Finding Infinity (25 page)

I knew when I fell in love with an elite athlete what the risks were. I also know that if Colin was an engineer he could sustain this same injury in a car accident. Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel better.

I get a text from my dad. They’re in Dallas, and need directions to the hospital. He also asks me to take pictures of the x-rays and send them to him, so he knows what to expect.

I cringe as I pick up the manila envelope and make my way to the nurses’ station. “Would it be possible for me to view some x-rays?” I ask, as I hold up the envelope.

She smiles, and directs me to an empty patient room. I slip the film out of the envelope and line it up on the light board. Then, I take a deep breath and flip the switch to on.

My breath exits my body, and my lungs forget to inflate. I stand there, stunned, looking at my husband’s leg. After a few seconds, maybe minutes, I take a breath.

I can’t quit looking at the break.

“Need some help, best doctor friend?” Brad asks quietly. I’m not sure when he entered the room, but I’m so thankful that he did.

I lose it. So far, I’ve kept my act together, but hearing Brad’s kind words gut me. He rushes to me, and takes me in his arms. “I’m so fucking scared.” I weep into his chest.

He pats my back and says, “It’s okay. Looks like he’s going to have some down time, but Colin’s going to be fine.”

“I know,” I reply. “But seeing him lying on the field in such agony killed me. I’m okay. Just needed to get that out.”

I let go of Brad and attempt to compose myself. I take two deep breaths and let them out while I smooth my rumpled shirt and wipe my eyes. I pull out my phone and snap pictures of each film, and then text them to my dad. I also send him the surgeon’s name, and let him know that they’re waiting for him to arrive.

“How’s Daddy dearest?” Brad quips when I’m done.

“Being a dad right now, which is what I need,” I reply with a shrug.

“Good, because I’d hate to have to kick his ass,” he says, pulling me to him again. Brad beating anyone up is laughable, but I love him for even suggesting it.

I go back out into the waiting room and begin returning the plethora of voice mails that are waiting for me. My first call is to Aiden. He’s boarding a plane and will be here in a couple of hours. My next call is to Mark, who’s also trying to get a ticket to Dallas.

I send a text to my family, let them know what’s going on, and tell them that Dad’s with me. I’m not sure if Carmen has shared the news with Tiffany and Sarah.

My parent sense kicks in, and I look up to see Dad rushing into the hospital. Carmen is hot on his heels, as Brad intercepts her. I stand up and grab my dad’s hand, pulling him to the nurses’ station. The nurse gives us permission to go into Colin’s room.

I’ve done hundreds of surgeries, but it doesn’t change the fact that seeing my love lying in a bed, doped out of his mind in a hospital gown that’s barely covering his privates, is shocking. The nurse is shaving his leg in preparation for the surgery. I force my eyes to his gorgeous face and don’t linger on his gruesome injury.

Colin gives me a drunk wave. I laugh and kiss his lips. Then, my fingers immediately become entangled in his hair.

“I’m a Prince and you’re Waller,” he slurs.

The nurse looks up from shaving. “He keeps repeating that.” She gives me a confused shoulder shrug.

I smile at him and reply, “Baby, it’s Wallis, not Waller.”

“Yeah, that. Waller like the town on the way to Houston. Did you know that my leg is broken?” he slurs.

“Yes. I do. My dad is going to be in the operating room with you the whole time,” I reassure him, not knowing if he’s actually comprehending a word that I’m saying.

My dad approaches Colin, and says, “Look, you may not be the son-in-law that I would have chosen, but you make Caroline happy. We’re going to take good care of you.”

Colin, in his doped-up state, spits out, “You’re damn right I make her happy. She might be havin’ my baby.”

My dad shoots me a look, and I gently shake my head, no. I forgot that I’m going to have to add insult to injury—literally—and tell Colin that I didn’t get pregnant this month.

The nurse says to Colin, “Do you have something to give Charlie?” Her use of the name that only Colin calls me temporarily throws me for a loop.

Colin looks like a little boy who’s gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “No,” he says as he tries to hide his left hand underneath him.

She flashes me a knowing smile. “We had a deal. You could keep your ring until Charlie arrived, but now you have to turn it over.”

