Big Red
Chapter 7: Turmoil

Copyright© 2013 by Coaster2

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7: Turmoil - Ten Years in the life of an extraordinary young woman.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   First  

Pete's third season with the Grizzlies was much like the previous one. They started out well, carried on through the Thanksgiving/Christmas break and entered the New Year in second place in their division, only two games back of San Antonio.

With Brenda's pregnancy and Pete's tight schedule around the Christmas period, they didn't get home for the holiday season that year. In other circumstances, it might have been a problem, but Pete arranged for both families to come to them in Memphis. He provided the air fare and accommodation at the Embassy Suites.

It was the perfect solution for both families and particularly for Brenda.

She was delighted when everyone was there, even though Pete couldn't be around for the whole ten days the parents and siblings visited. Thankfully there wasn't any problem with morning sickness, so she was able to enjoy the noisy breakfasts they had together.

"Are you okay, Bren? You seem a bit down," Pete suggested a couple of days after the families had returned to Indiana.

"Oh ... I'm okay, Pete. I just wish we could see our parents and my brother and sister more often. It was great to have them here for Christmas and New Years. I love you for doing that. It made it so special for me and for them too."

"Why don't you take a trip up there one of these times I'm on a road trip. You know, before you get too far along with our son."

"You mean our daughter, don't you?" she said with an arched eyebrow and a light punch on his shoulder.

"Okay ... whatever," he chuckled. "I mean it, though. Don't sit here alone and be unhappy. Go home when you're feeling a bit down. I want a happy momma and baby, whichever it is."

"Maybe I will, Pete. I guess I should thank my lucky stars that we can afford it. I hate to leave you alone, though. I hate it being in that big bed all alone."

"No more than I do, Bren. We spent a lot of months being on our own and I guess I'm the lucky one because I have the team around me to keep me occupied. But there's no substitute for having you beside me at night. Maybe we'll want to end this basketball business sooner than later. The money isn't the be-all and end-all any more."

"No, Pete. Not yet. Not when you're enjoying some success and having fun playing. It isn't about the money any more. It's about wanting to accomplish something. Just getting in the playoffs isn't enough. You need more than that."

"Some guys go their whole careers and never get any further than that, Bren. Yeah ... I'd like to see us win the big one for the team and for Sandor. But, I have responsibilities to you and our baby. They'll always come first, no matter what."

Brenda wrapped her arms around Pete and hugged him close. Pete ran his hand lovingly over her belly, kissing her warmly.

"It's too soon to feel her kick, you know," she whispered.

"I know. Just practicing."

The team remained relatively injury free, unlike the previous year. Just the same, they couldn't seem to catch and pass San Antonio. They would get close, then a loss or a streak by the Spurs would put a game or two's distance between them.


It was late March and an early spring ice and snow storm hit the east coast. The Grizzlies were in Boston, having just edged the powerful Celtics in what might have been their best game of the season. Pete had scored only nine points but had fifteen assists and four steals. He controlled the offense, contributed on defense and was named first star.

"Pete, you're the man!" Lionel growled as they hugged after the game.

"Thanks. That was fun. Shit, they were sure they had us in the third quarter. You could see it. They started to relax, then you and Jose took it to them. Did you see the look on Sandor's face? I thought he was going to cry when Demetrius hit that impossible three ball."

"The kid is getting better and better, Pete. Best thing Coach did was to move him to off guard. It's good to see it turn out like this for him."

"We going to get out of here tonight?" Pete asked the coach.

"Far as I know. But we need to hustle. The plane's at Logan all warmed up and waiting for us. Lionel, make sure the guys know we don't have a lot of time to waste."

Lionel nodded and headed for the locker room immediately. The celebration could wait until they were aboard their Champion Air 727.

Within a half-hour, the players, coaches, broadcast team and miscellaneous staff was in the bus and on their way through the wet snow and slush toward Logan Airport's charter terminal.

Pete had stood up to put his book away in his carry bag when the bus suddenly slammed on its brakes and began a skid across the wet, slushy pavement before smashing into a concrete divider. Pete had grabbed for the hand-hold on his seat but missed it and when the bus hit the divider his head hit the edge of the overhead bin. He fell to the floor of the bus, unconscious.

When the bus finally stopped, players and others began to assess their injuries. Fortunately, they were minor bumps and bruises ... with the exception of Pete!

