Page 10

CHAPTER

FOUR

DEAN

My heart is racing out of my chest, but by the looks of me, no one would know it. With my hand on the JV coach, Steven’s shoulder, I go through the predetermined protocol should this situation occur.

“You coach it, pull Davidson from the bench and get his arm warm, alright?” I give his shoulder a squeeze, and his eyes lift from the spineboard where Tanner is lying, finally coming back to me.

“Hey, keep everyone calm and positive, finish the game. I’ll call you as soon as I know something, and for tonight, don’t let the boys come down to the hospital.

Okay? Let’s make sure it’s nothing too serious before we do that. ”

Steven nods, shaken up. We’ve had injuries on the field, both in practices and games before. But tonight was different, and though we all know it, I don’t point that out. I give him another stern look. “It’s going to be okay. Alright?”

He just nods, and I leave him there to process as I motion toward the paramedic who’s waiting for my OK to drive on the field.

He waves back, driving his unit over the white 20 yard line slowly, heading toward us.

When it stops, the back doors pop open and two young men dressed in black, collared long-sleeved shirts and cargo pants hop out.

One of them drags out a gurney, and raises it up.

“Tanner!” a frantic but soft voice pierces through the chaos of the moment, echoing in my chest. I turn to see Clara June Colt running across the field in her Goode’s Diner uniform, long waves everywhere as I step between her and the paramedics, now lifting the backboard onto the stretcher.

She looks past me to her boy, and I take notice of the tears on her cheeks, and her uneven, panicked breathing.

I put my hands on her shoulders, and hold her eyes with mine. Even in this moment, her beauty threatens to steal my breath. Wide blue eyes fogged with panic stare up at me, waiting to hear that it’s going to be okay, that her son is going to be fine, that everything is going to work itself out.

I wish more than anything I could tell her that, but I don’t know.

Not yet. He was out for a few minutes, and I’m no doctor, but I know that ain’t good.

“He’s awake now, Clara June. The ambulance is here, we’re headed straight to Bluebell Hospital.

We’re gonna figure out what’s what, and everything’s going to be okay,” I tell her slowly, cautiously, noticing the way her shoulders soften just slightly at my words, like I did bring her some comfort.

Not a ton, but at this moment, the only person who can is a doctor.

“I’m going with him,” she says, “I’m riding with him.” Her eyes search mine. “Please.”

I nod at the paramedic, making sure this is okay. “Just the two of you,” he says before returning his focus to the black nylon straps over Tanner’s body. The medic looks at Clara June. “Are you mom? You can come talk to him now. He’s all secure.”

They take their care getting the gurney into the back of the ambulance, and as they do, I take a minute to look around the packed stadium.

Near silence. Everyone on their feet, cowboy hats draped over their hearts, everyone waiting, everyone unified in their hope for this kid to be okay.

I tip my hat to the crowd, and climb into the ambulance after Clara June, who is helped inside by one of the paramedics.

When he pulls the doors closed, we’re left in the artificially lit box, Clara June leaning over Tanner, both palms pressed to his cheeks as she whispers promises and things that only a mom can say.

“Everything’s going to be okay, okay? You’re okay. You weren’t out too long. You’re okay. You know who you are and where you are, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I love you. You were playing so well. You’re going to be okay.”

Tanner only barely nods, due to the white neck brace currently rendering him virtually motionless.

“I feel… my head hurts,” he says slowly, and I tug off my hat and slide down the metal bench toward Tanner, opposite the side of his head as his mama.

The paramedic writes in a chart, checking his vitals .

“Coach,” Tanner rasps, wincing a little in pain as the ambulance takes the curb out of the stadium.

I squeeze his hand, and realize then that Clara June has one hand, and I have the other.

I look at her, studying her boy with tears on her cheeks and a reaffirming smile on her lips.

I didn’t quite realize how hard this moment must be for her until now.

She’s got a whole list of worries and fears in her heart, but for her boy, she has to be strong, happy and positive.

I want to be able to promise them both that it will be okay, but I can’t.

Instead, I squeeze Tanner’s hand and tell him what I do know.

“Bumped your head pretty good out there, and by the looks of it, you may have disrupted that collar bone, too.”

