Once the call ended he left the stall, moving to the sink to wash his hands. Staring at himself in the mirror, he practiced a big smile. There was no way he could let his family know how hard this decision was to make. As far as they were concerned, everything was working out just as he’d hoped.
“Clint! What’s taking you so long? Are you sick?” Rowan stood in the open door of the bathroom.
“I’m coming.” He followed his brother out, his hand on Rowan’s shoulder. As soon as he was at the edge of the dining room, he lifted his fist in triumph.
“I just agreed to play for the Houston Texans. I’m a pro!”
As his family and friends cheered, Clint sought peace in his heart.
He’d put his family first. He’d made the right decision.
Two days later… April 28th, 2012 – Two Storms Collide
Jensen put her foot on the brake to stop at the crosswalk in front of the McLane Student Center. She’d come to the main Baylor campus in Waco to deliver a paper copy of her dissertation to her favorite professor. Even though he was nearing seventy, Dr. Dickens still taught the best Biological Science course in the nation. She credited him for encouraging her to follow her dream. He’d helped her work through what her focus should be. Initially, probably because of her mother, oncology was her first choice. Yet when her father’s condition deteriorated, and no could give her a straight answer as to why – Jensen changed her mind. Breast cancer research was widespread and well-funded. The same wasn’t true with CTE. Even though the disease was real, the case studies compelling, and the research findings powerful – there were still deniers who sought to put lucrative sports above the safety of its players. Jensen longed to change this dynamic.
As she waited for several students to pass by, she picked up a paper towel from the console to wipe the condensation from the inside of the windshield. Rain was pouring down in dense gray sheets. She let out a gasp of amused dismay as one girl turned in circles, fighting with her umbrella as it threatened to turn inside out in the heavy wind. Jensen was just about to let her foot off the brake when a guy came rushing through the crosswalk, holding his backpack over his head.
As her eyes followed his progress, time seemed to slow to a crawl. This was one of those moments when you could see disaster coming but there was no time to stop it. As the pedestrian passed in front of her car, a vehicle traveling in the other lane came barreling down on top of him. The man pivoted, attempting to get out of harm’s way, but the vehicle sideswiped him, knocking him to the ground. She saw his head strike the pavement with considerable force.
“Oh, no!” Without a moment’s hesitation, Jensen threw open her door and rushed out into the rain. The man was lying flat on the pavement when she reached him, his eyes shut, his face contorted. “I’m a doctor. Just lie still. I’ll call 9-1-1.” She pulled her phone from her pocket, about to press the key.
“No. No. I’m fine.” He opened his eyes to stare at her face. “God, you’re beautiful. You look like a young Grace Kelly and I love Grace Kelly.”
Jensen shook her head. “You must’ve hit your head pretty hard.”
Clint touched her hand holding the phone. “Please. Don’t call anyone.” Brushing aside her concern, he sat up and wiped the rain from his face. “I’m not hurt.”
With a hand on his chest, Jensen shook her head. She’d seen how fast the other car was moving. “You need to be checked out; you took a hard lick. I’m sure adrenaline is rushing through your system. You might not even realize you’re injured.”
Before he could respond, the lights of another car appeared, approaching at a fast rate of speed. Clint held his breath as the small woman jumped up and threw herself in its path, arms raised, shielding him from danger. Rising quickly to his feet, he grasped his little champion around the waist and pulled her out of the path of oncoming traffic. “Let’s get out of the street. You’re getting drenched. Besides, you’re going to get yourself killed jumping in front of cars that way.”
“The idiot should’ve stopped. It’s a crosswalk,” she grumbled. “This spot needs a red light.”