"Johnny! Get down here! Polson's hurt!" Assistant coach Ronnie Lasky yelled.

Doctor John Weiskopf quickly navigated his way down the narrow aisle to where the prone body of Pete Polson lay. He quickly checked his pulse and raised his eyelids and shone his penlight into his eyes.

"We need to get him to a hospital," he said, turning to Sandor. "He's concussed. His breathing is irregular but his pulse is reasonably steady. His tongue is loose ... at least it isn't blocking his airway." The two men had gently rolled Pete onto his side.

Ronnie pulled out his cell phone and punched in 911. The sound of sirens became louder as the doctor tended to Pete. There were no ice-paks on board and all he could do until the ambulance arrived was to make him comfortable.

"There are a couple of ambulances on their way, Doc. I'll check and make sure there aren't any more injuries," Ronnie said, keeping his cool.

"Good. Thanks," the doctor said, on his knees in front of Pete.

"We aren't mobile," the bus driver said to anyone who was listening. "I'm jammed up against the barrier and the crazy bastard that caused the accident. I'm going to have to call for another bus."

"Okay ... go ahead," Sandor said. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. A little shook up but I'll be all right. How about the kid on the floor?"

"Unconscious but breathing. We'll know more when they get him to the hospital," Sandor said. The look on his face told everyone just how worried he really was.

"Do you want me to phone Brenda and let her know what happened?" Lionel asked the coach.

"Not yet. Let's wait until we get him into the ambulance. I don't think we're going to know much for some time. The news will get out so you should all call your wives or family and let them know you are okay. I'll call Brenda, Lionel."

The big man nodded and returned to his seat. His face mirrored the concern of his coach and the other players. Pete was hurt ... and it seemed serious.

The ambulances arrived to attend to Pete and the injured people in the pickup that had caused the accident. They were taking him to Massachusetts General after carefully putting him on a backboard and gingerly loading him into the ambulance. Doctor Weiskopf accompanied him.

Sandor watched through the bus window as the ambulance moved away, lights blazing and sirens blasting in the dark, snowy night. He wondered aloud what he would say to Brenda when he called her.

"Hello, Brenda, it's Sandor. I'm very sorry to bother you this late."

"What's wrong, Sandor? Where's Pete?" she said immediately. She knew his call wasn't a social one.

"He's on his way to the hospital. There was an accident with our bus and Pete was knocked out. He breathing okay but Doc is sure he has a concussion. He was still unconscious when the ambulance took him away."

"Oh my God! Where is he?"

"Massachusetts General in Boston. It's the best hospital he could be in. They've got all the facilities. I'm sure he's going to be okay, Brenda. I'll keep you informed if I know any more."

"I'm coming up there, Sandor. I have to. I can't sit here and wonder if he's going to be all right. I'll try and catch a flight first thing in the morning."

"Okay, Brenda. We're probably going to be in Oklahoma City by then. I'll stay in touch. I've got your cell number. If you have any problems, let me know."

"Thank you, Sandor. I'm going to go pack and head for the airport now. I might as well. I won't get a minutes sleep tonight. Give me your cell number and I'll call you if I know anything."

Sandor gave her his number and they signed off. Brenda began packing a light travel bag immediately. She looked at the clock. It was just after ten pm. That meant it was eleven pm in Boston. At the last minute, she grabbed their laptop and took it with her. She called a taxi and within twenty minutes she was on her way to the airport.

The earliest flight that would get her to Boston was a six am USAir flight that stopped in Charlotte on the way. She would arrive at noon. No other flight, non-stop or otherwise would get her there sooner. The ticket counter was closed, so she used the laptop and the airport wireless service to book a ticket. She could get her boarding pass at the machine in the lobby and would be on her way early.

The concessions would be closed and wouldn't open before six am. It didn't really matter at that point. There were vending machines and she wasn't hungry to start with. She was sick with worry and tried very hard not to be too upset. She worried it would have a negative effect on the baby she carried.

But try as she might, she was gripped by fear. Pete was everything to her. If he was disabled or worse yet died, how would she cope? The more she thought about the possibilities, the more upset she became. She got up and began to walk through the empty concourse. A handful of service people ... cleaning staff mostly ... were the only signs of life. A few security men stopped her and asked her what she was doing at that time of night wandering in an airport. She told them. When they learned why, they stopped bothering her.

