
“She will. End of story.”
She puffed out her chest. “See you on the track.”
“Yeah.”
He watched her saunter out. Stephanie Daniels had skill; there was no question about that. But she didn’t have star power. Kelly was the whole package, skill and charisma. David had worked with Kelly for the past six years, seeing a champion in her. He’d created her from nothing—turning a shy, insecure girl into a woman who understood the meaning of winning at all costs, who could charm the media and inspire a team. She was his. His career was riding on a championship and Kelly was the key. But if he was forced to deal a new deck of cards to ensure a championship, then he would. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Chapter 5
“Let me get the door,” David said. He stepped around Kelly and opened the door to her garden apartment.
She inched her way in, awkwardly balancing on crutches, and looked around in awe. The small, very Afro-centrically designed space was filled with flowers. Her living room resembled a tropical hot house, bursting in a kaleidoscope of color.
She turned clumsily toward David, her face beaming in delight. “This is incredible.”
“From all the folks who love you.”
She moved gingerly into the room and pressed her face to the blossoms, testing one after another. “This is so nice.”
“And I’ll personally drop by every day to take care of them and you,” he added.
“You’ve done too much already. You haven’t missed a day at the hospital; you brought me home, getting me into rehab. I can’t ask you to come over here every day.”
“You’re not asking. I’m volunteering. I want to and I will.” He picked up her small overnight bag. “I’ll put this in your bedroom. Why don’t you sit down?”
She did as he asked and plopped down on the couch with her leg stretched out in front of her. She propped the crutches against the couch. The delight that she felt only moments ago on coming home slowly slipped away when she considered what she was up against in her current condition. At least in the hospital pretty much everything was done for her. Now she would have to get in and out of bed alone, maneuver through the house—and what about bathing? She sighed and rested her head against the cushions, just as the phone rang.
She reached for the phone on the end table.
“Hello?”
“Kelly Maxwell?”
The voice was totally unfamiliar.
“Who’s calling?”
“I’m a reporter from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution and I was hoping to speak to Ms. Maxwell.”
“She moved.” Kelly slammed down the phone just as David returned.
“Who was that?”
“Can you believe it? I haven’t been home five minutes and reporters are calling already!” She frowned. “How in the hell do they keep getting my number? I’ve changed it three times. Do you think they followed us from the hospital?”
David walked over to the window and peeked out. “I don’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. Which is more of a reason for you to get to New York and away from prying eyes.” He closed the blinds and joined her on the couch.
Kelly folded her hands on her lap. “You know what, David…”
“What?” He took a seat beside her and angled his body to the side.
“I’ve never done anything else but run.” She laughed lightly. “It seems as long as I can remember I was out in the air trying to slice through it. It paid my way through private high school, got me into college and the endorsements padded my bank account.” She turned and glanced at him for a moment. “I’m scared.”
“Why?” He reached out and stroked her hair.
“I’ve never even had a real meaningful relationship, never held a real job. If I’m not running it’s almost as if I’m not living. I have dreams of it all disappearing and me along with it. I never thought there would be a time when I’d even have to think about not flying through the wind, hearing the roar of the crowd. I know there is more to life than this. I’m just not sure what it is.”
“Kelly, you’re young, healthy and you have a long career in front of you.”
“Maybe. But I need to be realistic. I need to start thinking about alternatives.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If this therapy doesn’t work, I need to be prepared for that and I’ll need to prepare myself for the real world.”
“Hey, hey. What kind of talk is this? You’ve never been a pessimist. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll be back out there before you know it and coming into my office complaining that I work you too hard. Just like old times.” He chuckled and was relieved to see the slight smile brighten her face. “Now that’s better.”
“You always know what to say.”
Kelly grimaced. “Uh, the last time you fixed us something to eat we needed the Pepto-Bismol. How ’bout if we order something instead?”
“But I’ve been practicing,” he moaned, feigning hurt.
“Well, you just keep at it.”
“You wound me.” He placed his hand over his heart.
Kelly giggled. “Right. The menus are in the drawer next to the kitchen sink.”
“Fine. What do you have a taste for?” He headed for the kitchen.
“Pasta.”
“You got it.”
While David was gone Kelly wondered how long David would hang around if she couldn’t run again.
Chapter 6
When Kelly next opened her eyes, the room was submerged in darkness. She was soaking wet. Her heart raced. She felt exhausted. Were they still after her? Panic contracted the muscles in her stomach. She blinked, attempting to clear her head and her eyes. Had she gotten away?
She tried to sit up and felt the weight of the cast hold her in place. A thin streak of light filtered in through the partially opened blinds. Where was she? She looked wildly around and by degrees her pounding heart slowed. It was only a dream, she realized, a dream that had its genesis in reality, but a dream nonetheless. This was her bedroom in Atlanta, not the back woods of Mississippi, or the alleyways of Chicago’s South Side. She was safe here. Home.
Kelly reached for the bedside lamp and the room was bathed in a soft light. The antique shade in a bronze-colored velvet with its dangling clear crystals—a present from her grandmother—cast prismatic shapes against the winter-white walls.
Propped up against the lamp was a note. She picked it up and opened it, recognizing immediately David’s simple print. She stared at the paper and said each word aloud and slowly.
“‘Food in oven. Will call later.’”
She smiled. The always-thoughtful David. She slowly eased her legs over the side of the bed. She reached for her crutches and pushed until she was standing. She made her way into the kitchen and found a Pyrex dish in the oven filled with tender veal cutlet Parmesan and angel-hair pasta. Her stomach grumbled.
