Sweet Satisfaction

I looked at the physical therapist expectantly. “So, what do you think ?”

“I’d say it’s a miracle. I’ve never had a player recover from surgery so quickly.” He looked at my right hand in awe .

I balled it into a fist and wiggled each finger .

I grabbed a football from a basket in the corner and spun it in my hand. “Catch,” I called as I tossed it to him .

He bobbled the catch, but laughed. “You had surgery two and a half weeks ago ?”

I nodded. I didn’t want to draw attention to the timeline. The rapid recovery would sound better if it weren’t so damn rapid. But it was what I needed. I had three days until the next game, and I needed medical clearance and my starting spot back .

“So you ready to sign off on me?” I looked at him .

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll sign off. But the AFA needs your doctor’s signature too .”

“I know. Dr. Evans. I’ll get it by today.” The old man would want a few signed autographs for the family and maybe a few tickets to the game. But he would sign. My hand was practically back to a hundred percent. There was no reason to keep me out of the game .

“Keep up with those exercises I showed you .”

“No problem.” I had been keeping up with my running regimen and doing double duty on the physical therapy. I had pushed myself beyond the physical limits I had been told, but I proved them all wrong. My hand was ready for touchdown passes and spirals that would wow the crowd .

I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks,” I called out .

Once I got Dr. Evans’s signature, I could get back to practice, and Cosech could sit his ass on the bench where it belonged. The hospital was my next stop .

* * *

I tapped on the nurses’ station. “Hey, there.” I grinned .

The nurse behind the counter looked flustered when she recognized me. “Oh my God. Wes Blakefield .”

“Yep.” I leaned my elbows on the surface .

“Are you here to see Dr. Ashworth?” She raised her eyebrows with a knowing look. Lennon and I had made it in the headlines. According to the press, we were practically engaged. Amazing what dating the same woman for two weeks could do for the gossip reporters. They acted like I was a tamed lion. Hardly .

“Not this time. I need to see Dr. Evans about my paperwork.” Although I wouldn’t leave the hospital without seeing if Lennon was available. I knew she was in surgery most of the day .

“Of course. He is your doctor.” She typed something into the computer. “Looks like he’s in between patients. I’ll page him .”

I waited at the desk. A few seconds later, the white-haired man popped out of a lounge .

“There’s our quarterback!” He beamed .

“Yep. And I brought you a few things.” I held up a pair of tickets to Sunday’s game and a signed jersey. Just wanted to thank you .”

“That’s not…” He took the gifts. “Tickets? My wife will be pleased with me.” He laughed. “I hear you need some kind of paperwork for the AFA .”

“Yes. If you could sign off on that last set of documents, I’ll be waving to you from the field Sunday .”

He scratched the back of his head. “Maybe we should find an exam room.” He looked at the nurse .

“Oh, you can go in three.” She pointed .

I followed the man and waited to show him my miraculous recovery .

“Let’s take a look here.” He peered at my hand. “Can you make a fist ?”

I did as he asked .