It wasn't until shortly after five am that any signs of life appeared at the USAir counter. She checked her bag reluctantly. Too many items in her toiletry bag were not permitted in the cabin. Another frustration ... another delay. Thank God the flight was on time. The plane had been at the terminal overnight.

They pushed back from the gate on time and she relaxed on the flight to Charlotte. The stop-over was one hour, long enough for Brenda to get off and find a food kiosk. She was finally hungry and beginning to settle down now that she was on her way. The flight to Boston was just over two hours and after eating her snacks, she put her head back and was soon asleep. The thump of the landing gear brought her abruptly awake, disoriented for a few seconds until she saw the big Boston sign on the terminal.

The weather had remained miserable with half rain, half snow coming down steadily on the drive from the airport to the hospital. Brenda dreaded what she might find when she arrived. There had been no news from anyone. No messages on her cell phone. She would find out for herself.

"My name is Brenda Polson. My husband was brought here last night after a bus accident. Can you tell me his condition, please?"

The woman at the desk acknowledged her question and looked up the name on her computer screen.

"Mrs. Polson, your husband is in intensive care and his condition is listed as serious. I'll page his doctor and see if he's available to talk to you," she said sympathetically.

"Can't I see him? I want to see him," Brenda pleaded.

"He's not conscious yet. You'll need to have your husband's doctor's permission first. I'm sorry ... it's hospital procedure. Why don't you have a seat in the waiting area and I'll try and find the doctor."

Brenda nodded. "Thank you." She was getting headache and knew exactly why. Stress! She wondered how long it would be before she could see Pete's doctor and find out what was wrong with him. "Do you have any aspirin, or Tylenol?"

The woman looked up at Brenda sympathetically and picked up her purse from the floor. She reached in and handed her a small plastic container of Tylenol.

"Thanks, again. Do you think the doctor will be along soon?"

"It's hard to say. It's always busy in ER and he's our top guy. Your husband is in good hands, Mrs. Polson."

That calmed Brenda's nerves somewhat but she sat in the lounge, her mind whirling in different directions as she worried over Pete and what might happen.

It was almost twenty minutes later that at tall, middle-aged, green-smocked man appeared at the reception desk and the woman pointed to Brenda.

"Mrs. Polson, I'm Doctor Clifford Ratzenberger. I'm chief neurologist. I attended to your husband when he was brought in last night."

"Is he all right? Is he going to be alright?" Brenda asked, desperation in her voice.

"It's too soon to tell. He's taken a severe blow to the temple. Apparently, he was standing in the aisle of the bus when it struck a barrier and he hit his head on the edge of the overhead bin. From what I can tell, it was almost like a karate chop it was so sudden and violent. There is some bleeding in the brain and we've had to relieve the pressure. We've induced a coma to keep him calm and allow the brain to heal."

"Oh my god, no! Tell me he's going to live ... please ... tell me."

"Mrs. Polson, your husband will live. What I can't tell you is what damage has been done to his brain. He may recover completely or he may have some residual affects. It's just too soon to say."

Brenda fell back into the chair, her eyes wide and a look of complete horror distorting her face.

"Mrs. Polson ... are you pregnant?"

"Yes," she answered weakly.

"Would you come with me, please? This is a terrible shock, I know, but your first concern must be with your unborn child. I'd like to examine you and make sure you're all right."

Brenda rose from the chair and robotically followed the doctor toward the examination rooms. He took her blood pressure and used his stethoscope on her abdomen to hear the baby's heartbeat.

"You're going through a very trying, stressful experience, Mrs. Polson. You need to keep yourself calm if at all possible. I'm very reluctant to prescribe medicine at this stage. If you can will yourself to be calm, it will help both you and the baby much more safely than any pill. There's nothing you can do to help your husband right now. He's in our hands and I can tell you without boasting that we're very good at this type of problem."

"I don't want any pills. I don't even drink coffee anymore. But ... I can't stop worrying about Pete. He's my husband ... the father of our baby."

"I know. I understand. Where do you live?"

"We live in Memphis. My husband is a basketball player. He was in the middle of a road trip when this happened."

"Of course! I should have recognized the name. Do you have a family doctor?"

"Yes. My Doctor is Rosalind Ellis. Pete also has a team doctor ... Doctor John Weiskopf."

"Ah, yes. I met Doctor Weiskopf last night. A very good man. He did everything he could for your husband. I want you to see your doctor when you get back to Memphis. Let her know what's happened and see what she can do to help you. I know that some patients have had success with hypnosis when it came to dealing with stress. You'll have to talk to her about that."

