Body Check (30 page)

As she padded out to the kitchen, her mind raced.
If Ty were here, this wouldn't have happened. It only happened because we haven't gotten together for a while for Chinese food and sex. It's an omen. It's . . .

Ridiculous.
Since when was she superstitious? Ty was the superstitious one, always having to lace up his left skate before his right, always having the same dinner before a game—pasta with grilled veggies. A lot of the guys had quirks like that, she'd noticed. Kevin Gill had a statue of the Virgin Mary he kept in his locker that he kissed. Lonnie Campbell always tucked in the back left side of his uniform. Defenseman Wally Manzourek kept a rabbit's foot on the team's bench in the arena. Some guys were even known to stop shaving during the Playoffs. Thankfully, Ty wasn't one of them.

The kitchen was chilly. Even though it was already April, the mornings were still cool. Setting up the coffee as quietly as she could, so as not to wake Theresa, her mind remained on Ty. He seemed squirrelly lately, like he just wanted to be alone. She knew he was preoccupied with the upcoming Playoffs, so she had given him a wide berth. There were only three games left in the regular season. Three games left until they'd begin seriously bumping heads again over PR. He'd already told her he wouldn't talk to anyone but the beat reporters during the Playoffs. Meanwhile, interview requests were pouring in faster than she could keep up with them, especially since the leadership piece in
Sports Illustrated
. She'd need to ask Lou—

Lou
. She sat down at the kitchen table, clearing her seed catalogs out of the way to make room for her coffee mug. The last thing on earth she wanted to face was the sight of him helpless in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines and a tangled highway of tubes. But she had no choice; this was one of those situations where like it or not, you have to do the right thing. With that thought in mind, she sipped at her coffee, and waited for dawn to come.

 

 

The thin, tired looking woman behind the nurses' station in the Intensive Care Unit peered up at Janna suspiciously.

“I'm Louis Capesi's daughter,” Janna replied smoothly. The woman, distracted by the computer screen in front of her, didn't answer immediately. When she did, her tone was perfunctory.

“He's at the end of the hall, room 515. No more than fifteen minutes, please.”

Janna nodded and started off in the direction that she was pointed in, the clacking of her clogs against the highly polished floor embarrassingly loud to her own ears, especially when compared with the silent steps of the staff hustling past in rubber soles. She hated hospitals. It didn't matter that Lou was in one of the finest cardiac care units in the country. From the moment she'd stepped inside and passed through the first set of automated double doors in the lobby, she'd been overwhelmed with anxiety. It was the smell: cold, sterile, designed to mask fear and sickness and death. She should have brought him some of the fragrant lavender she'd grown in her little garden.

The door to Lou's room was open. Not knowing what to expect, she hesitated before stepping inside. There was Lou propped in a hospital bed, eyes closed, his pallor glowing ghostly green beneath the thin strip of neon lighting above his bed. Despite his girth, he seemed dwarfed by the equipment surrounding him. A heart monitor beeped out its monotone song, while another machine whose function Janna wasn't sure of pinged away in frantic counterpoint. An IV pole pumped what she assumed to be glucose into his pudgy, hairy arm. Tubes thin as spaghetti fed Lou oxygen through the nose while others crisscrossed his chest. Her eyes filled, and she looked down to the floor, composing herself. Should Lou awaken, she didn't want him to see her crying.

Pulling up a chair, she sat down beside him and put her hand on top of his. His skin was cold. It alarmed her. Was his skin supposed to be this cold? She wondered if she should call a nurse. Lou stirred, blinking. His eyes opened. He seemed to take a minute to adjust to his surroundings. When he realized Janna was beside him, he gave a trace of a smile.

“Hey, doll face.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“You don't have to talk,” Janna murmured to him, slowly massaging his hand in an effort to warm it up.

“I want to.”

Janna threw him a look of warning. “Lou, I don't want you wearing yourself out.”

