Chapter Five

Keely

It only takes seconds for your entire world to be flipped upside down.

Sitting in the waiting room, staring vacantly down at the colorful swirls of the hospital's carpet, I wait impatiently for someone to come out and update me on Reeve's prognosis.

I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of the tires screeching on the wet asphalt, the wail of the sirens in the distance as they head for us, the crunch of the metal and glass under my feet as I ran to Reeve, my blood-soaked knees from where Reeve pushed me and I skinned them.

I barely remember the ride in the ambulance to the hospital, holding Reeve's hand, trying to talk to him to keep him awake while the paramedics checked him out for all possible injuries.

I'm sure he suffered a concussion based on what he said the moment that I got to him waiting on the asphalt face up.

"Am I dead? Is this heaven?"

"No, Reeve, this isn't heaven. You're still in Seattle."

"Then go back and tell God that he made a mistake. You're too pretty to be my guardian angel. I don't deserve you."

"I'm not a guardian angel, Reeve. It's me, Keely."

"Doc?..."

"Yeah Reeve, it's me."

"Tell my mom I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I was just about to ask him why he wanted me to tell his mom he was sorry when I heard the loud shouting and running of people headed straight for us. Within seconds, Coach Bex was kneeling down next to me on my right and Seven to my left, with more than half the rest of the team circling us.

With a possible neck injury, none of us touched him, but we kept him awake until the ambulance came.

Now, sitting in the waiting room with Coach Bex leaning up against a vending machine, stirring his coffee with a thin straw as he stares off into space, lost in thought, and Sam Roberts deep in the back corner of the room on a call with the owner of the Hawkeyes, Phil Carlton. I can only hear whispered tones from their conversation, but what I can make out is Sam agreeing that Reeve has to get the best care available.

It didn't take long after Reeve and I arrived in the ambulance for dozens of Hawkeyes players to show up wanting an update on Reeve, but I didn't have any. The moment we got here, they raced him off for x-rays, CT scans, ultrasounds... anything and everything they could.

Since Reeve hadn't been admitted into a room yet, I was ushered to a waiting room where I found Coach Bex pacing the floor, fielding calls while Sam discussed who the surgeon operating on Reeve would be.

My heart sank at the idea of him needing surgery but I knew that he would need it based on the condition of his leg on our way to the hospital. Guilt filled me at the idea that Reeve protected me by pushing me out of the way, but there's nothing I could do to protect him from any of this.

It's been a couple of hours since Sam and Coach Bex advised all of Reeve's teammates to go home and get some rest for tomorrow night's game. They promised that they would keep everyone posted about Reeve's condition.

My brain is just now starting to process the stinging pain of my scraped-up knees from where I fell to the rough road. Sam asked me if I wanted a nurse to look at them after we were notified that Reeve was in surgery. I had forgotten all about my knees until he mentioned it.

When I declined, he told me that I was free to leave if I wanted and he would keep me updated, but when I told him I wanted to stay, he nodded and didn't ask again.

In my peripheral vision, I see a doctor in his navy-blue scrubs and surgeon's cap walking down the hall toward the waiting room.

The moment I jump to my feet, the movement catches Coach Bex and Sam's attention, and the two men head straight for the doctor, who has a clipboard dangling at his side and his eyes fixed on me--front and center of his vision.

We all practically lunge toward him, cutting the space between us, all of us anxious to hear Reeve's prognosis.

"Dr. Morgan. How did it go?" Sam asks, the three of us standing in a semi-circle around the doctor--me being the shortest by a long shot.

The Doctor turns his attention to Sam. The moment I hear him speak, I realize that he's younger than I thought he'd be because of the high accolades that I heard Sam tell Phil Carlton over the phone.

"We got lucky. I called all the specialists we know, and they all said the same thing, that Dr. Jaxson Morgan is one of the best sports injury surgeons on the entire West Coast, and he just so happens to be on-call at this hospital."

With so many other well-known doctors already knowing about a surgeon in Seattle, I figured he must be an older surgeon with a whole lifetime of experience.

"He did well in surgery. The tear to his meniscus was worse than I thought once I got in there. However, the operation was textbook. He's going to require extensive physical therapy if he wants a chance at play at the level he used to."

"Will he be able to play this season?" Bex asks, an eyebrow raised and his lips tight.

"That will be up to Reeve and how quickly he heals. My recommendation is to get a one-on-one physical therapist as soon as possible to work with him," Dr. Morgan says.

"But do you think if someone puts the time in with him, he still has a shot at getting back on the ice before the playoffs?" I jump in with my question.

I know what it's like to lose your chance at playing the sport you love. And to potentially lose out on playing for an entire season once you hit the big leagues... Well, I just can't imagine Reeve will take it well. I worked with a college player last year with this exact injury before I was let go. He screwed up his knee in a boating accident over the summer of his senior year but the hours he and I put in getting him back out on the field paid off. He just got signed to the NFL as a first-round pick. I know if given the chance, I could help Reeve.

