Page 163 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

"I figured..."

I shrug.

"...if the world survived forty-five minutes..."

She smiles. "It'll survive another five."

Something warm settles between us. Not excitement. Not butterflies.

Something quieter. Like pride.

I think she feels it too.

"I've got another patient waiting."

"Yes, you do."

She hesitates. Then... "I'm really proud of you today, Jamie."

There it is again. Not because I lifted more weight. Not because my range of motion improved.

Because I drove.

Because I handed over my phone.

Because I trusted someone else to carry things for a little while.

I smile. "Thanks, Annette."

For a second neither of us moves. Neither of us seems in much of a hurry to end the conversation.

Finally, she nods toward the parking lot. "Go enjoy that truck."

I grin. "I was planning to."

She smiles. "Just remember..."

I wait.

"Recovery isn't about standing still. It's about learning how to move forward without running yourself into the ground again."

I laugh.

"I'll work on that."

"I know you will."

***

For the first time in months, it feels great to be driving myself.

The orthopedic surgeon cleared me last week, provided I keep the trips short and avoid driving when the shoulder is fatigued. Colby had looked almost disappointed when I told him I no longer needed a ride, though he covered it by saying he was tired of listening to my opinions about his music.

The next fourteen days are full: a sponsor dinner, youth hockey banquet, foundation committee meeting, a radio interview, two community appearances, and three team practices behind the bench.

Then of course, rehabilitation and follow-up imaging. Nothing looks unreasonable on its own. Together, they leave almost no empty space.

I open the sponsor dinner first. The event is important. They have supported the Blizzards for years, and I have attended every season since becoming captain.