Page 12 of Brooklynaire
“I solemnly swear I will not make Lauren reschedule anything else for the rest of theweek.”
“Theweek? Come on.” I drop my hand. “Ask my car to wait, okay? I’ll be in itsoon.”
“You’d better,” she threatens. Then she peers around me, sees that the coast is clear, and starts to take her leave, while I chuckle. She turns around just before she gets to a set of double doors. “Give Rebecca my love,” she says. And when I check her face, she gives me a knowingsmile.
I’m sobusted.
“Uh…”Fuck a duck. Lauren is on to me. But she’s pretty smart. I don’t know why Rebecca’s illness has broken my brain. But if Dr. Herberts can help her, maybe I can go back to being the normal amount ofdistracted.
Lauren backs toward the exit. “If Dr. Herberts clears Becca to come back to work, I want to be thefirstperson whoknows.”
“You will be,” I assureher.
“I’ll be on the first subway toManhattan.”
“I know youwill.”
“I hate you,” she calls as she turns to push through thedoors.
“No, youdon’t.”
She raises her middle finger over her shoulder, getting the last word. Of course she does. The women in my life are fierce. All of them. I’m a very luckyman.
As I leave the alcove, I’m greeted by a couple of hockey players who are on their way to lunch. Then I bypass the rink and the locker areas and head down the corridor housing the training staff offices. The team doctor’s office is at the end, and when I reach the door, it’s closed. A tap on the door silences the murmuring voices inside. “Come in,” the doctorsays.
When I open the door, both the doctor and Rebecca look up at me. Then Rebecca’s gaze drops to her hands, and I feel a wave of unease. Why does she look so tense? “Any news?” I ask into thesilence.
Dr. Herberts clears his throat. “Since Rebecca is not a hockey player, she enjoys doctor-patient privilege. I can’t discuss her case without her permission. And since you’re her boss, she might feel pressuredto…”
She looks up at him. “It’s okay. I don’t mind at all if Nate listensin.”
That’s enough of an invitation for me. I walk right in, closing the door behind me. I take the seat next to hers and wait for the doctor tospeak.
Dr. Herberts studies me for a moment, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “All right. Rebecca is still ailing. Her balance is off, and she’s troubled by noise. She’s easily tired, and physical exertion leaves hernauseated.”
Yikes. I risk a look at her, but she won’t meet my gaze. She isn’t acting like herself. Just the expression on her face makes me coldinside.
“That said, she’s passed every cognitive test. Her memory is sound. Her thinking is clear. She’s easily frustrated, but that may not be a clinical symptom, but rather a natural reaction to a distressing situation. In short, the presentation of her head injury is not like a classicconcussion.”
Jesus. “Then what isit?”
The doctor toys with his fountain pen for a moment before answering. “There’s a specialist I want her to see in Manhattan. He’s the guy to whom we send all the toughestcases.”
“Okay,” I say quickly, as if it were up to me. “Who isit?”
“Dr. Evan Armitage. He’s a neurologist who specializes in post-concussion and vestibular therapy. And he loves a good riddle. I’m certain he can figure out what’s troubling Rebecca. The only thing I don’t like about him is his packed schedule. Might be tricky to get anappointment.”
I have my phone out and I’m searching this doctor’s name before Dr. Herberts can finish thesentence.
“If Armitage can’t see you, there are a couple of other guys I can call. In the meantime, I’d like to see you getting more rest, young lady. It’s hard for the brain to recover without a whole lot ofrest.”
“All right,” she says quickly. “Are we done here for now? I’ll call Dr. Armitage thisafternoon.”
“We’re done any time you wish,” the doctor sayskindly.
Becca shoots to her feet. “Thank you very much for theconsult.”
“It’s my pleasure. Call me anytime. Day ornight.”
