Lucky Lifeguard (River's End Ranch Book 28) Read online

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the button. She might be the most stubborn person she knew, but she wasn’t going to stand there at the bottom of her steps all day, in pain and looking like a dork.

  “Um, hi, Joey.”

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Are you busy?”

  “Not particularly. Just hanging out in the break room until our next swim.”

  “Could you . . . well, I need some help.” She closed her eyes. This was so embarrassing, she didn’t even want to see herself say it. “I’m sort of stuck at my cabin, and I need to get over to the spa.”

  “On my way.” He hung up, and she exhaled with relief. Now she just had to hang on to the stair rail for a few minutes, and she could do that.

  When Joey arrived, he was riding a four-wheeler, which he parked right in front. “I didn’t know what you meant by ‘stuck,’ so I thought I’d come prepared,” he said, holding up a coil of rope.

  She laughed, even though the pain was getting worse. “Were you going to tie the rope around my waist and pull me over to the spa?”

  He shrugged. “Rope is a very good thing to grab when you aren’t sure what all you might need.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “I don’t think we’ll need the rope, but I do appreciate the four-wheeler. I’ve done something to my knee, and this was as far as I could get.”

  Joey glanced around. “Where are your parents?”

  “I don’t know, but we don’t need to bother them.”

  He shrugged again, and she could see that he wasn’t entirely satisfied with her answer, but he didn’t press. Instead, he said, “Well, hop on. Or should I say, hobble on. And I don’t think you should try for astride—side saddle works fine.”

  He supported her while she took the three hesitant steps toward the four-wheeler, then climbed on in front of her. “Hold on,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m going to take this really slow so you don’t slide off.”

  “Much appreciated. I don’t think I’d enjoy that very much.”

  They rode over to the spa, a distance so short that it only took a minute, and then he supported her while she slid off. “Can you walk inside, or would it be better if I carried you?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Carried me? Do you see blood spurting everywhere? Is my leg dangling from one sinew?”

  “Is that how bad it would have to be first?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Just let me hold on to you like I have been.”

  “Okay. You know where your limits are.”

  “Yes, and being carried is way, way over them.”

  She was put in an exam room immediately, and they only had to wait a minute or two for Dr. Michelle. “What on earth have you done to yourself?” she asked when she came in.

  “I was lying on my bed, and then I stood up, and something popped, and here I am. Oh, and Joey wanted to tie me on top of the four-wheeler, but I told him no.”

  “That’s completely not true,” he protested.

  Dr. Michelle smiled. “All right, let’s see what’s going on here. Joey, can you wait outside, please?” Once the door was closed, she felt around Chelsea’s knee, poking some really painful spots. “Hmm. You’re pretty inflamed. I’m going to grab an ice pack, and we can elevate and ice it while we talk. We need to get the swelling down so I can see what else is going on in there.”

  Talk? Talk about what? The way she’d said that, Chelsea didn’t think she meant casual chitchat. This sounded more serious.

  Dr. Michelle had Chelsea lie back on some pillows, then she arranged her leg just so and put the ice pack on it. “There now,” she said, pulling the stool closer. “Where are your parents today?”

  “I’m not sure. I think they might be rafting.”

  Dr. Michelle nodded. “Listen, Miss Chelsea. I know that there are a whole lot of things that aren’t my business, but there are a whole lot of things that are, and when something’s hurting your body, I need to ask about it. I’m only trying to help you heal.”

  “You sound kind of . . . ominous,” Chelsea said, giving a nervous chuckle. “What do you want to know?”

  Dr. Michelle crossed her legs and rested her arms on her top knee. “You’ve only been in here once so far, so I can’t claim to know everything, but I’ve picked up on some definite tension between you and your parents. There’s also something going on between you and school, and then another thing going on between you and Joey. Your body is carrying a great deal of stress, and if you don’t start getting some of this worked out, you’re going to do damage to yourself. Even more damage.”

  “You’re saying that my emotions are showing up in my body?”

  “That’s right. I know it sounds weird, but that’s how these things work. You are an entire unit—your mind, spirit, and body. If one part of you is out of whack, it influences the other parts.”

  Chelsea pulled in a long breath. “Yeah, well, you could say that I’m pretty out of whack all over the place.” Without any warning whatsoever, tears started running down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

  Dr. Michelle handed her a tissue. “Do what anymore, Miss Chelsea?”

  “This whole perfect daughter thing.” She wiped her eyes, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good because the tears were still coming. “It’s this crazy balance between looking right and acting right and performing academically and performing in the pool. I have to be perfect all the time or they don’t have any use for me. I keep telling myself that I have to be patient with them because that’s how they were raised, but this isn’t fair. It isn’t right.”

  Dr. Michelle nodded. “You’re doing a good thing by trying to see this from their perspective and understand why they’re doing it, but you’re right—this isn’t how it should be. Their parents shouldn’t have put those kinds of expectations on them, and they shouldn’t have put them on you.”

