Page 104 of Lucky 22

“So, you’re still playing.”

“Yes.”

I really want to punch something right now. I have so muchanger and frustration built up that I’ll have to look into a way to get it allout before I hurt someone.

Karate? Kickboxing?

I know there are studios all over the city for both. Maybe Ican look one up and see if I can join, or if I have to wait for a new class tobegin, or…

“Ella Rose?”

But first, this.

“I’m here.”

He chuckles. “I know you are, but you aren’t sayinganything.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything to say. You’re hurt.You’re still playing. And I’m worried. Same song, different verse.”

“The trainer assures me…”

“You know what? I can’t do this right now.” Guilt hits mehard, but maybe part of the problem is that I always cave and listen andbelieve and hope.

“What do you mean? Do you have to go?” he asks. There’s nohint of accusation, only trust and genuine concern that he’s keeping me fromsomething.

“No. I mean, I can’t do this—this conversation—again. Ican’t keep listening to you telling me you’re hurt and then saying how you’renot going to do anything about it.”

“But I am doing something. I’m doing the therapy. I’m beingcareful…”

“If you were being careful, you wouldn’t keep getting hurt.”

He’s quiet for a minute before I hear the sigh.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to get a second opinion. I want you to go to adoctor who is impartial and has nothing to do with baseball. I want you to hearit from a medical professional who isn’t being paid by the team. And I want tobe there to hear it, too.”

He’s quiet again before he finally agrees.

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Would you like me to look for a doctor, or do you want to?”

“I know you’re busy, so…”

“We’re both busy,” I assure him. “Neither of our jobs ismore important than the other. But if it’s okay with you, I think I’d like todo a little research and find a physician. There must be a back specialist inSt. Louis.”

“Okay.”

I don’t dare get my hopes up because going to the doctor andhearing results won’t guarantee anything. Even if he’s told he should neverplay baseball again, I’m not foolish enough to believe he’ll listen.

But if I’m there and have all the information and not thewatered-down version I know I’ve been getting, then maybe I can advocate betterfor him.

If he’ll let me.

With my current frame of mind, I’m not going to hold mybreath.

ChapterEighteen