But as he ran onto the field, he knew he'd probably get distracted wondering how she'd react.
LIAM
LIAM SAT ON THE EXAM table in the training room, staring at his ankle as Andy used a rotary saw to remove his cast. He couldn't wait to be free. The countdown to cast removal had begun the day he'd had the thing put on. Six long weeks of awkward mobility and limited abilities and inconveniencing those around him.
The cast and wrappings removed, his foot, ankle, and leg were swollen and blotchy. "Is it supposed to look like that?"
"Totally normal. No need to worry. In a few days, the color should return to normal and the swelling in your leg and toes should decrease, but your ankle and foot will be swollen for a while."
"All right." He grabbed his phone and sent a picture of his leg to Slade, Dom, and Adam. They'd been gone for a week and still had a week to go in the road trip. He missed his friends.
Slade's response was a series of emojis starting with a thumbs-up and happy face and ending with a puking one.
Andy held up a black boot constructed of a hard shell with a soft inner area and Velcro straps. "You can start putting partial pressure on your foot since the bones looked good but I want you to wear this for two weeks. It provides support to the healing ankle."
"By putting pressure on my foot, do you mean actual walking around?"
"Yes, start putting one foot in front of the other while using the crutches and wearing the boot." Andy narrowed his eyes. "I know you, Liam. Don't overdo it. If you push too hard, you're going to end up injuring the ankle again. You haven't used the muscles or tendons for a while, so it's going to ache and be swollen."
He could deal with achy and swollen. "When do you think I'll be back to my usual antics?"
"It depends. If the swelling decreases enough that you can put on a sneaker when I see you in two weeks, you can get started with physical therapy then. If not, it'll mean a few more weeks in the boot. I'll evaluate you again after six weeks of therapy to test your readiness to return to the job. But a return to full participation in sports and work activities generally occurs twelve to sixteen weeks after an ankle fracture, so don't get your hopes up if at the end of June, I still think you need another month or so of therapy."
"Got it, doc. But there's a good chance I could be back to normal by the All-Star break, right?"
Andy sighed. "Liam. I'm thrilled that you've been taking recovery so seriously, but you can't rush it. Doing so would be a mistake that you'd pay for a long time. Remember, when the injury happened, I cautioned that it could take months for you to regain full strength and range of motion."
"I know. I know." He didn't want to hear about that again. Any timetable greater than the All-Star game in mid-July was unacceptable. With the Riptide hosting the game, the team wanted to do everything possible to ensure a successful fan experience. And that included having Liam back and at his best.
"Some patients have weakness and mobility issues for up to two years after a bad break."
Stop, stop, stop. The very idea turned his stomach. "But this wasn't a bad break, Andy. I can't take two years to get back to normal. The team won't let me keep my job that long if I can't do it. They'd replace me."
"We don't know what's going to happen. The ankle is healing well, but you're not returning to a desk job. You're returning to a physically demanding one that will test your ankle with every move you make. All I'm saying is that we need to be cautious, but I hope you'll be back on the field by the middle of July."
"I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen."
"I know you will. My concern is that you'll overdo it." Andy set his foot in the boot and tightened the straps. "Take the boot off two or three times a day to ice the ankle."
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, let's see you stand on it."
Liam swallowed the fear that the ankle would snap again and he'd go down. Andy held out his crutches. He grabbed them and eased off the table. His ankle hurt. He took a tentative step. The sole and heel of his foot tingled, like little electrical pinpoints.
"Looking good. How does it feel?"
"Great." Liam pasted on a smile.
"So, in other words, it hurts." Andy shook his head. "Liam, I'm honest with you. You need to be honest with me. I'm on your side here."
"I know. And you're right, it's sore and my foot is tingly."
"That part will go away in a few days."
"Okay, cool." He walked carefully, using the crutches to support his weight. "Am I free to go now, Doc?"
"I'll see you in two weeks. Stop in or call if you need me."
Liam shook his hand and then began the slow journey down the hall.
If he didn't heal properly or fast enough, he wouldn't be able to keep his job. What the hell else was he going to do? For the first time, he regretted his theater degree. Maybe he should've chosen something as normal and boring as Claire had with accounting. Where else besides being a mascot would acrobatics and juggling be marketable skills? Maybe he'd have to end up running away and joining the circus after all.
Laughing at the thought, he climbed into the golf cart and headed to his office.
Claire was there, pulling on her costume when he arrived. "Hey, you got your cast off. Whoa, and you're walking. That's great."
"Yep. Andy says it's healing well." He picked up his costume from where she'd laid it on the couch. "A few weeks with the boot and crutches, and then we'll