  She paused for a moment as if remembering. “I saw a talk show once years ago about something similar, and one key point stood out to me. Our parents instill in us certain things as we grow up, and then when we reach adulthood, we must go through and decide which of those things to keep and which to discard. It’s like weeding a garden and maybe choosing tulips instead of daffodils. Your parents could have chosen to weed out this need for perfectionism, but they allowed it to grow. What are you going to keep in your garden, Miss Chelsea?”

  “Not this. Absolutely not this.” Chelsea felt as though a giant hand had reached into her chest and was squeezing it. “What can I do about it?”

  “I’d say that you start right here and right now and start weeding that garden. You’re an adult—you don’t have to wait until you’re a parent yourself to start. You decide what you want for yourself. But here’s the hard part.”

  Chelsea grimaced. “I knew there was a hard part.”

  “There always is a hard part. That’s how we grow.” Dr. Michelle patted her shoulder. “You need to get honest with yourself, and then you need to sit down with your parents and be honest with them. And then you have to act on whatever you decide is true for you.”

  Chelsea pressed the palms of her hands into her eye sockets. “You aren’t asking for much, are you?”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not the one asking for it. You are. Your muscles are tense, your pupils are huge, and your pulse is rapid—I’ve been watching it there on your throat this whole time. And that’s just what I’ve observed sitting here—I’m willing to bet that if I ran some tests, I’d find that your adrenals are shutting down. Now, I’m not going to run that test—I’m just telling you what I think I’d find.”

  “I do push a lot and feel like I’m not getting anywhere,” Chelsea admitted. “I just thought it was because I wasn’t strong enough.”

  Dr. Michelle exhaled sharply. “Oh, good grief. We’re going to change that mindset right now. Your body can only do so much. Your mind can only do so much. Your spirit . . . well, you get the message. You are exhausted, Chelsea, and you have g
ot to look at your life and reorganize it. You have to decide what you really want and then pull back on everything else. Trust me—this is what you need.”

  Chelsea nodded. She could feel the truth of what Dr. Michelle was saying, even though she didn’t like it. Talking to her parents . . . that was going to be rough. Deciding what she really wanted . . . that was going to be hard too. Which of her dreams were really hers, and which were her parents’?

  Dr. Michelle stood up and checked the ice pack. “I’m going to bring in the portable ultrasound machine and see if we can take a gander at your knee. If that doesn’t work, we’ll x-ray it. I have a sneaking suspicion that I know what’s going on, but first, a question. How much are you exercising it?”

  “I’m swimming two hours at a time, three times a day.”

  “And in between?”

  “I stretch and do flex and extensions while I’m doing other things, like studying.”

  Dr. Michelle tilted her head to the side. “So basically you’re exercising it all the time?”

  “I’m moving it a lot, but I don’t know if it’s all the time.”

  “Honey, you’re working it to death. You’ve got to give it time to heal.” She exhaled and shook her head. “I just want to wrap you up in a blanket and tell you to sleep for a million years. That’s how badly you need rest. For now, though, let’s get that ultrasound and see what we can find out.”

  Chelsea closed her eyes and allowed a few more tears to dribble out while she waited. She felt as though her chest had been ripped open and grated, but at the same time, she felt relief and gratitude. Maybe she could finally stop running on this hamster wheel.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joey was getting worried. Chelsea had been back there with Dr. Michelle for a long time, and he wondered if she was hurt worse than she’d let on. She’d always been the kind who didn’t show how she was really feeling. That made it hard to give her the help she needed.

  When the door opened and she finally came out, she was wearing a knee brace and supporting herself on crutches. Dr. Michelle was right behind her.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she said to Joey before he could ask. “I’ve just got her stabilizing it for now. She can tell you the rest if she wants to.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Michelle,” Chelsea said over her shoulder. “Not just for the brace, but for the talk.”

  “Not a problem. I hope you’ll think about it.”

  “I’m thinking about it a lot, and I know you’re right.”

  Joey helped Chelsea back outside and to balance on the four-wheeler, and then he drove her even more carefully back to the cabin. Once she was inside and settled on the couch, he sat across from her.

  “So, what’s going on with all this?” he asked, motioning at her knee. “Am I fired?”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure.”

  His stomach sank. “What do you mean?”

  She looked away, over toward the window that faced the mountains. “I’ve got a lot of soul-searching to do, and some decisions to make. In the meantime, I need to rest my knee for a day. I didn’t tear it again, but I did aggravate it, and I need to be nicer to it.”

  Joey nodded. He’d wondered if she was pushing herself too hard, but he also knew that she wasn’t going to take advice from him, so he hadn’t made a big deal out of it. “So, how can I help?”

  She blinked and turned to face him. “You want to help?”

  “Of course I do.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Listen, Chelsea. Things didn’t work out between us, but I still care about you. You were the most important thing in my life for a long time, and feelings like that don’t just disappear. Tell me how I can help you.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “Just keep being you, okay? You really are the kindest person I’ve ever known—don’t ever change.”

  That wasn’t at all what he’d expected her to say, but it warmed his heart. “Okay. One unchanging Joey, coming up.”

  “And maybe . . . maybe you could come back over tonight and watch a movie with me? I mean, since you don’t have to be out at the pool now?”

