Play the Man Page 8

  Chapter 8

  Despite their newly found propensity toward fighting, Jenna and Ryan kept up the appearance of being a loving couple. After all, it wasn’t like they just stopped loving each other; they just couldn’t stand each other sometimes. Jenna told Ryan that he needed to figure out his part of the guest list, and when he finished that, they could move forward with the wedding. And that was the last time she brought it up again. Sure, she was passive-aggressive and left little reminders around the house, like issues of Modern Bride and mock-up invitations, just to make sure that he wouldn’t forget. However, that didn’t mean he actually got around to fulfilling his promise and doing it.

  Jenna stopped nagging him completely on this topic. Just like it didn’t help when she nagged him about his disgusting habit of not cleaning the sink after he shaved, constantly reminding him of his groomly duties wasn’t going to spur him into taking care of them. She didn’t know what else to do; she felt justified in thinking that he should do his share of the work, especially when it was something she thought he should be able to handle.

  Of course she was anxious about getting the rest of the planning under way, but she could only fight one battle at a time. And after the guest list was set in stone, she was sure there would be plenty more to argue over. What bothered Jenna most of all was that they had never fought like this before. Every time they had argued previously, they had maybe raised their voices and let slip a couple curse words here and there. They clashed before, but they never out-and-out got into it like they did over this. Weddings were stressful, and she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But she never expected it to be this bad. Once the wedding was over, Jenna knew the fighting would go back to its usual frequency and intensity, which was not very often and tame. They just had to get past the wedding first. They had to be able to get to the altar.

  Several people had each independently brought it up to them, privately of course, that if planning the wedding was causing so many problems between them, then maybe marriage wasn’t right for them. Neither Jenna nor Ryan felt that this was a solution to their problem. Maybe if they had told each other that they still wanted to get married, despite the stress it was causing them, they would have been able to reach an understanding. They both definitely wanted to go through with it still; Jenna just felt that Ryan should be more involved, take an active role in the planning, and care about it, while Ryan just felt that Jenna needed to take a major dose of a chill pill and take it a little less seriously.

  They arrived at the United Center before what was supposed to be just another game in November—albeit a game against the Detroit Red Wings, who happened to be the Blackhawk’s fiercest Central Division rivals. Jenna gave Ryan her usual spiel about scoring goals and not getting injured. He replied just like always and promised to do his best. “I’m serious, Ryan,” Jenna added. The games this season, across the NHL, had been increasingly violent and devastating, and players were starting to drop like flies.

  “I know, babe. Don’t worry. You’ll still get me down the aisle even if you have to wheelchair me.”

  “That’s not funny, Ryan. Not at all,” she growled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. “If you want to make a mockery of getting married, that’s one thing. But getting injured? That’s nothing to joke about.”

  “Okay, calm down. I’m sorry,” he apologized, rubbing her upper arm and kissing her forehead. “You know that I don’t ever try to get hurt.”

  Jenna nodded, remembering when he hurt his knee the previous season. It wasn’t fun, for either of them. “I know. Go have a good game,” she sighed, watching as he headed off toward the dressing room, and then turning around and promptly running into someone. “Nicky! You scared me!”

  “Sorry,” he replied, blushing. He didn’t mean to sneak up on her; in fact, he had tried to discreetly go around her so she wouldn’t notice his presence at all. Nick most definitely wanted to see her and talk to her, but he knew that he had to avoid her as much as possible. Not only for Ryan’s sake, but for his own. He was only hurting himself by allowing himself to be distracted by her. Except he wasn’t allowing himself to be distracted. He wanted to forget her, but he just couldn’t. He was starting to hate himself for not having the gumption and strength to overcome his stupid, petty, grade-nine crush.

  “I haven’t seen you in, like, two weeks. How are you?” she asked, not noticing how desperate he was to leave and get away from her.

  He shrugged. “Fine. You know, the same.”

