The Sloth Zone, page 12
“What questions do you have for me?” Dr. Zhang asked.
“Let’s say I did elect to have the procedure. How does it work?”
“The surgery is done by arthroscope. I make a few small incisions about the width of a pencil around your hip and tie the frayed parts of the ligament back together. These days, it’s an outpatient procedure. Patients walk out of here on the same day they check in to go home.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant. One of my major worries was that I’d have to be on bed rest.”
“Sometimes patients do, but it depends on the extent of their injury. For example, you don’t have a full tear, so you wouldn’t need me to resurface the joint.”
Gemma resisted the urge to cringe. Resurfacing a joint sounded horrid. “What’s the total recovery time?”
“Bodies all heal at different rates. On average, however, it tends to take about three to four months to be back to full activity. Patients start with six weeks of PT, three times a week, and adjust accordingly. You could be on the ice in as little as a month if you’re hoping to coach as you recover. Of course, that would be no jumps, spins, or anything risky until I fully clear you.”
Gemma’s eyes widened. “I’d be a model patient.”
“I’m not worried about you. Unlike my hockey players, figure skaters are more patient.” Dr. Zhang chuckled. “They understand that recovery can’t be rushed.”
Her eyes darted over the side-by-side images of her bad hip and her healthy hip. It was amazing that something that looked like a stretched-out hair tie could affect her so much. Turning back to Dr. Zhang, she asked, “Which of the two options would you recommend for me?”
“You’re more physically active and have higher stress loads on the hip than the average person. Based on our chat, I’d recommend a surgical repair.”
Sensing her anxiety, he quickly added, “Take your time when you’re making a choice. Remember, you can always begin with the nonsurgical option and change your mind at a later date. However, if the surgery is something you decide to do, I’d highly recommend you consider doing it sooner rather than later.”
When Mel first gave me the news to take time off, two weeks felt like the end of the world, but now, I can understand that in the grand scheme of things, two weeks is nothing. There are so many different factors to consider. I don’t want to do all this hard work to rehab and injure myself again in the future. But I still don’t know about having surgery.
“Thank you, Dr. Zhang. I think I need a few days before I decide how I want to handle all this.”
“Of course. I don’t blame you.”
“When do you think I’ll be able to start skating again?”
“I’d like to see you off the ice another one to two weeks. Rest seems to be working well for you, but there is still a large amount of inflammation. Why don’t we schedule a follow-up right before you leave town?”
“Sure.”
Originally, Gemma hadn’t decided how long she would stay in town, but now that decision had been made for her. They agreed on a date and Gemma promised she’d let him know if any additional questions came to mind.
As she walked out the doors of Dr. Zhang’s office, she was faced with a harsh reality. She had hoped that the news would be positive, but her injury wasn’t just tendonitis. It was a torn ligament, and the only way to guarantee a fix was surgery.
Whatever my next step is going to be will decide my future. Where do I go from here?
Chapter 15
“You can just drop me off here,” Gemma said as the car entered the downtown area of Sequoia Valley.
She muttered a word of thanks as she climbed out, and her gaze locked onto the window of a shop filled with brightly-colored comic books and cardboard cutouts of superheroes. Before she knew exactly what she was doing, she’d entered The Caped Crusader’s Corner. A bell chimed.
“I’ll be right with you,” a man’s voice called out from behind a black curtain.
“Okay,” she replied.
Taking a moment to figure out what she’d say to the clerk, she glanced at her surroundings. The shop was definitely a place where Tim would feel at home. Each wall was covered in floor-to-ceiling shelving, but to Gemma’s surprise, there weren’t only comic books. There were also a number of rare vintage toys, stuffed animals, and DVDs, and a small coffee bar was set up in the corner. A handwritten sign indicated that drinks were free, but donations were appreciated.
“How curious,” she mumbled to herself as she felt something warm rubbing against her legs. Glancing downward, she spied a black-and-white tuxedo cat studying her with large yellow eyes. Its fur was long. Its tail wagged side to side, like an excited puppy.
“Hello . . .” She glanced at the collar. “Ivy. That’s a very pretty name.” On cue, Ivy began to purr and butt her head against Gemma’s hand. “Aren’t you a friendly feline.”
“Ivy? How did you get in here?” said a man with salt-and-pepper hair, thin wire-rimmed glasses, and a blue striped shirt, his hands on his hips. Gemma stood and brushed the stray cat hairs off her jeans. “You’re supposed to be napping in the back, not exploring the front where you can knock things over.”
Blinking slowly, Ivy arched her back, scratched the carpet, and hopped up onto the glass counter next to the register. She tucked her paws in as if to say, “I know I’m not. But I’d like to see you try and get rid of me now that I’m here.”
The man sighed. “All my life I’ve been a dog man. Then, two years ago, I let my wife talk me into getting a cat and now Ivy runs our lives.” He absently scratched the cat’s head.
“She’s lovely.”