  “Absolutely, and I’ll bring movie snacks.” He stood up, recognizing her hint that it was time for him to go. “Do you have everything you need for right now?”

  “Maybe you could grab me a bottle of water from the kitchen? And then I’ll just take a nap right here.”

  He got her the water, made sure she had her phone, and clarified what time he should come back later. As he walked out of the cabin, he was worried about her knee, but he felt better about her—and about their relationship—than he had in a long, long time.

  ***

  Chelsea stared at her phone, wondering if she should send the text she’d just typed out. It was simple, just asking her parents to come back and saying that she needed to talk to them. Her thoughts and her feelings were rolling around inside her and she needed to get them out, but she didn’t know if it was best to do it now or to wait. If she did it now, she might be too sharp and too emotional, but if she waited, she might lose the courage to do it at all.

  She finally hit send and settled back to wait.

  Half an hour later, her parents entered the cabin, carrying takeout Chinese. When Chelsea smelled it, she realized she hadn’t eaten for a while, but she also realized that until she said what was on her mind, she wasn’t likely to be able to eat.

  Her mother set the sacks she was carrying on the table. “We got orange chicken, because we know you like that, and we also . . . Chelsea! What happened?”

  “What? What’s the matter?” Her father turned and looked at her as well. “A knee brace? Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Sort of.” Chelsea told them what had happened and that she needed to rest it for a day. “But Mom, Dad, there’s more. Can I talk to you for a minute? Seriously?”

  They looked at each other, then came and sat down. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” her dad asked.

  Now that she had their undivided attention, which was something rare and unusual, she found it hard to pull up the words. Maybe if she brought the doctor into it, that would help.

  “I spent a lot of time talking to Dr. Michelle today, and she helped me see some things that I should have seen before. I need to make some changes in my life, and I’d like your support in it.”

  “What kind of changes?” her mother asked, worry lines appearing between her eyebrows.

  “Well, for starters, I need to tell you something. My grades really slipped last semester, and the university says I’m in danger of losing my scholarship.”

  “We’ll get a tutor, and I’ll talk to the dean,” her father replied immediately. “With as much money as we’ve donated to that school, I’m sure there are some exceptions that can be made.”

  “That’s just it, Dad,” Chelsea said, holding up her hand. “I don’t want an exception made. My grades were slipping because I wasn’t doing the work. I deserve the marks I got.”

  “I don’t understand,” her mother said. “Why weren’t you doing the work?”

  “Because I’ve been spending so much time focusing on swimming. And when I’m not swimming, I’m going to functions with you and helping with your charity events. I’m exhausted, and I’ve got to make some changes. Dr. Michelle says I’m hurting my body and that I need to pull back.”

  “Dr. Michelle doesn’t understand what it takes to be a world-class athlete,” her father said. “She’s probably used to dealing with arthritis and lumbago, not people who are in training for the Olympics. They’re entirely different.”

  “Do people still get lumbago?” her mother asked. “I rather thought that was kind of an old-fashioned thing.”

  “I don’t know, actually,” he replied. “My grandmother had it, but she was kind of an old-fashioned thing herself.”

  Chelsea sighed. “I think we’ve lost the thread of this conversation.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t understand what you’re
trying to say.” Her mother smoothed her hands on the knees of her perfect jeans.

  “I’m trying to say that I’m not sure what I really want anymore, and that I’m chasing all these things without knowing if they’re really what’s going to make me happy. And if I’m going to put all this time and energy into them, shouldn’t they make me happy? Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  “You’re on your way to the Olympics, Chelsea. You’re on a full-ride scholarship to a fantastic school. You have wealth and position—a place in society. Why isn’t that enough to make you happy? What more could you possibly want?” Her mother stood up, looking genuinely upset. “This . . . this is so selfish. After everything we’ve done to get you to this point, you want more?”

  Chelsea wanted to cry. This was exactly the reaction she feared. Her first inclination was to apologize and then to pretend that she hadn’t said anything, but then she’d end up exactly where she had been. She took a deep breath. She’d come this far—it was time to go the rest of the way. “No, Mom. I’m saying I want less.”

  “Less? I don’t understand.”

  Chelsea wished she could stand up and put her arms around her mother. Being able to stand up at all would be nice. “I don’t need the fancy college and the parties and society. I’m not even sure that I need the Olympics. I just want to be a girl, and I just want to be a family.”

  “We are a family,” her father interjected. “How are we not a family?”

  “I hardly see you at all during the week, and then for a few hours on Sundays. We don’t do things together, and we hardly ever talk. Do you realize this is the first actual conversation we’ve had in . . . oh, wow. I don’t even know. Years.”

  Her mother sat back down, tears rimming her eyes. “So . . . what do you want?”

  “I want for us to have family dinner together once or twice a week. I want to talk about what’s going on in our lives and share our feelings. I want to feel like I know who the two of you are as people, not just my parents.”

  “That . . . that sounds nice,” her mother said, wiping her cheeks.

  Chelsea took courage from that and kept going. “And I want to pull back on my classes and take fewer at a time so I can get the most out of each of them. It doesn’t do me any good to go full time if I’m not learning.”