“They see me in that urgent care all the time,” Connie said. He grinned. “I’m influential there. You just worry about the store and call Cal. You might be late for dinner. She’ll probably be on crutches. And you’ll have to see about Molly. I think Molly and Beau—they might need a little extra food and water.”
Sully picked up Molly’s leash and looked down at the two wagging, smiling dogs. “They look ecstatic to me.”
“Oh, Sully, I’m sorry—they’re filthy. And I bet they stink. Maybe if you call Cal he’ll help out,” Sierra said.
“I ain’t crippled,” Sully said. “I been washing dogs since before you were born. Come on you two.”
Connie presented his back. “Up you go. Let’s get this done.” And he carried her off to her cabin. “I’ll call the urgent care in town and let them know we’re coming. Luckily, they have an X-ray. Can you get along on your own? Hopping and using furniture to hold yourself off that foot?”
“I got it,” she said. “Thanks.”
* * *
Connie felt like an idiot. He had no idea why he’d made so many lame comments to Sierra. He had a lot of girls? Since when? His last serious girl cheated with a guy he worked with? Why not just direct her to the Facebook crap that had been posted at the time? He’d seen a lot of girls naked? Very classy, Connie.
Sierra cleaned up and Connie took her to the urgent care in Timberlake. He had called ahead so the technician took an X-ray and the urgent care doctor said it looked like a bad sprain. He said he’d send the films over to the orthopedic surgeon to see if he found anything more than that. The prescription was a wrap, ice, elevation, stay off it for a couple of weeks. At least.
“I’m a waitress!” Sierra said.
“Not for two to three weeks. You don’t want to ignore this, screw it up and limp for the rest of your life. I’ll write you an excuse so your boss doesn’t fire you. And a prescription for pain meds,” the doctor said.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I don’t need pain meds.”
“You might,” he said. “I’ll give you the prescription and if you need it, you’ll have it.”
And that was it. Connie stopped by the firehouse to change into some dry, clean clothes he had in his locker and had her back at the Crossing by 7:00 p.m. Cal and Maggie were there. Maggie was setting one of the tables on the front porch; it appeared they’d brought dinner because Sierra had an injury. Cal came out to Connie’s truck and plucked Sierra out of the passenger seat and carried her up to the porch.
Connie had wanted to do that. Instead, he followed, carrying her crutches.
“Looks like you’re all set,” Connie said. “Cal, she got a prescription for pain meds but she didn’t want to fill it.”
“I’m fine,” Sierra said. But by the look on her face, she was barely fine.
“I’d get the pills, just to have them.”
“I just need ice and elevation.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Maggie said. “I set a place for you. You’re having dinner with us.”
“Aw, I’m kind of...” He sniffed in the general direction of his armpit. “I changed but I didn’t want to waste time on a shower.”
“We’re all hardworking people here,” Sully said as he came out of the store with a steaming casserole dish for the table. “Besides, my nose has been dead about ten years now. My eyes and ears are struggling to catch up with my nose.”
“Sit down, Connie,” Maggie said. She was adjusting Sierra’s foot up on a chair. “You should get a whiff of me after about six hours inside a skull. It’s amazing. Right now,” she said, sniffing her sleeve, “I smell like wet dog. And we owe you at least dinner. Maybe dinner and a movie.”
“Okay, it’s your funeral,” Connie said.
“That was unnecessary,” Sierra said, smiling at him. “Come on, sit down. After all, you saved my life. We’re bonded now.”
“He saves lives for a living,” Cal said. “Don’t give him too much attention.”
“You weren’t likely to die, Sierra,” Connie said. “Just get very wet and make your ankle more swollen.” He pulled up a chair, as far away from the group as possible, taking care to sit between Cal and Sully. He wanted to sit by Sierra, but opted instead to sit across from her. He could look right at her.
Cal disappeared and returned with salad and French bread. Sully disappeared and returned with serving spoons and tongs. Everyone sat. Then no one moved.
“What have we got here,” Connie asked, suddenly starving.
“Low-sodium vegetarian lasagna and gluten-free French bread,” Maggie announced proudly.
“Thrilling,” Sully mumbled. “I hope I get to pick a last meal before I croak. Convicted killers get to...”
“It’s delicious,” Maggie said. “Stop bitching.”
“Rejoice,” Cal said. “Maggie doesn’t cook.”
“I cook,” she said. “But you cook better and I’m okay with that.”
And thus the dinner progressed with stories, jokes, banter, debate. Connie liked the way Cal and Maggie poked at each other, the way Sully poked at everyone and not the least of which was poking at himself. The lasagna was good despite the fact that there wasn’t any meat. Connie liked it and it got him talking about his diet. He was a little obsessive about his food and his exercise. He’d always been, since he was fifteen anyway. He avoided processed foods, he told them.