“She is. My wife and I can’t help but spoil her. She’s the daughter we never had.” Gemma and the man stared at Ivy for another moment before he turned his attention to her. “I’m sorry about not being here when you walked in. How can I help you today? Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“I’m not sure. I saw the shop and thought it could help me take my mind off some things.” Gemma scratched her forehead. “The, uh, bloke I’m dating loves comics and said they’re the best way to escape the world. I think I’d like to see if I can find a series I’d be interested in reading. And maybe something special for him too.” She stared at the packed shelves. “I have no idea what he already owns, or where to even start.”
“I can try and offer you a little guidance.” The man adjusted his glasses. “I’m not as up to date with the new comics these days, but I’m well versed in the classics like Superman and the X-Men.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“Let’s take care of you first. What types of tropes do you enjoy reading about?”
“For tropes, my favorite stories are romances with enemies to lovers, secret identities, or grumpy and sunshine couples, but I don’t think that would be of much help with finding a comic book.”
“You’d be surprised.” The owner chuckled. “I find that asking a person about what tropes they enjoy is more effective than asking what types of characters they like.” Walking along the rows, they stopped in front of a section of books that were thicker than an average comic book. “Have you ever read any of the Sailor Moon manga?”
Gemma shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard of it.”
“Let’s try this one and oh . . . this one.” Staring at the shelf a moment longer, he added one more to her pile. “Those should tick the enemies-to-lovers and secret-identity boxes. Now to see about a grumpy-sunshine book.”
Following him around the store, Gemma couldn’t believe how many different titles they stocked. It seemed that they carried just as many as a traditional bookstore. It wasn’t long before she had a stack of eight titles.
“Your boyfriend might be a little trickier. You said he’s a collector?”
“Yes, he’s a fan of anything featuring self-made heroes, but Batman tops his list.” Gemma’s cheeks burned. “You don’t happen to know if there’s a sloth character, do you?”
The man lit up. “A sloth?”
“Uh-huh, my boyfriend also has a fondness for them.”
“That wouldn’t be Timmy would it?”
“Oh, yes. It would.”
“He’s one of my best customers. No sloths, but there’s a villain who’s named Penguin in the Batman series.” The man opened a glass case and ran his finger over a few books kept in plastic sleeves. “This comic is the first issue he appears in.”
He handed it to her. “December 1941? I hadn’t realized the series dated back that far.”
“Yes, off the top of my head, I think May 1939 was the first printing.”
For something so old, the colors on the comic appeared to still be bright and vibrant. The paper was pristine, and there were only a few creases on it. Her eyes bulged, however, upon seeing the orange price tag on the corner of the plastic sleeve. “Nine thousand dollars?” With two hands, she carefully set it on the shelf and took a step back.
“That’s the same reaction I had when my nephew explained the value of certain issues to me. We have a few Superman and Spiderman comics that are worth just as much.” The man’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “I can’t say I understand it, but he’s the one who stays up to date with the market and pricing. If it were up to me, I’d say these books are supposed to be enjoyed, not stay in plastic their entire lives.”
“I agree with you.” Gemma nodded. “Do you, er . . . have any more reasonably-priced Batman books you’d recommend, or another series?”
The man stroked his chin. “I’ll see what I can find, especially if it’s for Timmy. Somebody just came by and donated a bunch of comics that were sitting in their attic this morning. Give me a few minutes to go through what’s inside.”
“Take your time.”
“Help yourself to some coffee.” He disappeared behind the curtain.
Gemma sat in one of the oversized chairs in the corner of the shop, cracked open the top book in her stack, and began to skim through the pages. She became so engrossed in the reading that when the man returned, he startled her.
“It’s easy to get lost in a good story. I’m glad you found something that piqued your interest. Feel free to leave the ones that don’t appeal to you here and I’ll restock them later.” He gestured to the counter. “I managed to find something special. Here, have a look. If you think Tim will enjoy it, I’d be happy to give it to you free of charge.”
“Free?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “The comics aren’t in our inventory, and if they’re going to the home of a comic lover, I’m sure my nephew wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh my goodness, thank you so much.” She shot him a bright smile. “I don’t know what to say.”
The man walked behind the counter. “Just tell that boyfriend of yours to come on down to the shop with you again soon. It’s been too long since we’ve had a good chat.”
“I will, and I’d still like to buy all of these. I can see myself enjoying each one for a different reason.”
“Of course.” The man rang her up and placed the items into a paper bag.
“Thank you so much again for everything today . . . er, what’s your name?”
“I’m Hank.”
Her lips twitched as they shook hands. “Gemma. Nice to meet you.”
In the distance, she heard a woman’s voice call out to him. Hank sighed. “Looks like my wife needs some help. Is there anything else you need?”
She assured him she didn’t and waved goodbye to Hank and Ivy, her spirits much improved.
* * *
An hour later, she got a text from Tim.
Tim: Hey, Gemma-rella. How did the big appointment go?
Gemma: So-so.
Tim: That sounds ominous.
Gemma: It’s a torn labrum.
Tim: *Sad face emoji* I’m so sorry. How are you doing?
Gemma: I was upset earlier, but I’m a little more settled now.
Tim: Anything I can do to help or make you feel better?
Gemma: Seeing you would help. Would you mind if we met up later?
Tim: How about now?
Gemma: I thought you had a teacher’s meeting and a special baseball camp.
