Surrender My Love(27)

“Cole? Don’t you agree?” Kenna asked, bringing his mind back to the conversation.

“Yes, maybe you’re right. We were young and we probably needed that time to grow up.” But while I was growing up, you were proving who you really were. He had a feeling she’d never let this go, and he had no choice but to bring it all out in the open. “That’s not what solidified the end of our relationship. It was what you did to Beth.”

Silence filled the airwaves.

“You found out about that?” Her voice was thin, shaky.

“Yes. Beth and I were the reason you and I met, remember?” He paused. She remained silent. “Kenna, family is everything to me, and the fact that you’d hurt your sister like that tells me who you really are.”

“Who I really am? I was a kid, Cole.” She raised her voice, and he pictured her eyes narrow and angry, as they’d been the other night.

He looked out the window, reminding himself that they needed to have this conversation to finally put an end to her hope.

“Age is a poor excuse, Kenna. And it’s just that, an excuse.” He checked his watch. “I have patients to see. Can we just move on from this? Please? I don’t want to have to worry every time we run into each other.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you? You’ve always been too wrapped up in yourself, your schooling, and now your work to deal with anything or anyone else.”

“Kenna, I’m not going there with you.” He knew she’d been jealous of the time he’d spent studying, and maybe he hadn’t given her enough attention back then, but that was a long time ago, and he didn’t regret focusing on his studies.

“Why, Cole? Because your only excuse was that you were young and stupid, too?”

Cole rose to his feet, pacing in front of the window, looking over the town where he’d grown up, the only place he’d ever wanted to settle down. But no longer did he think of Kenna when he walked through the streets, or while he sat on the beach at night, like he had the summer they’d broken up. He knew she’d never understand what he was about to say, because to Kenna, college was about fun and sowing her wild oats, while to Cole it was about achieving the grades to get into medical school and pursue his career. But he’d never been a liar, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“No, Kenna. Not because I was young and stupid. I’m sorry if I hurt you, or didn’t give you the attention you deserved, but I was at school to learn. To study and make it into medical school. The rest…well, I was perfectly content with just one girlfriend. I didn’t need more the way you did. Now, I hope we can put this behind us and move on. I have patients to see.”

As he ended the call, he had a twisting feeling in his gut that this wouldn’t be the last he heard from her. He couldn’t worry about that now, though. He had Elsie Hood’s follow-up appointment to tend to. And then a blissful weekend with Leesa.

Cole sat across from Martin, Ann, and Elsie with one goal on his mind—getting Elsie proper treatment for her pars fracture, which the test results verified. When the Hoods had entered his office, they’d brought with them tension so thick Cole could cut it with a scalpel. Elsie sat between her parents, fidgeting with the fray on the edge of her shorts, her eyes trained on Cole’s desk. Her father sat pin straight, rigid, as if he were preparing for a debate. Ann clutched the arm of the chair in her left hand. Her right hand rested on the arm of Elsie’s chair.

It was times like these that Cole wondered what it must feel like to be a parent, torn between doing the right thing for a child’s well-being and coming between that child and her dreams.

He and his siblings had been involved in every sport growing up, from football and baseball for the boys, to gymnastics and swimming for Shannon. Tempe hadn’t been into aggressive sports, but their mother had insisted that she choose something. She’d chosen golf and sailing. Cole was well aware of the hours and commitment it took from the family for typical sports, and he knew serious athletes practiced upward of three hours a day, some as much as seven days a week. Hell, he’d been one of those. And for Elsie, he’d learned during the initial exam, much of that practice meant leaving home at four thirty in the morning to get to the gym before school.

Elsie’s chance at this year’s Olympic tryouts wasn’t just about Elsie and her success. This was about the hours and lifestyle her parents had given up in order for her to succeed, and Cole had a feeling that wasn’t going to be put aside easily.

“Thank you for coming back to discuss the findings. The tests confirmed that Elsie has a subacute pars fracture of the lumbar spine, bilateral at the fifth lumbar level. This means that there is a fracture on both sides of the lumbar vertebra.”

“Subacute?” Ann furrowed her brow and reached for her daughter’s hand.

Cole was thankful that one of the two parents thought to help their daughter through the diagnosis. He paused for a moment while she gave her daughter’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“Subacute. This means that the fracture occurred roughly six weeks to several months ago.”

Elsie kept her eyes trained on his desk, her free hand now fisted tight.

“Elsie?” Worry filled her mother’s eyes.

Elsie remained quiet.

“Elsie, do you remember having pain prior to a few weeks ago?” Cole knew she must, even if it had felt only like a pulled muscle. This type of fracture could not go unnoticed for so long. What he didn’t know was whether Elsie had complained and her father had disregarded her or pushed her through the pain, or if this was Elsie’s battle, supported by her father. Her mother seemed too surprised by the suggestion for it to be a feigned reaction.

“I don’t remember.” She finally lifted hopeful eyes and asked, “But you can fix it, right, Dr. Braden?”

He smiled to put her at ease and because, yes, he believed they could heal her injury with the right treatment. “Yes, Elsie. At your age, your spine is still growing, and bone-to-bone healing is not only possible, but if treated correctly, you should be able to compete again next year.”

“Next year?” Martin snapped. His beady eyes narrowed. “Olympic trials are in two months.”

Cole nodded. “Yes, I’m aware.” He folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Mr. Hood, your daughter’s injury is not a pulled muscle. It can’t be fixed with a week of downtime. Bones need time to heal, and with a fracture of this type, at this stage, they need to be stabilized during the healing process. I can’t, in good conscience, recommend anything less than a thoracolumbosacral orthosis, or TLSO, in combination with anti-inflammatories, and of course, limited activity.”

“We came to you because we were told that you had other treatment options available. You came highly recommended by other athletes,” Martin said with an accusing tone and a stare to match. “Isn’t there a surgery you can do that would fix this quicker?”

Cole reined in his irritation at this man’s complete disregard for his professional opinion. “Mr. Hood, back surgery is serious business and not something we recommend unless we see that less-aggressive treatments aren’t effective first. In addition, recovery from back surgery is not any easier than what I’m recommending.” He turned his attention to Elsie, wanting to help her understand the treatment as much as her parents. “Elsie is a teenager. Her body is still growing, and healing naturally is always a better option for patients Elsie’s age. I realize that this puts a hitch in her plans, but once healed, after she demonstrates full range of motion, strength, and is symptom free, she should be able to return to competing.”

“Dr. Braden, how long do you think that might take?” Elsie asked.

“It’s hard to say, Elsie. Anywhere from two to several months.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “If I had felt something weeks earlier and I had come in, would that have made a difference?” She must have felt her father’s dark stare shift to her, because while her eyes remained trained on Cole, she said, “I’m not saying I did, but if I had?”

“It’s always best to tend to injuries when they first occur,” Cole explained. He didn’t want her to feel guilty about something that he could guess was probably directed by her overbearing father, but she was an athlete, and she needed to understand the ramifications of not tending to future injuries in a timely manner.

“The important thing is that you’re here now and your injury is treatable.”

Martin rose from his chair. Fear filled Elsie’s eyes as her mother rose beside her while she remained sitting.

“Thank you, Dr. Braden. We’ll take this under consideration,” her father said.

Cole came around the desk. “Mr. Hood, I’ve already spoken to our orthotist, and he can see Elsie today to have her fitted for a brace and to discuss—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Martin said. “We’ll go home and discuss treatment options among ourselves, and then we’ll be seeking a second opinion. Thank you for your time.”

“Mr. Hood, if not treated properly, your daughter could experience life-long pain. I hope you’ll give my suggestion serious consideration. There will be other competitions.”