“Baby, I’ll put it on my infinity necklace and it’ll stay next to my heart. As soon as you’re out of surgery, I’ll give it back to you.” I grab his hand pulling it out from underneath him, and kiss his ring finger.

His eyes betray his annoyance as he stares at the poor nurse who’s just doing her job. He takes it off and hands it to me with a drunken huff. Colin watches me with hawk like eyes while I slip it on my necklace. “See. Safe and sound.”

The surgeon comes in and motions for us to join him in the hallway. We look at the x-rays together and discuss the results of the MRI. I keep my emotions in check, and act like the doctor that I am. Fortunately, this is a pretty straightforward procedure. Colin will have more steel added to his body, but at least he’s kept it all on the same leg.

Then it hits me. Colin’s not going to be able to drive for a while. I almost laugh out loud at the prospect of me having to drive him around again. It’s like how we met, but almost eleven years later. I can’t wait to tease him about this.

I walk back into the surgical prep room and assure Colin that he’s in good hands. The anesthesiologist waits for the surgeon to give him the nod, then, he asks Colin to start counting backward from one hundred. Colin doesn’t make it to ninety-five. I brush one more kiss across his stubbled cheek before I leave him in the capable hands of my father and the surgeon.

I head out to the waiting room that’s now filled with well-wishers. There’s Jenny, Brad, Carmen, Colin’s parents, Liza, Tyler, a ton of Cowboy’s staff, and about twenty players. Then, I notice police officers that have cordoned off part our section of chairs and couches.

“What’s with all the security?” I ask.

“They’re keeping Colin’s fans safely outside,” Jenny informs me with a wink.

I walk to the bank of windows, and look down. It’s twilight, and there are fans as far as the eye can see, holding a prayer vigil outside of the hospital. Some have made signs wishing him a speedy recovery. Others are holding candles or their illuminated phones. I can hear them singing, but I can’t make out what song. There are probably seven different news cameras and reporters set up outside with their camera lights on and speaking into their microphones.

I reach up, and touch my infinity necklace, and his wedding ring feeling the stones inside. I hope my husband is peacefully sleeping while the doctors make him whole again.

Susan asks, “How’s my boy?”

“Drunk, on the hospital’s finest. I reviewed the MRI and x-rays. The break was bad, but it’s not career-ending. He’s going to have a long road of recovery ahead of him before next season starts,” I use my doctor voice.

John stammers, “Will he play football at the same level?”

“As a medical doctor, I can say that the leg will never be what it was before the injury. Knowing Colin, though, he’s going to be just fine.” I smile. I leave out the part about what this means ten, twenty, thirty years down the road.

Brad says, in the way that only Brad can, “I’ve heard that the cafeteria here offers straight from the farm produce, with only grain-fed beef, no preservatives, and desserts without calories. Shall we partake?” which sounds more like par—take.

Jenny laughs, and says, “Brad you’re full of shit, but I’ll go. Caroline?”

I let out a sigh. I don’t want to leave in case my dad comes out with early news, but I know that it’s going to be another couple of hours of waiting, and I haven’t eaten since this morning. “Sure. I could be persuaded to have a piece of calorie-free pie.” I acquiesce.

We make our way to the cafeteria—Colin’s three musketeers. We each grab something to eat and choose a table in the corner. It strikes me that this is the first time that I’ve eaten out in months. Colin and I quit dining in public after the Espy Awards spotlight. I’m actually eating—in public—in a restaurant, and no one has asked for an autograph.

Practical Pig, as Brad calls me, says, “So Jenny, Colin’s not going to be able to drive for a long time. You might have to add chauffer to your job description.”

“I’m not driving Bertha,” she says horror stricken.

“Of course you aren’t,” I nod my head in total agreement. “That truck only behaves for Colin, and now, apparently, his dad. I should be able to help, but I have a responsibility to the hospital.”

“He’s going to be such a huge pain in my ass,” Jenny quips.

“That he is,” I agree, as I take a sip of my Diet Coke. I’ve been trying to stay away from caffeine since we’re hoping to get pregnant, but after the day I’ve had I need something.

Jenny pushes her fresh from the farm salad plate away from her and says with a very somber face. “Do you think that Colin will really recover from this, Caroline?”

“Yeah. I do. Colin wants a Super Bowl. He’s going to work harder than anyone ever, and he will be the starting quarterback next season.” I sound much more confident than I feel.