“Hey,” he wheezed, “who's the boss here?”

“Right now, I am.” She reached up, tenderly touching his cheek. “Close your eyes if you want.”

He nodded, eyes closed. “Doctor says . . . my love affair with cheeseburgers is over.”

“You got that right.”

The small, piggy eyes opened up again. “I'm sorry about this.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Lou's hand was beginning to warm a bit. Janna started rubbing a bit more briskly now.

Lou sighed. “I feel bad about leaving you alone with Cowley.”

“I can handle Jack, ” Janna assured him.

A half smile settled on Lou's lips. “The real question is whether Cowley will be able to handle you.”

Janna smiled, taking it as a compliment. “Is there anyone you want me to call?” she asked. “Anything you need taken care of that you might have forgotten to mention to Lily?”

Lou shook his head no. “It was nice of you to come.”

“You're my friend, Lou. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetcakes.” His eyes shut again as he sank deeper into the pillows. “If I die—”

“You're not going to die. Granted, you did come close, but they got to you in time, thank God.” She raised his now warm hand to her mouth and kissed it.

“When I thought I was going to die . . . when I was lying there on the kitchen floor . . . I told Lily I loved her. I realized that was the most important thing, that she knew that. 'Cause you never know. . . .”

“Sshhh, enough. Enough talking now. Rest.”

She sat with him, waiting for him to drift back to sleep. A nurse came into the room with two more bouquets of flowers. The room was full to overflowing. Lou really was loved. When Janna was satisfied he was resting comfortably, she rose, kissed his forehead, and left, stopping back at the nurses' station.

“I was wondering if you could give me an update on my father's condition,” she said politely to the same nurse she'd spoken with earlier.

“What do you want to know?”

“Is he out of the woods yet?”

“He's still in critical condition.”

“Which means what?”

The nurse looked impatient. “That we're doing all we can, but in the meantime, we have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't go into cardiac arrest again.”

I see,” said Janna in a small voice. “Thank you.”

Numb, she made her way down the silent corridor toward the elevators. Anguish squeezed at her heart like pincers. She couldn't bear the thought of Lou dead. She imagined him lying on the kitchen floor looking up into Lily's frightened face, telling her that he loved her. This time she let the tears come.
All of
us, she thought bleakly,
truly are alone unless we reach out, connect, say what's in our hearts
. The simple truth of this overwhelmed her. Outside on the sidewalk, she hailed a cab. When the driver asked her where she wanted to go, she gave him Ty's address.

 

 

 

 

Ty wasn't big
on surprises. So when the weekend doorman buzzed to let him know Janna was downstairs, he felt annoyed. What was she doing stopping by unannounced? He had a game tomorrow, an important game.

Resigned to the intrusion, he told the doorman to send her up. His eyes did a quick tour of the living room. It was untidy, but not a total disaster. Inez had been down with the flu since Thursday, and rather than have someone fill in for her, he'd decided to just let it go. Newspapers had piled up, cast-off clothing draped the back of the couch, and half-empty coffee mugs littered the table. No big deal. Janna wasn't exactly Martha Stewart herself.

The doorbell rang and he let her in. He could see right away that something was wrong. Her eyes were swollen from crying. He pulled her inside, worried.

“What's the matter?”

Janna's lower lip began quivering. “It's Lou,” she managed to get out before tears overtook her. “He's had a heart attack. He's in the hospital.”

“Oh, baby.” He folded her in his arms. “I'm so sorry.” Janna murmured something, but he couldn't make it out because she was speaking right into his chest. Her grip on him got tighter, as if she was afraid to let him go. He tightened his squeeze around her, too, to reassure her.

“Just let it out, honey,” he soothed, stroking her hair. “It's okay.”

She followed his advice and let go, sob after sob shaking her small body. He was flattered she'd come to him, but he felt like a bit of dolt just standing there holding her, his mind a total blank as to what to say in comfort. Perhaps just holding her was enough for now. If she wanted to talk, she would.