"I'm not leaving here until Pete does. How long will he be in a coma?"

"We're going to try to bring him out of it in a couple of days. Right now, we have to evaluate the scans to see if there is any other damage. We're not going to rush things. Do you have a place to stay in Boston?"

"No ... but I'll find a hotel. That's the least of my worries."

"If you do, let our receptionist know your number so we can contact you. A cell number would be helpful too."

"Yes. Of course. I'll do that." She was in a daze. Lack of sleep and the stress of worry over Pete combined to make her responses slow and uncertain.

"Mrs. Polson, there's a hotel just a block or so from here. It's very nice, I'm told. The Onyx."

"Thank you doctor. I'll see if I can get a room there." She walked slowly to the reception desk and gave the woman her cell phone number, indicating she would be staying in a hotel and would let her know which one and her room number as soon as she checked in.

A taxi driver at the front entrance pointed her in the right direction and she walked to the Onyx, carrying her bag and laptop. There was no point in hurrying now. Pete would be in a coma for a couple more days and she needed to get herself organized.

The Onyx had a room available and Brenda checked in, still just going through the motions. She unpacked her travel bag and realized she needed to get some more clothes for her stay. Surely there were stores nearby. As she sat on the bed, the tears came. She'd been holding it all in but now the dam burst and she couldn't stop herself. He body was wracked with sobs that seemed to go on endlessly. What would she do without Pete? She couldn't lose him ... not now.

She lay back on the bed and within minutes she was asleep. When she awoke, it was dark. The clock-radio on the bedside table read eight-thirteen. She was fully clothed, but groggy. Stripping her outer wear, she padded to the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth. She felt a little better. She had been asleep for five hours and it helped restore her.

She had no ambition to go out to eat. Looking through the hotel's guide she found the room service menu and ordered a meal. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt for comfort. She was about to turn on the TV when she realized that neither her parents nor Pete's would know about the accident. Suddenly, she felt guilty. She was so wrapped up in her own worries that she had forgotten them.

"Hello, mom ... it's Brenda," she said haltingly.

"Oh, Brenda, I'm so glad to hear from you. We heard about Pete. How is he?"

She tried mightily to maintain her composure but quickly broke down.

"Mom ... he's in a coma. They don't know what's going to happen yet. They don't know if he's ... going to be ... all right," she choked out between sobs.

"Brenda ... I'm so sorry. Are you all right? Where are you staying?"

"Mom ... I'm at the Onyx Hotel, almost right beside the hospital. I'm staying here until I can take Pete home. The doctor that looked after Pete gave me an examination to make sure everything was okay with the baby. I just have to calm down. I lay down on the bed this afternoon and fell asleep. I'm sure that helped. Other than that ... I'm a wreck."

"Calm down, Brenda. You look after that grandchild of ours and let the doctor look after Pete."

"Mom, I haven't talked to Pete's parents yet. I've got to call them. They must be sick with worry."

"No! You let me look after that. You keep us informed of what's happening. That's all we ask. If you need us to come up there, just say so and we'll be there."

"No ... let's let the doctor see what he can do. He said they may try and bring Pete out of the coma in a couple of days. Maybe I'm worrying too much. I just need to calm down."

"Good girl. You hang in there, Brenda. You're a strong young woman. You and Pete will get through this. I know it in my heart. Take care of yourself and call us once a day, even if there isn't any news."

"Okay ... thanks, Mom. I feel better just talking to you. Thanks."

When Brenda hung up the phone, she breathed a deep sigh. She was right. Talking to her mother did calm her down. Always the cool one in a crisis, she once again understood just how important her mother and her family were in her life.

She waited an hour before calling Pete's parents. Despite her mother volunteering to let them know what had happened, she felt compelled to talk to them.

"Oh, Mr. Polson, it's Brenda. I guess you heard from Mom what's happened to Pete."

"Yes, Brenda. We heard about the accident on the news but not much else until your mother called. Are you all right?"

"Yes ... I'm okay. Upset and worried, of course. I'm at a hotel in Boston near the hospital. I've talked to the doctor and they are going to keep me informed of Pete's progress. He's in what they call an induced coma but they're thinking they will try and wake him in a couple days. I'm keeping my fingers crossed he's going to be okay but we won't know until then."

 
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