“I hope you’re right.”

* * * *

“You can come see him now,” Dad says.

I follow him back through the series of mazes to the recovery area. They’re just wheeling him in from surgery. The recovery nurse is chatting away with Colin, telling him about her Thanksgiving plans. She’s going to visit her sister. I laugh, because recovery nurses are like hairdressers. They can talk to anyone about anything. It’s a gift. A calling, if you will.

Colin is trying to talk to her, but he sounds more like a drunk who’s just on the verge of passing out. I walk over to him, and brush the matted waves off of his forehead. “So, I hear you’re as good as new.”

“Really?” he asks, but it sounds more like “Real-we.”

“Sure, baby. You’re just going to have to endure about three months of Jenny and me driving you around. That’s all,” I tease him, as I comb my fingers through his hair trying to tame the waves.

“Ah…fuck me. Nurse, can you put me back under?” He jokes…I think?

“The good news is that I get to be your personal doctor.”

“I like you playing doctor,” he replies in a sloppy voice as he attempts to raise his eyebrows.

“Oh…baby, I know that you do.”

“Can I go back to sleep now?” he asks pathetically.

“Nope. If you don’t stay awake then the nurse gets really scared, and she’ll call Doctor Jack Collins.”

“Ah…that’s bad news. He’s the big, bad wolf. I’ll try to stay awake,” he reassures me as if this is the most important sentence ever spoken.

“You also have to pee in a bedside pan if you want to leave recovery.”

The nurse corrects me. “No. He just has to be awake enough to get transferred into his own room. They’re keeping him overnight.”

“Well, big boy. Looks like you and me are shacking up in a hospital bed.” I raise my eyebrows suggestively.

“Nooooooo,” he whines. “I want to go home.” Now he sounds like a belligerent drunk.

“I’m not a doctor here. Just your wife. I can’t pull any strings, love. Plus, it might be fun,” I say with a sexy wink.

“Y’all are so cute,” the nurse drawls. “Are y’all married?”

Colin glares at her, and says, “None of your fuckin’ business.” Now, he’s a mean drunk.

I laugh because he’s still so wasted. I turn to her and smile politely. “What Colin means to say is that I’m his wife, but we’re not sharing the news with the world.”

She makes a motion of zipping her lips, and tossing away the key.

I stay and visit with her, and hold Colin’s hand as he begins to sober up, which also means that he starts to feel the pain more.

After another hour, they transfer us to a room. Other than me, Colin’s not allowed visitors until he’s able to keep down an apple, because he refused to eat the crackers and empty his bladder. His stomach holds the apple and he uses the bed pan like a good patient.

The nurse and I get him situated with his right leg elevated before I step outside and let his mom and dad go in to visit him. I hang in the hallway, giving them some privacy.

Jenny informs me that the flowers are rolling in already. I ask her to donate the arrangements to the elderly patients, but keep the cards. Colin’s going to have a lot of time to personally write thank you notes.

Next, the team’s media person pulls me aside, and asks how I want to field personal questions about Colin’s injury. I know that the team has already issued a statement on Colin’s condition, so her question catches me by surprise. I must look confused, because she begins to elaborate.

Apparently, the media wants to know if I did the surgery, how involved I’m going to be with Colin’s rehab, and is he going to do his therapy in Houston at my father’s practice.

“He just got moved to a patient room. Can we tell the media that it’s none of their business? I mean, I don’t even know when I get to take him home,” I reason. It just seems a little soon for me to be talking to them.

“We’ll go radio silent until Colin’s ready to speak,” she confirms, in a most efficient manner. “Please mention to him that he’ll probably need to make a statement before he leaves the hospital.”

“Why?” I ask biting my lip.

“Doctor McKinney, the police estimate that there are over five thousand people outside, holding vigil for Colin. You may not think that his condition is anyone’s business, but his fans beg to differ,” she says this very matter-of-factly, and I get it. She represents the team.

I walk to the end of the hall and look out the window. She’s right. The crowd has grown from earlier. They’re wearing Colin’s jersey making sure that we know that they care. I’m touched. These are the good fans, the ones who care about him. My eyes fill with tears. I want to personally give every one of them a hug.