Going for Kona by Pamela Fagan Hutchins

Author:Pamela Fagan Hutchins [Hutchins, Pamela Fagan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939889195
Publisher: SkipJack Publishing
Published: 2014-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning I slept in, unable to start my engines, but I had to get moving. I had an eight thirty appointment at Dr. Cooper’s office. I grabbed my phone and noticed the flashing light on my way out the door.

Annabelle. “Michele, r u there? I need to talk to you.”

I’d have to answer her later. I hustled into the clinic, where the receptionist funneled me into an examination room. I sat on the leather exam table and settled in to wait, but Blake came in almost immediately. He wore green scrubs the color of my husband’s eyes.

“Play it again, Sam,” he said.

It took me a moment to understand he wasn’t referring to my Sam. “I sure hope not. Look, I’m sorry. I’m usually pretty reliable. I know I owe you for the missed appointment.”

He held up his hand in the “stop” gesture. “How can you pay for an appointment you didn’t have? We worked you in. And I told you, the first visit’s on me. I hope everything is okay with your son?”

I pulled the blinds closed over my eyes. “Yes, all fine. Thank you.”

Like he had at the park, Blake let me hide. His restraint or professionalism or whatever it was put me more at ease. “Give me the verdict from the orthopedist.” He sat down and leaned forward with his hands on his knees.

“IT band syndrome, don’t run, I’m not a good enough athlete to waste my time on therapy and rehab.”

He sighed. “I’m sometimes pleasantly surprised when surgeons encourage their patients toward a natural healing approach, but not often. Well, we’ll get aggressive with it. You should reduce your training, but we want to have you running at a hundred percent ASAP.”

Before I could ask what he meant by “reduce,” the door opened and one of his female coworkers entered. Athletic-looking and fit, of course, in blue scrubs. And tall.

“Michele, this is Dr. Greene. I’ve asked her to take care of you. Dr. Greene, Michele.”

We shook hands and she plopped a heating pad onto my left knee and thigh. The warmth rushed through me with a sense of peace. Dr. Greene got down to business. My kind of woman. “Tell me about yourself, Michele.”

I started to tell her about my knee pain, but she interrupted.

“Tell me about your lifestyle, your sport, your workouts, that kind of thing.”

I obliged.

She listened like I was telling her the secrets of the universe. “When did your knee start hurting?”

“Well, my husband qualified for an age-group spot at Kona, and—”

She sat up straight. “Oh, wow, what’s his age group, what’s his name? I may know him, that’s so cool.”

Blake moved to cut in, but I pretended it didn’t faze me. “He died in a hit-and-run accident a few weeks ago, but you’re right, it is cool, and his name is Adrian Hanson. He qualified in forty-five to forty-nine.” I sucked in a deep cleansing breath.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Please, don’t apologize. You didn’t do a thing wrong, and I’m very proud of him.

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