  “Are you okay, Nicky?” Jenna tilted her head to the side and tried to peer past the façade he had built up to purposely keep her out. All his years of hard work and dedication would be going to waste if he let her sabotage him. He couldn’t let that happen.

  Nick might not have been able to control the uncontrollable, to rein in his emotions, but he could manipulate the situations in which he put himself. And as long as he could stay away from her and avoid her completely, he could eventually rid himself of this love sickness. “I’m fine,” he replied gruffly.

  “Well, all right. I’m probably keeping you from your ‘routine,’ so I’ll leave you alone. Have a good game,” she said with a smile, nonchalantly touching his arm and walking away toward the stands.

  Everyone was on their feet. And not just in the family and friends section, either. Everyone in the United Center was out of their seats, feeling angry and concerned and maybe even scared. At least, everyone in the family and friends section was scared—including Jenna and Cara, Brian Cavanaugh’s girlfriend. It didn’t matter who on the team got hit, because everyone in that section knew what it was like to see their favorite player take a hit, so they all shared the worry when Nick took a devastating open-ice hit delivered by a hulking Red Wing defenseman in the neutral zone.

  Jenna grabbed onto Cara’s hand and squeezed, but they both relaxed slightly when he moved and slowly pushed himself back onto his skates. That was a good sign. But it was a bad sign when he barely took two strides before he stumbled and fell to the ice again. “Oh no,” they both said, looking at each other as Chris Van Haattan, one of the Blackhawks on the ice at the time of the hit, rushed to confront the offender. When someone took out one of the star players of the team, and an alternate captain to boot, then the other players had to avenge him. It was part of the hockey player code.

  “That’s not good,” Cara commented, as Nick left the bench and headed for the dressing room.

  “I hope he’s going to be okay,” Jenna said, feeling concerned. She hoped that it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

  It was, however, worse. Once Nick was back in the dressing room, he didn’t understand why he wasn’t getting ready to go back on the ice. “I have a game to play, I have to finish getting dressed,” he told head trainer, Steven, and his assistant, Tom.

  “You are dressed, Nick. Don’t you remember playing in the game?”

  “I’m not playing in the game. The game hasn’t started yet!” he yelled, wondering what their problem was. They were messing with his routine; he was supposed to be focusing and prepping for warm ups. So why was he already fully dressed for the game?

  “No, Nick. It’s the third period. You took a big hit.”

  “What are you talking about? Why am I dressed already? The game hasn’t started yet!” he roared. The trainers exchanged knowing glances. The confusion, the memory loss, the anger and change in personality.... He definitely suffered a concussion. The only question they had now was how to transport him to the hospital: ambulance or car ride?

  “He’s going to be okay,” Tom said. “A scan is just precautionary. There’s no reason he needs to go in ambulance.”

  “But he’s Nicholas Martin. He’s a big deal. I don’t want to take any shortcuts,” Steven replied.

  “Stop talking about me like I’m not here! I can hear everything you say, and I’m not going to the fucking hospital! I’m not getting a fucking scan!”

  The two trainers looked at each other again. He wa
s being obstinate and belligerent, and it was not going to be an easy task to convince him to go. Even worse, Nick didn’t have any family in town or a girlfriend to try and calm him down and convince him to go, that going would be best for him. They continued to talk over him and debate the best course of action for him. Nick wouldn’t listen to their advice and refused to go for the CT scan, and he argued with them over it for so long that the game was over and the players started to file in from the runway.

  The Blackhawks continued the game, trying to at least get a third goal to tie it in regulation. They had a shortened bench with Nick out, dazed and in the locker room, and then Chris Van Haattan and Brian Cavanaugh in the sin bin for roughing after the hit on Nick Martin. They weren’t able to get that goal, and they lost the game. Losing was never fun, but it especially sucked to lose at home and disappoint their fans, and it was made worse knowing that a player of theirs was hurt and they couldn’t even win the game for him.

