Page 64 of The Flight Risk

“Nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Parker. Well, your suspicions are correct. Lottie does have acute appendicitis and I need to get her to an O.R. right away to perform an appendectomy. This is a very common procedure and it usually takes anywhere from one to two hours. I do need to go over all the risks, since it is surgery.”

I go into survival mode and try not to freak out when he lays out all things that could possibly go wrong in surgery. I clutch onto Lottie’s hand and rub her back with the other, attempting to keep her at ease while I’m internally freaking the fuck out. Tara should be here.

“Ms. Lewis.”

I snap out of my haze and focus on Dr. Parker. “Yes?”

“I asked if you had any questions.”

“No.” I look at Lottie. “Lottie, do you have any questions?”

She shakes her head and grimaces. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well please let me know if that changes. The nurses will be in shortly to prep you for surgery.” He turns to me. “Once we cross the red line to the operating rooms, I’m afraid you will have to go back to the waiting room until she goes to recovery.”

I nod, trying to hold all of my emotions together for Lottie. I can only imagine how afraid she is right now. The nurses come in shortly after that to prep Lottie and I feel like I’m in the way. “Lottie. I’m going to step out and try to call your mom again. If they take you to the operating room before I come back, I want you to know that I love you and you’re going to be okay. I’m not leaving this hospital without you. Do you hear me? I am not leaving.”

She just nods, but tears flood her eyes. She says softly, “Okay. Thank you Aunt Tess for being here and taking care of me and… I’m sorry for what I said.”

“No, don’t be sorry. You were right. About all of it.”

“Okay, Lottie,” a nurse says. “The O.R. is ready. We are going to take you back now, hon.”

I smile at Lottie. “It’s going to be okay.” I link my pinkie with hers. “I promise.”

Lottie just nods and is wheeled away past the red line. The doors shut and I finally let my own tears fall. I text Brooke to give her a quick breakdown of everything that happened and send her my location. The Storm have a game tonight and I know she wouldn’t be able to hear anything I say to her over the phone. Brooke is my lifeline and I’m needing one right now.

I call Tara one more time. No answer. The outgoing message on her voicemail starts again and all I can say is, “Lottie just went into surgery. It shouldn’t take long, but Tara… Lottie needs her mom. Please consider flying home to be here for her recovery. You need to choose her this time.” I hang up and lean my head on the hospital wall.

I’m flailing and kicking myself for choosing this. Choosing to be lonely. I know only one person who could soothe my worries right now.

I unlock my phone and tap on that very person’s face. I know it will go to voicemail, but I call anyway.

Once I hear the beep: “Oakley. It’s me…”

36

Sweat drips in my eyes. I’m fucking exhausted and am pissed at myself for allowing any goal in tonight, let alone the goal that tied the game right before overtime. I’m off my game and I can’t stop thinking about the one person who shifted my entire universe. Focus, Oakley. Focus.

There are a couple minutes left in the game. Two more minutes. Two more minutes. My eyes dart back and forth as I focus on the puck and that’s when I register that the most aggressive forward on Pittsburg is coming at me fast and doesn’t seem to be slowing down. The next thing I know, he is slamming into me, knocking me off my feet, flat on my back. Chaos starts behind the net and I’m so pissed that I’m on my back right now, all sense of my usual stoicism and level-headedness leaves my body. I get up and skate to where Lawson, Jageilski and Beckett are fighting members of the other team.

Without thinking it through, I zero in on the forward who decided to rush into me and head toward him without hesitation. I push him hard against the sideboards and he goes down immediately. The lineman blows his whistle but before he can give a clear ruling on what my punishment should be, the goalie from the other team heads over to join the chaos and removes his helmet and gloves.

Perfect. I need to let out my frustration anyway. Why not on this asshole?

I remove my own helmet and gloves and the other goalie swings first, clipping my jaw. I grab onto his jersey by his neck and he does the same to me. I begin swinging and I don’t stop. I feel my hand make contact with his face. His grasp on my jersey weakens and I grip harder. He swings and misses as I dodge everything he throws at me. I get a better grip on his jersey and I push him down onto the ice. I don’t let up and it takes a couple of linemen to break up the fight.

“Oakley. Stop! That’s enough!” One of the linemen says in my ear as he pushes me away from the other goalie, who is wiping off the dripping blood from his nose.

“Well then, call the damn penalty for fuck’s sake!” I never talk back to a lineman but I don’t give a shit. I can’t hear myself think. The crowd is so loud and it seems like everyone is banging on the sideboard glass. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a playoff game with how loud Southwest Arena is right now. It’s not every day the goalies give you a show. ESPN is going to have a hey day with this one. “Do your fucking job so I can do mine.”

The other goalie leaves the ice with his tail between his legs and I return to my place in the goal. I place my helmet and gloves back on. I try to numb the pain I feel in my jaw and my chest by focusing intensely on what’s in front of me. The game that never lets me down or leaves me.

Lawson comes up to me and says, “You good, man?”

“Fine. Go finish this game, Lawson.”

He does. We win 3-2.