He thought back to the last time he'd seen Lou, after Friday night's murderous game against Tampa Bay. Capesi had respected his wish to deal only with beat reporters, and had barred everyone else from the locker room while the players showered and changed. He appreciated that, same as he appreciated Lou's talent for matching the right player with the right interviewer or photographer. None of his guys had ever come back from a photo shoot or an event arranged by Lou and complained. The same held true for Janna. It was touch and go in the beginning when she was new, but now she was as good as her boss. Except when it came to him, of course. Him she still hounded. Probably so Capesi didn't have to.

He resolved to call a bunch of the guys after Janna left to arrange a visit to Lou before the game tomorrow. That would cheer him up. He wasn't surprised the Bull had keeled, and he doubted any of the guys would be, either. He felt guilty now, thinking about the times they'd all poked fun at Lou behind his back. To a bunch of jocks in peak condition, Lou's physical appearance, eating habits and reckless disregard of exercise was horrifying. Even now, just thinking about it, Ty felt uneasy. How could anyone let themselves get that way, put their health at risk? He didn't get it. Still, he would never wish a heart attack on the guy. This was bad news, no doubt about it.

Janna gently broke from his embrace. She seemed calmer. “I'm sorry,” she apologized, sniffling. “I was just at the hospital and when I left, the only person I wanted to see was you.”

“It's okay.” He reached out and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”

“Sure.”

Ty could sense she was slightly miffed as he led her toward the couch. Was she upset he'd only asked her to come in for a minute? He hoped not. Because much as he wanted to comfort her, there was no way he was going to let this impromptu visit get out of hand. He was of the old school—sex prior to playing a game saps a player of focus and vitality. Maybe some jocks could handle two athletic events in a row, but he wasn't one of them. Especially since his talk with Tubs. Taking her coat, he draped it over the arm of a chair before dropping down on the sofa beside her.

Janna looked around, still sniffling. “Where's Inez?”

“She's been sick.”

“I can tell.” She reached out for one of the coffee mugs on the table and peered inside. Disgusted, she put it back down. “Why don't you let me wash these for you?”

“No thanks.”

“But—”

“No.”

The last thing on earth he wanted her doing was his dishes. It was simply too intimate, too domestic. It meant too much symbolically. If he let her do the dishes, next she'd be offering to do laundry, and before he knew it he'd be married with three kids and a house in Westchester. No, no dishwashing, not now, not ever.

“You're upset I just showed up, aren't you?” She was trying to read his face, a slightly wounded expression on her own.

“I'm not upset,” Ty maintained carefully.

“You're annoyed.”

He decided to be honest with her. “Yeah, I am. But considering the circumstances, I understand.”

Janna's eyes began watering again. “He's really bad,” she whispered. “He's in critical condition.”

Oh, no, please don't cry again,
Ty begged silently.
Jesus
. Could he be a more selfish bastard? Here she was in the midst of a crisis and all he could think about was how uncomfortable all this was making him.

Ashamed, he slid closer to her and put a consoling arm around her shoulder.

“What did they say?” he coaxed.

“That they're trying to prevent another heart attack.”

Ty shook his head. “Poor Bull. Can't say I'm surprised, though.”

“Me, either.”

“How is this going to affect you at work?”

“Oh, work's just going to be great,” she said bitterly. “I'm going to have to kowtow to Jack Cowley until Lou comes back.”

“I thought you were above Cowley now.”

“Technically, but he has seniority since he's been there longer.”

“Don't worry, Lou will be back soon.” He pulled her closer to him and kissed the top of her head, relishing the smell of her hair. It reminded him of apples, crisp and fresh. Pure. He inhaled again, then forced himself to stop, knowing that if he lingered a second or two longer, he might want more. Janna seemed to sense this; turning in the crook of his arm, she leaned in to kiss the side of his face.