Tanner’s lips pull up on the end, in the tiniest of smiles. “Least I didn’t hurt my arm,” he teases gently, earning a soft laugh from Clara June. I smile at him.

“Hell, son, when I said protect the arm at all costs, I didn’t mean in favor of your head,” I tease him, earning another small smile from him and Clara June.

I squeeze his hand again. “I think you’re gonna be okay.

The school wants to make sure you didn’t hurt anything too bad, so until we can do that, you not being able to move is just a precaution.

” I tap the neck brace. “Keeps you safe until we know more.”

Tanner’s nod is tiny. “Okay.” He looks at his mom.

“I’m scared that scouts will lose interest, and I’ll lose my scholarship,” he rasps, emotion vibrating in his fatigued tone.

I feel like I’m third-wheel to a private moment of fear that a son shares with his mother, where he can safely divulge his darkest and most private thoughts.

I let go of Tanner’s hand and watch them.

Clara June strokes her fingers down his forearm, smiling, using her other hand to mess with his hairline.

Her casually touching him brings him peace, I can see it in the way his eyes settle some, and his breathing evens out a bit.

“So let’s say that happens. Let’s say you broke your football bone and you can’t play.

” She blinks at her boy, wearing such a calm smile that part of me calms, too.

“Then you have a wonderful life doing something else. You go to college and focus on classes instead of sports, and that’s all that changes. ”

“But the scholarship–” Tanner starts to argue, but Clara June shushes him quietly.

“Don’t borrow worry, T. We don’t know what tonight means for tomorrow. But what we do know is that you’re awake, you’re breathing, you’re talking, and you’re okay. You are and will be okay, no matter what.”

This answer satisfies him, and without another look my way, he closes his eyes, and his eyes stay closed for the rest of the drive.

I watch Clara June watching her boy, holding his hand and stroking his arm the entire time.

When the ambulance arrives in the bay out front, her eyes shift to mine, like she’s only just remembered I’m there.

She’s been so intently focused on her son, and something about that kind of love and focus makes me in awe of her, really.

Her ability to stay calm, and say all the right things.

“Thank you, you know, for making him feel better,” she says to me after the paramedics lift the gurney out, and start rolling Tanner inside. I help her out of the unit and we follow after Tanner, behind the paramedics filling in doctors.

“I think that was all you.”

“We’re going to have to stop right here,” a man wearing green scrubs and white coat says to us. I look at the navy embroidery on his jacket. Dr. Denton. He looks between the two of us. “Parents?” he asks, wagging the end of his pen between us.

Clara June’s hand falls over her chest. “Mom, I’m mom. What’s the first thing you’re going to do? How long before we know anything?”

“Well,” Dr. Denton says, flipping through the notes passed to him by the paramedic.

“From what I hear, your son took a pretty good hit, but Jonathan—” he glances at the paramedic signing papers at a nurse’s station.

“He tells me that his GCS score indicates a mild concussion and his pupillary reflexes are good, so those are promising indicators. As soon as we get him X-rays and a CT and know for certain that his cervical spine is okay, then we’ll move on to a more in-depth physical and neurological exam.

Probably no need for an MRI, but we'll know more after the CT and exam.”

I watch Clara June, intently listening, worry appearing on her face more intensely now, her brows drawn together as she nods along. I’m worried about Tanner—I can only imagine how she must be feeling.

A nurse calls for Dr. Denton, and he starts pacing backward. “We’ll update you as soon as we can, Mrs. Colt.”

The double doors swoosh, and Tanner, along with the commotion, is gone.

My cell buzzes, and I see it’s Jake calling. I glance at Clara June, knowing full well that her older boy dates Jake’s daughter, and I wonder where her other sons are.

“Hello?” I answer, as Clara June digs around in her purse, finding her own phone. I listen to Jake, but watch Clara June read through messages.

“How’s he doing?” Jake asks, concern making his tone a bit quieter than usual. “Rawley’s here, told him he can stay the night if he needs. Is Clara June with you?”

“She’s here, yeah,” I reply, still watching her as she swipes at tears without acknowledging them, her hands flying over her digital keyboard. “I’ll tell her. ”

There’s a moment of quiet on the line, and my friend asks, “He was out over a minute… is he okay?”