Page 5 of Sporting Goods

“Thanks, but the last thing I need is a cocky toothless little boy. Plus I happen to like all his ligaments in place.”

“Could be what all this disinterest in baseball is, you know. Maybe he just needs to find out on his own that hockey isn’t for him.”

It isn’t.It will never be. But instead of arguing, I stayed on topic. “Fine, I’ll get him over there today. But please work with him.”

“Do my best.”

I hung up and peeked into Jax’s room, muttering a quick bribe to go to baseball.

“Want me to take him?” Sam offered, knowing I had a full night of referrals and prescriptions to submit.

It was more busy work than I imagined when I decided to become a sports medicine PA. As if the hours weren’t long enough working for one of NHL’s main orthopedists in the state of New York. I had to come home and complete paperwork as part of my job after Jax was out for the night.

And while he was awake, we’d both be too tired for much conversation and I always avoided getting too into it with him because every time I did, there were questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

Having Sam move in with us was a blessing. She’d been helping me with Jax for the past five years.

That’s when I needed to upgrade our apartment to a three bedroom. I paid the rent in full in exchange for all her help with my kid.

“Thanks, no, I’ll take him. I’ll sit in on this one too. Part of a little deal I made with him.”

“Okay. Well don’t stay up too late tonight.” She paused. “Things were better when you worked with the NHL.”

“Were they? I don’t even remember anymore.”

Technically I still did work for the NHL Orthopedists of Buffalo, but in their main medical office. No longer with the group of doctors that reported directly to the rink—working hands on with the team during practices and games. The hours were better then. Less than twenty a week and it paid more. But it wasn’t worth it. For so many reasons.

Many of which, my bestie Sam already knew.

“I don’t need to be around that,” I reminded her sternly.

“I know. But you could at least consider something like it. The hours here are killing you, Ray.”

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“And the pay was better.”

“Jax has everything he needs. We live well.”

“And you spend every penny making sure of it.”

“Sam, I want to pull Jax away from that world, not lure him into it.”

“You can’t assume he’ll be like his father.”

“Whatever this is—is it over?” I asked her with a wink.

“That line’s getting old.” She turned back to her coffee.

Jax came out of his room with his baseball bag. “Don’t forget your promise.”

I rolled my eyes at Sam when she tossed me a questioning glare. “I won’t.” I grabbed my keys and bag and followed him to the elevator.

The clinic was slammed Monday morning. How did fifteen people manage to have an injury in the past twenty-four hours in this small town?

“Rayne, how you doin’?” Dr. Jerry Mendez, one of my favorites on the team, and my direct boss, asked later that afternoon when I released my ninth patient and was about to take a quick break.

I managed a smile. “Is it five yet?”

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