On Ice

OI Chapter 27

Taking a deep breath, I was truly happy that I’d had the forethought to put the toilet seat down and sit. My knees felt a little weak at the moment and I think if I’d been standing I would’ve gone down like a felled tree. Me, a daddy, it was a bit overwhelming to think about. My head was all over the place considering random thoughts and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest as it was suddenly pelted with a dozen conflicting emotions at once. Our entire exchange to this point was unexpected, something I couldn’t have prepared myself for. I’d thought I’d have more time to ready myself for this moment, go figure that Calla would find a way to take the rug out from underneath me.

I was at a lost for words. She said nothing and I was so afraid that I’d say the wrong thing. I knew she was afraid, but that didn’t give me the first inkling of what to say in response. At least, that was my number one frantic thought until I heard her sniffle. Then I decided that it didn’t really matter a damn bit what I thought or what I said. I didn’t want her to feel alone, I didn’t want her to be upset and if I didn’t have a goddamn game in Edmonton tomorrow I’d be on the first flight home to Washington. The baby thing wasn’t going to go away in the near future, but right now, Calla was banged up and from the sound of things, miserable.

“Hey,” I murmured, hoping that my voice was soothing, “Don’t cry baby, there’s nothing to cry about. I wish I could get on a plane and come home.”

This was horrible, I was fucking things up, and I just knew it! Usually talking with Calla wasn’t nearly this stressful, because I could see her facial expressions and read her body language; both gave me a bit of a leg up during our conversations. Sitting in the men’s room in Roast, a downtown Detroit steakhouse, talking with her over the phone while she was two thousand some miles away was not ideal. It was very different than I’d imagined this moment going and my imagination had been pretty fucking creative when I’d thought about it.

“Oh Kale,” she sobbed.

“It’s going to be alright,” I reassured her, “You don’t need to work yourself up, I told you I’m with you all the way. It’s just really frustrating that you’re in pain and I’m in fucking Detroit. I want to be there, fetching you ice packs and ibuprofen, heating you up soup because it’s the best food in the world when you feel awful.”

She whispered, “You do?”

I chuckled before telling her, “Yeah, I do. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to want to do when someone you love isn’t feeling well?”

Even over the phone I could sense her shy smile as said quietly, “I love you too!” I heard another sniffle before she continued, “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

“No ma’am, I’m not mad at you in the least. Right now, I think you’re pretty damn amazing,” I paused, “But I’d really appreciate it if you sat out of floor hockey from now on.”

It was such a relief to hear her laughter. Maybe I wasn’t screwing this up as badly as I’d originally thought. But now that I could breath again and it didn’t feel like my legs were about to give out on me at any second, I wanted more details about what had happened to bring this all about. I especially wanted to know how she’d gotten to the hospital. Surely she hadn’t walked? Jesus, please tell me they didn’t make her ride in the back of an ambulance? I immediately dismissed that thought out of hand, because I seriously doubt that she would be this together to talk to me if they had forced her into an ambulance.

“Ok, now go back and start at the beginning and work up to the point when I called you. There are some blanks there I’d really like you to fill, but first, are you really alright,” I asked of her.

“I have a bit of a headache,” she confessed, “And my side is throbbing, but nothing an ice pack and time won’t cure.”

She was such a trooper. Before I’d met Calla, I was pretty sure that most women in the world were whiners when it came to pain, even my mother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but she whines with regularity about hang nails. It’d always made me wonder how on earth she’d endured childbirth five times, thinking back on it now, I didn’t envy my dad. Calla was different though. I suppose she’d been taught how to manage pain by her dad, which made quite a difference. Sometimes it seemed to me that she sucked it all deep down and kept it there, unwilling to admit to herself that she had weaknesses.