Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

Ollie frowned at her.

“Your body doesn't know that it was actually surgeons and not masked murderers that did this to you,” she explained. “You have to be patient. Give yourself a little time. You're going to get better and better as the weeks go on. I promise.”

Oliver was silent for a moment. Contemplative. “I'm just not used to feeling like this. I've always been able to push through. I've never spent one day on the injured list. This just isn't like me.”

“You're doing great, Ollie,” she said, feeling an urge to pull him in for a hug. She didn't, but she wanted to. “You're doing far better than any patient I've ever had. Honestly. You'll be up and running before you know it.”

Oliver lifted his gaze to meet hers. His clear blue eyes caused her feet to melt to the floor. She felt magnetized toward him, a pull which she forced herself to ignore. He was her patient. She picked up her clipboard and pretended to write something just to break the connection.

“If you say so, Doc,” he finally said with a sigh.

Elsie looked up and smiled and Ollie slowly returned the gesture. He was so obviously down about the whole thing. He put on a brave face, but she knew how scary an injury like this could be for an athlete. This jeopardized his whole world, and he was doing his best to smile through it. It broke her heart.

“I do say so,” she said, patting his knee gently. “I'd tell you if you were sucking. That's actually an important part of my job. I won't sugar coat anything. You can count on that.”

“You sound like Coach,” Ollie said, taking another swig of water.

Elsie chuckled. “I like your coach already.” She jotted a few notes down on her clipboard about the day's session. “Sounds like he and I think the same way.”

“Yeah, but he'd say it with an angry sneer,” he said, with a chuckle.

Elsie twisted her mouth and narrowed her eyes, looking up from her clipboard. With her voice lowered as much as possible, she growled, “You're doing a great job. Now hit the showers, kid!”

For the first time that day, Ollie let out a genuine laugh. He cracked up for a full minute, which put a smile on Elsie's face. Hearing him laugh was the best part of her day.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you do a better Coach than Coach does.” Ollie said, wiping tears of laughter from his cheek.

“You know, I do help coach little league in the fall for the local elementary school,” she said, beaming with pride. “That's probably where I picked it up.”

“What sport do you coach?” he asked, eyes widening and ears perking.

“Football, actually,” she replied, with a laugh. “I love it. There's nothing more satisfying, or hilarious, than watching 6-year-olds run around in those pads.”

“That's awesome. You probably know more about football than you've let on.” Ollie's eyes were still locked with Elsie's. “Who roped you into coaching kid's football, anyway?”

“My oldest sister,” Elsie admitted. “Her son is on the team and they needed a coach. It worked out great, though, because it gave me a chance to hang out with my little nephew.”

“So let me get this straight,” Ollie said, scooting to the edge of the table. “You coach football, yet you had never heard of me before we met last week?”

Elsie shrugged. “I like football a lot, I just don't have any time to watch it. I haven't been able to be a real fan since I took over the physical therapy clinic from my uncle. There's just too much work for me to do and not enough time to watch the games.”

“When was the last game you watched?” he asked. “Any from last season?”

“I wish,” she said, shaking her head. “You're going to laugh, but I haven't watched a professional game in three years. No, wait... four years.”

“You're kidding,” he said, eyes wide with surprise. “You haven't been to a game in four years?”

“Been? I've actually never been to a professional game,” she said, pushing her hair over her ear and biting her lower lip. “We don't have a professional football team in Iowa and I couldn't afford a ticket in grad school.”

“That would make it more difficult to go to a game,” Ollie admitted.

“I used to watch all the games on TV while I was growing up, and I loved going to college games,” Elsie explained. She leaned against the massage table across from Ollie and shrugged. “But once I graduated, I just couldn't find the time.”

“You've missed out on a lot of good games.” Ollie looked up at the ceiling, as though recalling great memories from his past. “I wish you had been able to keep up on the sport. It's come a long ways.”

“I hope to get back into sometime. I used to love my Sunday afternoons cheering at the screen. Maybe things will slow down for me one day,” she said. “But I promise, I'll watch a game once you're playing again.”

“I'd love for that to happen.” Ollie looked down at the ground, an expression of sadness written all over his face as he remembered what he was facing. “Let's hope I'm playing again and you can watch me next year.”