  Ryan’s skates clicked softly against the rubber matting as he walked back into the dressing room, wanting to hear the news about his teammate. Nick was still in his pads and uniform and still battling with the trainers about whether or not he was going to the hospital for a scan—and he was adamant that he was not.

  “Yo, Marty. You should just go,” Ryan tried to encourage. “They won’t let you go home until you agree.”

  “Biggie, no one fucking asked you,” Nick spat.

  Ryan threw his hands in the air in surrender. “I was just trying to help, man. Don’t take it out on me. I’ll stay out of this,” he said. Ryan knew that this wasn’t his teammate speaking. He was just angry and confused, and he was cantankerous because of the concussion and not because that’s who he was.

  Several of the girlfriends and wives started to trickle down from the stands, all asking how Nick was doing. The team was a family, and everyone offered to help and pitch in with whatever may be needed.

  “How is he?” Jenna asked Ryan regarding Nick, hoping he was okay. Nick was her friend and her second favorite Blackhawk, although when Jenna and Ryan were fighting, Nick was her first favorite.

  “Fighting with the training staff about not going to the hospital,” he sighed.

  “What? Is it that bad that he needs to go to the hospital?”

  “He’s going to be fine, they just wanna make sure there’s no internal bleeding or anything.”

  “Oh my God,” she said. “He needs to go. Why isn’t he going? He’s the kind of guy who would tell someone else to go.”

  Ryan was defensive. “Hey, I tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He’s dazed and confused.”

  “Well, someone has to make him go.”

  “Then why don’t you talk to him, Jenna?” he asked. She looked at him with a suspicious look, thinking he was pulling her leg or making fun of her. “No, babe, I’m serious. He just might listen to you, because he sure as hell won’t listen to any of his teammates or the staff.”

  Jenna nodded and walked over to his stall, where he was still fighting with the trainers. “Nicky? How ya doing?” she asked calmly.

  “Jenna,” he said, smiling as he looked at her. He reached out and pulled her into a friendly—or over friendly—hug. She looked up at the trainers, wondering what was going on, and they shrugged. “I’m doing great now that you’re here.”

  “Don’t you want to go to the hospital?” she asked.

  “No,” he answered, frowning. Suddenly, he smiled again. “Not unless you take me, Jenna. I like you.”

  The trainers took advantage of his change in demeanor and attitude, rushing to help Nick out of his uniform and talking to Jenna. Jeff helped him with his pads while Steven started explaining everything that Jenna needed to know. “Wait, Steve, stop. Why are you telling me all this? Do you honestly expect me to take him to the hospital?”

  “Jenna, we’re begging you to take him. We’re sure he’s fine, but we’re not taking any chances. If the only way he’ll go is if you’re with him, we need you to.” Steven sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair. “I don’t even know what we’re going to do with him after this. I guess we’ll just have to admit him for observation.”

  “What? Why? I thought you said he was going to be okay?” she asked, very worried now.

  “He can’t be alone for at least 48 hours. At least. And we have no one to release him to. No one’s even called his mom yet,” he dropped his voice so Nick wouldn’t hear, “but we know that she can’t drop everything, with his brother and sister being in school, to come down here to take care of him.”

  “We’ll do it,” Jenna said quickly. For her, there was no question that they would help him out in his time of need.

  “No we won’t,” Ryan countered, just as fast. Jenna wondered how long he had been behind her. He added in her ear, “I don’t think our home is exactly the most inviting place right now.”

  “He’s your teammate,” she replied, giving him a stern look. “And you’re the captain, so you should be offering. He doesn’t have anyone else. He needs us, Ryan.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

  Jenna smiled at him, but Ryan was still annoyed. Steven laid out the game plan: he would drive Jenna and Nick to the hospital so he could get his CT, then he would stop by Nick’s place and get some of his things to tide him over for a few days while he stayed at Jenna and Ryan’s until his symptoms disappeared.

