Page 28 of The Game Changer

Jill

Three months later

“Hey, babe.” I lean down, kissing John as he sits on the couch. Walter is curled up on his lap purring away. Thankfully, the two of them have found a liking in one another since we started dating. I wasn’t so sure the first few times they were around one another as Walter can be picky about who he likes and dislikes. “How was your appointment?” I ask, scratching Walter’s head.

“No changes to the scans,” he answers, the aggravation noticeable in his voice. I knew he was stressed out about his checkup today and I offered to go with him, but he insisted that I didn’t need to.

“That’s good!”

“I guess.”

“What’s wrong, babe?” I ask, sitting down on the coffee table so I can face him.

“Don’t worry about it, just having a bad day and I don’t want to take it out on you,” he tells me. He cups my cheek, rubbing his thumb along my lips. I’ve noticed the last week or so he’s been a little more irritable. I have a small inkling that it has to do with the fact that the regular hockey season started back this week. Tonight is the home opener, one that we’re supposed to be leaving for soon.

“It’s bothering you that you aren’t getting ready to hit the ice tonight, isn’t it?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he admits, hanging his head down.

“John,” I say, linking my fingers with his and squeezing them to get his attention. I wait him out until he looks at me. “It’s okay to be mad, it’s okay to be hurting and upset that something that was your entire life has been taken away from you. All of those feelings are valid, and no one would think twice about you having them.” This is one of the reasons I really wish he’d find a counselor to go talk to. I think that they could help him through these kinds of days.

“I know, it still doesn’t change the fact that it fucking sucks I’m not at the rink right now, stretching in the back halls. Kicking a soccer ball around with the guys or getting stretched out by one of the trainers. That was my life for the last thirty years. I’m not just going to get over it in a matter of weeks,” he grits out. He’s getting pissed, but also trying to hold it back.

“I understand that,” I tell him, trying my damnedest to sympathize with him. I can’t even begin to understand what it’s like to go through a career-ending injury and to have your entire life change in the matter of seconds. “Did you still want to go to the game tonight?” I ask, not really knowing what would be best for him. To be in that environment and not being able to participate, or staying away but knowing that it is going on without him.”

“I think I’ll hate myself in the morning if I don’t go. My boys need my support. I also think it might help turn my shitty mood around if I can see and talk to them. Watch them kick Edmonton’s ass.”

“I think that’s a good choice,” I tell him, squeezing his hand once more. “I’m going to go change and then we can head out, sound good?” I ask him.

We have plans to meet up with Julia at the arena. John talked to the front office and got us passes for the family suite. He didn’t want to deal with fans recognizing him and causing a big scene when all he wants to do is watch the game. I think for tonight’s game, it’s probably the best plan. Going forward, I’m not sure what he’ll want to do.

“Sounds good,” he calls out to me as I head into my bedroom. I pull out the Eagles T-shirt that Julia got me awhile back, along with some jeans and a pair of flats. It’s October, after all, and I’ll be inside an ice rink. It might not be quite fall weather outside yet, but I’m so ready for it to be upon us.

“Damn, baby. That shirt looks good on you.” John whistles when I come out ten minutes later.

“Why, this old thing?” I say nonchalantly. “Just something I had in the back of my closet.”

“You look good. Only thing better would have been my jersey,” he tells me, pulling me in for a full hug. His arms wrap around my entire body as he engulfs me. Something shifted in his mood in the ten minutes I was changing and getting ready for tonight. I’m not sure if it’s the excitement that we’re headed to the rink and he’ll get to see his friends or what, but for now, I’ll take it.

“I can always wear your jersey later,” I tell him as I push up on my toes to kiss him.

“Yes,” he growls against my lips. “Tonight. In bed. You in nothing but my jersey,” he says, punctuating each statement with a kiss.

“Sounds like a plan,” I tell him as I lower back down to my normal height.

* * *

“JC! How’s it going, man?” the security guard at the side entrance we’re at asks John as he flashes our tickets to him.

“It’s going, how are you doing? How’s the wife?” he asks the older man.

“Been good, she’s doing okay. Dialysis has been tough on her these last couple of months.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, George. Give Gladys my love and I hope things get easier on her. Are they thinking a transplant will be an option?” he asks George, and I can tell he isn’t just saying something sympathetic to say it. He really means it and is curious.

“She’s on the list. We just have to wait for a donor to come along. Since we didn’t have any biological kids, and we don’t have many living relatives, the list of people to test wasn’t long. We can still hope for a living donor, but at this point, it is just luck if we find one before it’s too late.”

“I’m sorry that it hasn’t been an easy road,” he offers. “I hope that a donor is found sooner than later,” John tells the man before we fully pass through the door.

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