He stood in the corner watching her. She had her blonde hair up in its customary ponytail and her trademark light blue tights. Her legs were well muscled from the years of gymnastic training. Standing just over five feet tall her blue eyes blazed an intensity and focus fueled by the events that happened just over four years ago. She should have been an Olympic gold medal winner. Instead a judge from the host country gave her such poor marks on a flawless floor exercise that she finished with a silver medal and not the coveted gold. The man had spent countless hours standing in the corner watching her. From practice to competition, he was there. It cost him his marriage because he wanted to be there for his daughter, but in retrospect the only good thing from the marriage was his little girl. He owned his own advertising firm, so thanks to modern day electronics he could literally work from anywhere. He was good at his job, and had a customer list that kept him busy and well compensated. He was tall and lean. He loved to run, and when he wasn't working or watching his daughter compete, he was running. Some of his best advertising campaigns were created on his runs. His dark hair was just beginning to gray at the temples, and he was told it made him distinguished. He thought it just made him look old. He decided that one failed marriage was enough, and he focused his time and energy on his work and helping his daughter become a world class gymnast. He had no lasting friendships or relationships since the divorce. A fling after a successful client signing was the sum total of his love life in the eight years since his wife took off, and he really didn't care.
He watched her move to the mat. She carried herself with a confidence that came from the years of constant training and competing. He felt the adrenaline pulse through his body as it always did as she got ready to do her routines. She was good and he was so very proud of her.
She made her way to the mat mentally running through her routine one more time. It was part of her mental preparation right before she went out there. Her eyes scanned for her father and found him in his usual place. To the right of the mat opposite of where she would enter he stood by himself. Always the same place, and always by himself as it had been ever since she started competing. A calm spread over her as it always did right before she stepped on the mat. She had trained harder than ever before for this meet. A top three finish and she was going back to the Olympics. She knew at 18 she was considered old, but the anger and hurt she felt at that bitch who scored her routine down in the Olympics kept her motivated to get there again. While everyone said she was robbed, it did not change the fact that she finished second. She vowed standing there on the medal stand, it would be different next time.
She pasted on her smile gave a brief wave to the crowd, and her routine began. She could tell she was on. Everything was going well. The flips, the jumps, the landings all were feeling as close to perfect as she could get. Perfect until her foot hit the wet spot on the mat. Whether was sweat or water, she did not know. All she knew as she landed her back flip was that her right foot slipped, her right leg kept going, and she felt a pop in her leg that sent agony up from her leg to her brain. As she fell forward she extended her left arm to catch her, and she felt it snap as she hit the floor beside the mat. She screamed and started crying.
He watched his daughter move on the mat. Her routine was one of her best. She hit her marks, nailed her landings, and was on her way to completing one of her best performances. Her last run, cartwheel, and front flip looked good. Then she landed. He could see her head bob forward as her leg slipped, and he could hear the snap of bone from where he stood. He saw her collapse to the floor and heard her scream, and he started running towards her.
He ran onto the mat, and started shoving people out of the way. He looked down, saw the bone sticking through the skin of her leg, and the funny angle of her left wrist and dropped down beside her. She was moaning in pain and sobbing at the same time. He slowly lifted her head into his lap, and said "Don't worry baby. I am here and it will be ok." However, he knew that things would never be the same again.
She woke up lying in a hospital bed. An IV tube was running in her right arm. Her left felt heavy, and she tried to make out what was on her arm. It looked like a cast. There was a throbbing in her right leg, and she found she could not move it easily. Her father was holding her right hand and woke from a light sleep when he felt her moving. "How are you baby?" he asked.
"It hurts," she moaned.
"I know it does hun. They are giving you medicine for that." he replied.
Her mouth was dry so he gave her a sip of water. "How bad?" she asked.
"Don't worry about that now." he whispered as he stroked her hair.
"Tell me," she commanded.
He sighed and said," The doctor said you are out for a year. You had a nasty break in the leg, and your wrist also broke. He said best guess IF you could come back is a year."
He noticed the tear roll down her face, and moved to wipe it away. "It's all I have ever known."
"I know baby. Lets just take it a day at a time. No sense worrying about what we don't know now."
"How am I going to write? I am left handed," she asked.
"Very slowly I would imagine," he said with a laugh, and she smiled.
He brought her home three days later. He had a wheelchair for her that was motorized. Crutches were out of the question as was a walker. She was not used to sitting or laying for long periods of time, but the chair gave her some mobility. She had him help her in it when they got home and was able to steer it into the house.
"I am so ready for some real food daddy," she said.
"Oh, and what is real food then?" he asked with a smile.
"Pizza with lots of sausage and cheese of course," she replied.
When the pizza arrived she moved the wheelchair up to the table and started eating. It was hard using the right hand, but she managed to get the hang of it. That is until she had a piece fall on her white shirt. It was one of her favorite." Oh no! It will stain," she cried.
Her dad ran and got some stain remover and quickly applied it to the shirt. "Get it under cold water," she said.
Without thinking he reached down and pulled it up and over her head. He stopped as it passed over her head. She had no bra on, and she was beautiful. Her breasts were small, but the nipples were large and puffy. The cold from the stain remover had made them stand at attention. He didn't realize he had stopped taking off the shirt, and was standing there staring. "Um, Dad is there an issue with my hand?" she asked.
Her voice snapped him back to the task at hand." Just trying to figure out how to get it over your hand without hurting you Beth," he rasped.
He moved behind her to finish taking off her shirt, and also to hide the erection that had sprung up from the sight of his daughter's breasts. He quickly ran cold water on it, and added some more stain remover and put it in the washer.
"Hey, I could use another shirt in here," Beth said with a laugh.