  Chapter 9

  It wasn’t funny, not in the least. But Jenna wanted to laugh. She cupped her hand over her mouth, pretending to wipe at her face, but really she was trying to mask the smile on her lips. This wasn’t the Nick she—or anyone else—knew. Steven, the head trainer, kept reminding her that concussions caused temporary personality changes, and the confusion he was experiencing was exacerbating the situation. Regular Nick was always calculated, collected, and controlled, but concussed Nick was emotional, unsteady, and volatile.

  Not to mention still reeling, dazed, and antagonistic. He didn’t want to listen to any of the trainers, doctors, or nurses. In fact, after Steven had driven Jenna and Nick to the hospital, he couldn’t wait to leave them there and head to Nick’s place to pack an overnight bag for him. Steven couldn’t stand being around a concussed Nick because Nick’s even temper had disappeared and he was quick to yell and swear. Nick was just difficult to be around and put up with. No one could tell Nick to do anything, whether it was to buckle up his seat belt or sit still in the waiting room or lie down for the CT scan.

  The only person Nick wanted to listen to—or would listen to—was Jenna. She was the buffer between Nick and the medical world as he fought every step of the process. If a nurse or doctor told him to sit, he dug his feet in; if Jenna asked sweetly, he would do so immediately with a crooked grin.

  “I need you to lay down and hold as still as possible, okay, Nicholas?” the technician said.

  “I’m not getting in that machine,” Nick refused.

  The technician looked at Jenna, and Jenna smiled at the unwilling patient. “Nicky, please. Can you lie down on the table?”

  “For sure, Jenna. I’d do anything for you. You’ll be here with me?” he asked her as he lay down, just like she asked. She smiled, thinking how easily he listened to her. Maybe if everyone else learned to be a little nicer, he’d be a little more cooperative for them, too.

  She looked back at the technician, who shook his head. “No, Nicky. You’ll be in the room alone.”

  “I’m not doing this alone,” he argued, sitting back up on the exam table and not budging from that position. “I’m not getting in that machine.”

  The technician spoke in a hushed tone so Nick couldn’t hear. “If you’ll agree to it, you can be in the room. It may be the only way he’ll go through with the procedure.”

  “If that’s what it takes,” she sighed, sneaking another quick peek at Nick. He looked like an impatient and stubborn five-year-old, arms crossed defiantly across his chest and lacking reason in his eye
s.

  “We’ll give you a lead apron to cut down on your absorption of the radiation, but I have to ask if there’s any chance you’re pregnant?” Jenna shook her head, and the technician proceeded to help Jenna into the apron. “You seem to have a calming effect on him, so we just want you to be there as a soothing presence. Don’t talk to him, because that’ll probably work him up.”

  “You’ll be here with me, Jenna?” Nick asked again.

  “Sure will, Nicky. You need to lie back down, though.”

  “We’re going to do the CT and just check for any signs of bleeding in the brain,” the technician said, continuing to inform her of what to expect. “As long as there’s no indication of bleeding, we can send him home. Otherwise, he’ll need an MRI.”

  “Let’s hope there’s no bleeding then,” she replied. “Because I can’t see him going for additional testing.”

  “I’m not getting in that machine. Jenna, you’ll be here with me, right?”

  She looked at the technician, feeling just as confused as Nick at that moment. The technician tried to be reassuring. “It’s the concussion. He’s going to repeat himself.”

  “I’m not repeating myself! I’m not getting in that machine.”

  “And he’ll hate to hear that he’s repeating himself,” the technician added quietly.

  Jenna nodded and did her best to be the soothing, calming influence they needed her to be. She stood at the end of the table and he lay down again, but he kept fidgeting. The technician stepped into the observation room and then had to intercom in to them and instructed Nick to hold as still as possible. Jenna placed her hand on his ankle and spoke in a soft, smooth voice. Nick stopped his anxious movements just long enough for the technician to get a clear picture.

  They waited a few moments for the doctor to take a look at the images, but he assured them that there was no internal bleeding, and while Nick would seem out of sorts for at least a week, he would make a full recovery.