game. He was the last one chosen for the team. If finally picked, he then had to deal with the ridicule of being the worst player. He learned quickly not to show any weakness. As a medical student and now a surgeon, the honed trait served him well.
Football, freezing weather and a laughing woman, no matter how attractive she was, were not to his taste. He needed to do this consultation and get back to Florida.
* * *
Melanie couldn’t help but find humor in the situation. Dr. Reynolds’ long legs carried him at such a brisk pace, she had trouble staying in the lead enough to show him where the car was parked. He must be freezing. Niagara Falls was not only known for the falls but for the horrible winter weather. What planet did he live on that he hadn’t come prepared?
She pushed the button on her key fob, unlocking the car door as they approached so that he wouldn’t have to wait any longer than necessary outside. Minutes later she had the car started and the heat blasting on high. She glanced at her passenger. He took a great deal of space in her small car. Almost to the point of overwhelming her. Why was he affecting her so? Melanie glanced at him. Judging by the tenseness of his square jaw, he must be gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering.
“I’m sure it’ll be warm in a few minutes.”
An mmm sound of acknowledgement came from his direction as Melanie pulled out into the evening traffic on the freeway.
Her phone rang. “Please excuse me. This may be the office about Rocket.” She pushed the hands-free button. “This is Mel.”
“Rocket is on his way back.” Her father’s booming voice filled the car.
“Great. I’m sure Dr. Reynolds will be glad to hear that. We should be there in about thirty minutes.” Her father hung up and she asked her passenger, “Have you ever been to Niagara Falls?”
“No.”
“Well, the falls are a beautiful sight any time of the year, but especially now with the snow surrounding them.”
“I don’t think I’ll be here long enough to do much sightseeing.”
“It doesn’t take much to say you’ve seen the falls. They’re pretty large.”
“What I came for is to see Mr. Overtree, so I imagine I should focus on that.” Obviously he wasn’t much for small talk or the local sights. Melanie stopped making an effort at conversation and concentrated on driving in the thickening snow and slow traffic. With her heavier clothes on, she began to get too warm but didn’t want to turn down the heat for fear Dr. Reynolds needed it.
They were not far from the team camp when he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a female team doctor before.”
She’d long ago become used to hearing that statement. With a proud note in her voice she said, “As far as I know, I’m the only one in the NFL.”
“What made you want to be a sports doctor?”
His voice, she bet, had mesmerized more than one woman. Where had that idea come from? What was his question? “I wanted to be a part of the world of football.”
What it did was make her feel included. She’d grown up without a mother, a coach for a father and three brothers who now played professional football. In her family if you didn’t eat, drink and live football you were left out. As a girl she couldn’t play, so by becoming the team doctor she took her place as part of the team. Even when it wasn’t her heart’s desire. “Team means everything, Mel,” her father would say. “That’s what we are—a team.” He would then hug her. To get his attention she learned early on what she needed to do as part of the team. As she grew older the pressure to be a team member grew and became harder to live with.
She often wondered what her father would say if she confessed she didn’t want to belong to a team any longer. Sometimes she’d like to just be his daughter. She was afraid of what the repercussions might be. Still she would have to say she was happy, wouldn’t she?
Melanie pulled the car into her designated parking space in front of the two-story, glass-windowed building. “Leave your bag in the car. I’ll take you to the hotel after we’re through here.”
Dr. Reynolds nodded and climbed out. He wasn’t large like some of the players but he did look like a man who could hold his own in a fight. With those wide shoulders and trim hips, he appeared physically fit.
“This way,” she said as they entered the lobby. The space was built to impress. With hardwood floors, bright lights and the Currents’ mascot and bolt of lightning painted on the wall, the place did not disappoint. No matter how many times Melanie entered this direction, she had a moment of awe. She enjoyed her job, liked the men she worked with and loved the passion of the crowd when the Currents took the field to play.
Dr. Reynolds followed her through security and down the hall to the elevator. There they waited in silence until the doors opened and they entered. She pushed the button that would take them to the bottom floor where the Athlete Performance Area and her office were located. When the elevator opened she led him along a hall painted with different football players making moves. “Rocket should be back here.”
The team had a state-of-the-art workout facility, from whirlpool and sauna to a walking pool and all the other equipment on the market to help improve the human body. She was proud of the care she was able to provide for the men. Two years ago she had instituted a wellness program for retired players who continued to live nearby.
She pushed open the double swinging doors and entered her domain. Here she normally had the final say.
Rocket was already there, sitting on the exam table. Wearing practice shorts and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut out of it, he looked like the football player he was. What didn’t show was the injury to his knee and his importance to the Currents winning a trip to the Super Bowl.
She pulled off her coat. “Rocket, sorry to pull you back in but Dr. Reynolds wanted to see you right away.” Turning to Dr. Reynolds, she said, “This is Rocket—or Martin Overtree. Rocket, Dr. Reynolds.”
The two men shook hands.
“Thanks for coming, Doc,” Rocket said. “Mel says you’re the man to help keep me on the field.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ll need to examine you first.” Dr. Reynolds pulled off his coat.
“I’ll take that,” Melanie offered and draped it over a chair in the corner.
The doctor rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing tanned arms with a dusting of dark hair. Using his foot, he pulled a rolling stool from where it rested near the exam table. He straddled it and rolled to the end of the table. “I’m going to do some movements and I want you to tell me when or if they hurt and where.”
Melanie watched as the doctor placed his large hands on either side of the huge running back’s dark-skinned knee. With more patience than he’d shown at the airport, he examined it. Rocket grunted occasionally when Dr. Reynolds moved his knee a certain way.
The doctor pushed with his heels, putting space between him and the patient. “Now, Mr. Overtree—”
“Make it Rocket. Everyone else does.”
Dr.
