Page 21 of Power Forward

I finish eating my omelet and put my empty plate on the coffee table. Then, I prop a cushion beneath my knee to elevate it slightly and settle back against the couch cushions. Although I sent Jackson a text this morning with a photo of the sunrise peeking out over the horizon, I take another photo of my view from the couch and send it.

Jackson

Damn, what a view. I would be out on that beach every day if I lived there.

It’s nice. I love falling asleep to the sound of the water, it’s so relaxing.

Jackson

I think I’d be relaxed all the time having the beach outside my back door.

Sometimes it is, but sometimes it can cause discomfort. Walking over soft sand with bad knees isn’t a fun experience.

Jackson

You still struggle after your ACL repair?

You could say that.

Jackson

Shit, I’m sorry. I had no idea.

I suck in a deep breath. Okay, here goes nothing.

It isn’t something I advertise, and the league surely didn’t want it to be known that their recommended specialist doctor did a number on me.

Jackson

Wait, what?

Ah, this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have over text. Can I call you?

Jackson

Give me ten minutes, I’m just leaving the rink. I’ll call you when I’m home.

My stomach swoops like a damn fun slide, and my palms start to sweat. I can do this, right? I can open up and give him a glimpse into what these last few years have been like for me without trauma dumping on him. He doesn’t need to know about the times I wanted to put an end to things once and for all. He doesn’t need to know about Roberta. But he can know about my struggles with osteoarthritis and how it’s a result of the game. Maybe it’ll give him a mini wake-up call not to ignore the signs and to seek treatment at the first sign of discomfort so he doesn’t end up like me.

Maybe it’ll be an olive branch into something I want more than anything.

A chance.

Unable to sit still while my body trembles with nerves, I get up and put my plate in the dishwasher before making another coffee to keep myself busy.

Why does ten minutes feel like ten hours when you’re waiting for a phone call?

Finally, my phone vibrates on the cushion as I sit back down. I take a deep breath and swipe my finger across the screen to accept, not wanting my excitement to show in my voice.

“Jackson, hey. How was practice?”

“Hey. Yeah, it was good. Coach has been trying a few new things to get ready for tonight, and I gotta say, it’s looking good.”

“That’s great to hear. I’m sure you’ll smoke Winnipeg into dust.” I swallow hard. “So, uh… What I mentioned in the text, it’s not common knowledge. As far as I’m aware, the guys I represent on the team don’t know, and neither does Peyton.”

So, in other words,please don’t tell anyone.

There’s a moment of silence, and I’m almost certain the call has disconnected until he speaks, and I can hear the sorrow in his tone.

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