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“That’s so nice. I will let you know. I don’t see why I can’t come unless I’m on call.”
“How often do you have to do that?”
“About twice a month. But since I know far enough in advance, I might be able to get someone to cover for me.”
“I’d really like that. So now you have my number, you can get in touch.”
Sadie finished her business but spared them and didn’t leave anything behind.
“She’s so mannerly,” Wendy said, laughing. “Did you train her?”
“Nah, she’s just embarrassed. Come on, sweetheart, let’s go back.”
Prancing between them, Sadie just beamed.
“My dog is so happy.”
“She’s glad you’re back,” Oliver said.
“I think she likes you. Are you going to adopt another dog?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “We’ll recover from this and see what happens next.”
“If you want to dog sit for me, maybe that would help fill the void.”
“We’ll talk about it,” Oliver replied, smiling down at her.
She looked up at him. “How tall are you, anyway?”
“About six four, six five. What about you?”
“Five three on a tall day,” she said, laughing.
He tried not to stare at her figure, but she was exactly what he liked, not too skinny, thinking of slender Joanne with guilt. He imagined picking Wendy up in his arms, what her thighs felt like. Shuddering, he pulled it together. When he had time off, he’d try to see her again. They reached her car, and he stood aside as she got Sadie safely in the backseat.
“Well, thanks again for being so gracious about giving her up. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
“No problem,” he said, the words inadequate, but he didn’t know what else to say. “Don’t forget to get in touch when you want to go to a game.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.”
She gave him a little wave and walked around the front of her car. He watched her drive off, feeling empty and depressed. Asking her out wasn’t possible because he was still in a relationship with Joanne. Thinking of her opened up a whole new set of worries.
Then his phone beeped. It was Clare.
“So, how’s the new doggie?”
He told her the whole story; Clare, a dog lover from way back, commiserated, as he knew she would.
However, he didn’t tell her that he’d gotten hurt again. In spite of new state-of-the-art helmets, head injuries were still the number one concern for safety during the game. The last time he’d had a concussion, he was blocking. They fell to the ground, and the back of his head hit the turf. His family had seen this incident on TV and watched him get up off the field and walk to the sidelines for a time before he was allowed back into the game.
The next time it happened it was during practice. He was protecting the quarterback when a defensive lineman from the opposing practice team came at him with his helmet down, knocking Oliver out cold. Sixty-seven percent of concussions were caused by helmet-to-helmet contact, and it was definitely the worst yet. This injury wouldn’t be announced to the public.
“You got your bell rung, buddy,” the coach said, kneeling over him when he came to on the ground.
The coach and assistant coaches helped him get off the field to be evaluated by the team’s neurotrauma specialist, Tom Bennett, who did the standard neuro assessment.
“I don’t like the looks of your pupils,” Tom said, flashing a penlight in his eyes.