Tim: We just finished the meeting. Camp doesn’t start until five. You could even stay and watch tonight if you were serious about wanting to see what practices with the team look like. We can go out for a late dinner after.
Gemma: I’d like that.
Tim: Where are you now? I can come pick you up.
Gemma: Norma’s in downtown.
Tim: I’ll be there in five.
Gemma: Do you want a coffee as your reward?
Tim: Please and thank you.
Gemma: An almond milk caramel macchiato with an extra espresso shot?
Tim: *Thumbs up emoji*
Gemma: I’ll see you soon.
* * *
“The grand tour of the elementary school grounds concludes with the pièce de résistance: the playground, basketball courts, and baseball field.” Tim gestured to the open grassy area.
“It’s so different to see it during the daytime. Are all American elementary schools so big?”
“By this school district’s standards, Sequoia Valley Elementary is small. It’s one of the reasons they’ve decided to move the sixth graders to the new middle school next year.” He sighed. “We got the confirmation at the meeting today.”
Gemma’s face fell. “Tim, I’m so sorry. I knew how much you were hoping you could stay here.”
“It sucks, but everybody could see it was coming. I’d hoped the school board would listen to what we teachers had to say, but everything we do seems to fall on deaf ears.” He placed his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, that’s not something we need to delve into. Tell me about you. What are you thinking and feeling?”
“I’m confused and I’m scared.”
“About?”
“Do I take the surgery route? Or the non-surgery route? Do I contact Dreams on Ice and fill them in on what’s going on? Or do I just wait it out? They still haven’t offered me a contract for next year. Then there’s the question of if I’m even ready to retire. I thought I’d decided, but now I’m second-guessing everything.”
“That is a lot,” Tim said matter-of-factly. They walked over to one of the picnic tables and sat down. “From my own experience, you’ll be doing a lot of second-guessing for the foreseeable future.”
She sighed tiredly. “How did you know surgery was right for you?”
“With the rotator cuff, I didn’t have a choice. My shoulder kept popping in and out of its socket. I needed the operation to stabilize the joint. The Tommy John surgery was a little different. I didn’t have to have it. I was told that with the damage to my shoulder, my baseball days were significantly numbered no matter what I did.”
He drew a circle on the lid of his coffee cup and stared at it. “But teenaged me naively thought the doctors had no idea what they were talking about. I firmly believed I could be one of those rare exceptions to the rules. A medical marvel. I elected to go ahead with the UCL repair so I could give myself every possible chance of playing again.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.” He met her eyes. “I tried and I failed. I would’ve been upset with myself if I’d just given up. It made it much easier to be at peace with everything in the end.”
“I think that’s where my heart is too. As terrified as I am with the idea of having an operation, I’m more frightened that I’d never be able to skate again if the injury became worse. Like you, I want to give myself every possible chance to prolong my skating career.”
“It sounds like you’ve got your head wrapped around the treatment for your hip.”
“I guess I do.” She crossed her right leg over her left. “What do you think I should do about DOI? Do I tell them or not?”
Tim took another sip of coffee. “I think that you should be the one who tells the catcher which pitch to call.”
“Which means?”
“You should be the only one who gets to decide your future. If I were in your skates, I’d start by following up on that contract, then meditate and figure out what is going to make you most happy in the long run. I’d caution you not to ask too much advice from your friends or family. They’ll always keep your best interest at heart by offering you their two cents, but in the end, you need to be the one who’s happy with whatever the outcome is going to be. It’s your happiness. Your livelihood. Your future. Not anyone else’s. Having the words and opinions of others in your mind can emotionally influence you.”
“That’s a harsh assessment, don’t you think?” She blinked in surprise.
“Yes, it is. It is harsh, but it’s exactly what I would’ve wanted somebody to tell me if I were able to go back in time.”
Her lips twitched. Tim was being his open and honest self with her. She understood that he said exactly what he thought out of a place of concern and care for her. He didn’t want her to make a decision that she’d regret. He wanted to ensure that she’d be happy in the long-term. Everything he did was with her in mind.
Hearing you say something like this makes me fall even harder for you.
She finished her coffee, and aimed and tossed it into the rubbish bin.
“Nice shot.” He applauded.
“Do you mind if I have a go on the swings? It’s been ages since I played on a set.”
“Anything the princess wishes.” He linked his arm through hers, and they strolled over to the sandbox and swings. Tim bowed. “Milady.”
Giggling, she kicked off her flip-flops, and walked over to the nearest swing. Her feet sunk into the ground as she did so. Tim copied her, removing his own dress shoes and socks, and rolling up the legs of his trousers.
Moving behind Gemma, he wrapped his arms around her waist, gently pulled the swing back, and pushed her forward. A rush of air tickled her face as she glided forward and back. The metal of the chains creaked.
“Would you like to go a little higher?”
“Yes, please!”
Tim’s hands touched her waist and propelled her to her heights. As she sat on the swing, everything felt so carefree. She was weightless and as close to being able to fly as a superhero. Her heart soared, and in that moment, Gemma knew she was developing feelings for Tim that were deeper than anything she’d felt or experienced before.