Dr. Morgan's dark blue eyes settle on mine.

"This is Keely Woods. She was the one who was with Reeve when he got hit by the car. She witnessed the entire thing and rode with him to the hospital in the ambulance." Sam tells him.

"Your name is Keely?" he asks me.

I nod. "Yeah, that's right. Keely Woods."

It's the first time that I notice the dimple on the doctor's right cheek when his lips pull up into a soft smile.

"They told me that someone was with him when he got hit. Any chance you remember the license plate on the hit-and-run vehicle?" He asks but there's an almost familiarity in his eyes and a softness in his tone, unlike the down-to-business surgeon he was a minute ago when he came out to offer up the news about Reeve.

One of the police investigators has already shown up at the hospital to ask me all of his questions but I didn't have much to tell him.

"No," I say, wishing I had something to offer up. "I barely saw anything. Reeve pushed me out of the way and I fell to the ground. By the time I realized what was going on and looked back, the car had already sped away and Reeve was on the ground," I say, swallowing hard at the memory of not knowing if Reeve was going to be okay.

"Oakley's has video surveillance outside. It happened a couple of blocks away, but the car drove past the bar while fleeing the scene. Oakley Humphries' is turning the video surveillance over to the investigator for the case. We'll get them," Bex says, his jaw clenching.

My uncle called me to find out if he should come to the hospital to be with me but I told him to do what he could at the bar and that I would meet him back at the house once Reeve was out of surgery. He agreed.

"Did you sustain those injuries from the accident?" Dr. Morgan asks, pointing at something.

I look down to see the dried blood and ripped denim of my jeans where my knees hit the pavement.

"Yes... I mean, I'm fine. It's nothing like Reeve's injury," I say, waving him off.

"I can ask a nurse to clean you up if you--" Dr. Morgan starts.

"No! Thank you but no... There are people here who need more help than I do. I'll take care of it when I get home, but thank you."

I break eye contact with Dr. Morgan when it seems like he would like to go against my wishes and page a nurse over. When I look over at Sam, he seems to see that I'm hoping for a conversation change and he chimes in.

"When can we see Reeve?" Sam asks.

Sam's kept a cool and calm demeanor this entire time but now I can see that it's starting to shake a little. He wasn't there at the accident with Reeve like Bex and I were, and he barely got here before Reeve was wheeled into surgery. He's anxious to see Reeve and I can't blame him.o am I.

"He's in post-op recovery right now but as soon as he's awake and ready to take visitors, I'll have a nurse bring you back to see him."

"When can he go home?" Coach Bex asks.

"Due to his injury and the concussion, they'll want to keep him today and overnight for observation, but there are no active concerns."

I wish he were going to get to go today, but I can feel the relief felt between us, three, standing side by side.

He's going to be okay, and he will get home soon.

"If there aren't any more questions, I have another patient I need to check in on," Dr. Morgan says.

"No, that's it. Thank you for all you've done," Sam says.

"We appreciate it," Coach Bex says.

Sam and Bex both reach out, shaking the doctor's hand and then Dr. Morgan's eyes shift to me.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Keely," he says, that look of familiarity in them again, like somehow, he knows me... or of me. Maybe we met in college? But he doesn't look familiar to me at all, and I'm sure I wouldn't forget a tall, handsome pre-med student. Plus, he must have graduated years before me for him to have the position he does at the hospital.

"Please excuse me for asking.., but have we met outside of this hospital before?" I feel a little silly for asking in front of Sam and Coach Bex but it will bug me for weeks, possibly even years if I don't ask where he knows me from.

"Not yet, but we will soon. See you around, Keely."

He gives me a playful smirk before turning around and heading back down the hallway in which he came.

"Not yet but we will..."

What?

Bex turns to Sam, with me standing in the middle before Dr. Morgan is even out of earshot.

"He needs a PT before he even gets home," he tells Sam.

"I agree. Phil says that we have access to whatever funds we need to get Reeve back up and playing. We can pay for the best," Sam says.

Bex's hands pinch at his hips. "We need someone who will work with him daily and get him back on the ice."

Then Sam's eyes turn toward me. "Keely, do you still want the job with the Hawkeyes?"

"Yes, absolutely I do," I tell him, wide-eyed at his question.

"It's obvious you care about Reeve since you're still here. And right now, he could use your skills. How do you feel about being his PT and working with Reeve to get him back in shape? If you can get him back into shape well enough to get cleared for practice before the job opening for the PT position with the Hawkeyes', then the position is yours."

I can barely believe what I'm hearing.

Not only is he giving me the chance to work with Reeve, but he's also offering me a job if I can pull this off and get Reeve healthy enough to practice with the team.

I want this.

I want to show Sam that I'm ready for the position as a PT, and I owe this to Reeve.

If he hadn't pushed me out of the way, it might have been me in post-op instead of him.

"I'll do it. When do I start?" I ask.

"Right now."