Page 111 of Play For Me

She’s quiet for a moment but eventually she shakes her head. “They wouldn’t judge me. But I’m sure they were surprised. That’s notme.”

To be honest, I hadn’t noticed their reaction when I walked in that room. All I could think about was getting to Cecelia, not the people standing around her bed. But looking back on it, yeah, I think it’s safe to say they were pretty shocked. Whether that was in reaction to her crying or me storming in there and grabbing her without saying a word to anyone, I don’t know.

“It’s okay if it is, you know,” I tell her. “It’s okay if you’re someone who cries sometimes. Hell, it’d be okay if you cried all the time. You should see Jay when the Lakers lose. Weepy bastard.”

She giggles, and I feel lighter. No matter how bad things are for her right now, it’s good to know I can still cheer her up.

I hold her a little closer. “You don’t always have to be strong, Cecelia. Even if your family or your team expect you to. It’s okay to feel however you feel, to be exactly who you are.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her breathing evening out as the tears peter away. “I always feel like that with you,” she finally murmurs. “Like I can be exactly how I am.”

“I’m glad,” I say, voice thick. That old anxiety voice in the back of my head whispers to me, reminding me that I can’t really say the same, that I hide a shit ton of things from Cecelia. From everyone. The realization brings something heavy to my chest but I force it down, trying to concentrate only on the girl in my arms.

I hold her until she falls asleep.

We arrive backat the university hospital before Devon, which I suppose is a good thing. It probably would have looked pretty suspicious if he was here first and saw me coming in with the Ransomes.

Dr. Patel, the team physician, called this morning to let Cecelia know he’d handed the scans over to the orthopedic surgeon who had done her surgery last year, and arranged for us to meet with her directly to go over the results. I know that added more stress to Cecelia—something about meeting with the surgeon makes it feel more serious. And I know she hates being back at the hospital where she had her surgery for a second time in as many days.

“Dad,” Cecelia says after we’ve been sitting in the reception area for a few minutes. “Stop fidgeting.”

Cash shoves his hands into his jeans, but a moment later, his leg starts bouncing. Cecelia looks at her mom and they both roll their eyes.

We don’t have to wait long. Devon arrives with the team doctor and begins introductions. I can see Dr. Patel’s eyes widenwhen he’s introduced to Cash, and he stammers for a second about how it’s nice to meet him. It makes me want to punch something. Cash Ransome is not the reason we’re here right now. Luckily Dr. Patel gets it together pretty quickly and ushers us into the surgeon’s office.

“Cecelia,” the surgeon says, coming around her desk to shake hands.

“Hi Dr. Bass,” Cecelia says, and I can tell she’s trying to keep her voice even.

“It’s good to see you again.” Dr. Bass raises an eyebrow. “But I’d rather it be under different circumstances.

“You and me both,” she mutters.

The surgeon gives Cecelia’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s see what we’re working with, okay?”

Dr. Bass sits down behind her computer while the Ransomes take seats on the other side of her desk, the team physician hovering over the surgeon’s shoulder. Devon and I stay leaning against the wall, out of the way. From my vantage point I can see Cecelia playing with the Velcro on her brace. She hasn’t said much since we got in the car to come to the hospital. She’s nervous and I hate it.

“Tell me about your pain levels last night,” the surgeon asks, clicking the mouse as she studies her screen.

“Fairly high.” Cecelia’s voice is flat, almost robotic. “Woke me up a few times. Ice and pain killers helped.”

“Mmm,” she murmurs vaguely, leaning toward the screen. “Any locking or catching in the joint?”

“No. But I wasn’t on it much.”

She nods. “That’s good.”

The mouse clicks a few more times. Dr. Bass makes some noncommittal noises, her eyes never leaving the screen. She points something out to Dr. Patel in a hushed murmur, and I canpractically feel Cecelia’s tension ramping up. Cash is bouncing his knee again.

Finally, the surgeon turns away from the screen and smiles. “I’m not seeing any sign of a tear. Your ACL graft looks good.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Wait,” Cecelia finally squeaks. “You’re saying it’s okay?”

Dr. Bass nods. “I’d say we’re looking at an MCL sprain and some scar tissue irritation. Structurally, I’m not seeing a problem. You’re good.”

“See?” Devon exclaims, leaning over to squeeze Cecelia’s shoulders. “I told you it was going to be okay!”

Cash lets out a shaky laugh and Sam reaches over to grab her daughter’s hand. Cecelia just sits there, silent, probably more than a little shocked.