Sully picked up Molly’s leash and looked down at the two wagging, smiling dogs. “They look ecstatic to me.”
“Oh, Sully, I’m sorry—they’re filthy. And I bet they stink. Maybe if you call Cal he’ll help out,” Sierra said.
“I ain’t crippled,” Sully said. “I been washing dogs since before you were born. Come on you two.”
Connie presented his back. “Up you go. Let’s get this done.” And he carried her off to her cabin. “I’ll call the urgent care in town and let them know we’re coming. Luckily, they have an X-ray. Can you get along on your own? Hopping and using furniture to hold yourself off that foot?”
“I got it,” she said. “Thanks.”
* * *
Connie felt like an idiot. He had no idea why he’d made so many lame comments to Sierra. He had a lot of girls? Since when? His last serious girl cheated with a guy he worked with? Why not just direct her to the Facebook crap that had been posted at the time? He’d seen a lot of girls naked? Very classy, Connie.
Sierra cleaned up and Connie took her to the urgent care in Timberlake. He had called ahead so the technician took an X-ray and the urgent care doctor said it looked like a bad sprain. He said he’d send the films over to the orthopedic surgeon to see if he found anything more than that. The prescription was a wrap, ice, elevation, stay off it for a couple of weeks. At least.
“I’m a waitress!” Sierra said.
“Not for two to three weeks. You don’t want to ignore this, screw it up and limp for the rest of your life. I’ll write you an excuse so your boss doesn’t fire you. And a prescription for pain meds,” the doctor said.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I don’t need pain meds.”
“You might,” he said. “I’ll give you the prescription and if you need it, you’ll have it.”
And that was it. Connie stopped by the firehouse to change into some dry, clean clothes he had in his locker and had her back at the Crossing by 7:00 p.m. Cal and Maggie were there. Maggie was setting one of the tables on the front porch; it appeared they’d brought dinner because Sierra had an injury. Cal came out to Connie’s truck and plucked Sierra out of the passenger seat and carried her up to the porch.
Connie had wanted to do that. Instead, he followed, carrying her crutches.
“Looks like you’re all set,” Connie said. “Cal, she got a prescription for pain meds but she didn’t want to fill it.”
“I’m fine,” Sierra said. But by the look on her face, she was barely fine.
“I’d get the pills, just to have them.”
“I just need ice and elevation.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Maggie said. “I set a place for you. You’re having dinner with us.”
“Aw, I’m kind of...” He sniffed in the general direction of his armpit. “I changed but I didn’t want to waste time on a shower.”
“We’re all hardworking people here,” Sully said as he came out of the store with a steaming casserole dish for the table. “Besides, my nose has been dead about ten years now. My eyes and ears are struggling to catch up with my nose.”
“Sit down, Connie,” Maggie said. She was adjusting Sierra’s foot up on a chair. “You should get a whiff of me after about six hours inside a skull. It’s amazing. Right now,” she said, sniffing her sleeve, “I smell like wet dog. And we owe you at least dinner. Maybe dinner and a movie.”
“Okay, it’s your funeral,” Connie said.
“That was unnecessary,” Sierra said, smiling at him. “Come on, sit down. After all, you saved my life. We’re bonded now.”
“He saves lives for a living,” Cal said. “Don’t give him too much attention.”
“You weren’t likely to die, Sierra,” Connie said. “Just get very wet and make your ankle more swollen.” He pulled up a chair, as far away from the group as possible, taking care to sit between Cal and Sully. He wanted to sit by Sierra, but opted instead to sit across from her. He could look right at her.
Cal disappeared and returned with salad and French bread. Sully disappeared and returned with serving spoons and tongs. Everyone sat. Then no one moved.
“What have we got here,” Connie asked, suddenly starving.
“Low-sodium vegetarian lasagna and gluten-free French bread,” Maggie announced proudly.
“Thrilling,” Sully mumbled. “I hope I get to pick a last meal before I croak. Convicted killers get to...”
“It’s delicious,” Maggie said. “Stop bitching.”
“Rejoice,” Cal said. “Maggie doesn’t cook.”
“I cook,” she said. “But you cook better and I’m okay with that.”
And thus the dinner progressed with stories, jokes, banter, debate. Connie liked the way Cal and Maggie poked at each other, the way Sully poked at everyone and not the least of which was poking at himself. The lasagna was good despite the fact that there wasn’t any meat. Connie liked it and it got him talking about his diet. He was a little obsessive about his food and his exercise. He’d always been, since he was fifteen anyway. He avoided processed foods, he told them.
