Page 65 of Pucking the Grump

“You think?” I shake my head before assuring Nancy. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him up again. I promise.”

She gives a firm nod. “Good. Someone needs to protect him from himself. The doctor will be by soon.” Wagging a final warning finger his way, she adds, “Stay put until then.”

“Will do,” Stone says with a sheepish wave as she departs. His hint of a smile fades instantly, however, as he shifts his focus back to me. “That was bad, huh? With your dad? I only heard parts of it, but it sounded bad.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “It wasn’t good.”

“He thinks I’m not the one for you,” he says, the lack of question in the word making me think he heard more than he’s letting on.

“He doesn’t know you,” I say, the sinking feeling in my stomach getting even worse. “I’m not even sure he knows me.” I sigh as I roll my eyes toward the ceiling. “Hell, and maybe I don’t know him.” I chew my lip for a beat before confessing in a softer voice, “I think I really hurt him, Stone. Like…a lot.”

“Sometimes the truth hurts,” he says. “Doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.”

I wince. “I know, but I was…harsh.”

He takes my hand. “You were real. Like I said, I heard parts.” I arch a challenging brow, and he confesses, “Okay, maybe I heard a lot of parts. And maybe those parts sounded very true and important.” He gives my fingers a squeeze. “But it’s also true and important that you both love each other. Maybe you need some help showing that in a way that works for both of you, but you’re still family. He’s your dad. You’re his baby girl.”

“But I’m not a child anymore,” I say weakly. “I can’t keep things the way they’ve always been. No matter how much I want to please him. Or at least, not hurt him.”

“You’ll always be his baby,” Stone says. “Take it from me. Barb will always be that tiny puppy a woman fished out of a gutter and took to the pound. And you will always be Coach’s little girl. But that doesn’t mean you can’t grow or change. You can and you should, I just… Don’t be afraid that he’s gone for good, Rem. He’s never going to give up on you. And you don’t have to give up on him.”

“Yeah?” I squeak, fighting tears again.

“Yeah.” Stone rubs a gentle thumb back and forth over my knuckles. “I think you two can work it out, I really do.”

Before I can respond, the doctor, a tall woman with jet black hair and a confident stride, swings in through the open door.

“Mr. Stone, good to see you awake! I’m Dr. Kadlec.” She moves to check the chart at the foot of the bed. “How’s the pain, on a scale of one to ten?”

“About a six,” Stone says. “Better than I expected, but I’m guessing that’s because you gave me the good drugs?”

“The best available,” the doctor confirms with a smile. “I wanted you to be able to get some sleep. Now, let’s talk about your knee.”

She walks us through the MRI results, explaining that while the injury is significant—a Grade 2 MCL sprain with some minor meniscus damage—it’s not as severe as they initially feared.

“With proper rehabilitation, you could be back on the ice in six to eight weeks,” she says, wrinkling her nose as she adds, “Maybe sooner, depending on your progress and pain levels, but I don’t want to make you any promises I can’t keep.”

Relief washes over Stone’s face, so strong I feel it echo through my chest. “So, I’m not out for good?”

“Not at all. This is a setback, but I predict a full recovery. And you’re clear to head home once you sign off on the paperwork. Nancy is going to bring you breakfast first, then we’ll get things finalized.” Dr. Kadlec turns to me. “Are you his caretaker? He’ll need supervision for at least the next few hours, until the big pain meds wear off and he can feel it when he’s pushing too hard. And I’ll be calling in a few prescriptions to be picked up or delivered.”

I nod. “Sure, I can handle all that. Just tell me what he needs, and I’ll take care of it.”

She walks us through the medication schedule, physical therapy referrals, and warning signs to watch for that would mean he needs to be seen again before his follow-up appointment.

By the time she finishes, Stone looks exhausted.

“Get some rest, and let her take care of you,” Dr. Kadlec tells him. “We’ll start the discharge paperwork now, but take as long as you need to get ready to go.” To me, she adds, “We’ll have a member of staff wheel him down to your car so you can just pull around to the patient pick up.”

“Thank you so much,” I say. “We appreciate the visit and the good news.”

After she leaves, I move back to the chair beside Stone’s bed. “I wonder what you’re getting for breakfast? Hospital food is always exciting.”

“Probably something nasty and light brown. Or white,” he says, sounding as tired as he looks. “I might take a little nap while I wait for it.”

“Go right ahead,” I say. “I’ll stand guard.”

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs. “You can go call your dad if you want. I promise I won’t get out of bed again.”

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