“Oh my God. Bette.”

“What is it?” Bette was gathering our things so we could head out.

“Angelica.”

“What’s wrong with Angelica.” She looked down to the field. “Oh no.” She finally looked down of the field. The team’s doctors were already rushing out to her. We grabbed our stuff and asked Renee to wait with the children in the stands while we went down to see what happened. They didn’t allow us on the field. They probably took about twenty minutes with her before they put her on the stretcher and into the ambulance. The coach and the doctor drove with the ambulance. We got the children and rushed over to the hospital.

When we got there she was already in the emergency room being attended to. They didn’t allow us in there either. I could tell that Bette was getting mad and I tried to keep her calm. They were with her a long time. After forty-five minutes Bette went to the receptionist. “Look if somebody doesn’t tell me what’s going on with my daughter, I swear I’ll knock someone senseless.”

“Ma’am you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down. My daughter was injured and no one is telling us anything.”

“Ma’am, who is your daughter? When did she come in?”

“She came in an ambulance, a soccer accident. Angelica Kennard-Porter.”

“Oh yes, they’re attending to her now.”

“I know that dammit. What I need to know is what’s taking them so long.”

“Ma’am if you hold on a doctor will inform you as soon as they can.”

I saw the fury in her eyes. I went to the counter and trued to clam her down. “Bette baby, as soon as they can tell us something they will. She can’t do anything more.” She finally broke her glare from the receptionist and followed me to the waiting room. We waited for another half hour before a doctor came to talk with us. Bette was the first to rush to him. “How is she? Angelica, the girl with the soccer injury.”

“Are you the parent?”

“Yes, and this is my wife. Is she going to be ok?”