Page 77 of Big & Lily

“Ah, yes. That would have been my next guess. You’re the third one this week.”

I laugh, feeling a cross between embarrassed to be another statistic and proud to have survived this wild country. “I didn’t think Alaska was such a dangerous place. You all should have that in the brochure.”

“Pretty sure it’s in there.”

“Ah, might have missed that.”

After the pictures are taken, the radiologist pulls them up on his computer. I can see my bones, but to me they are just a Halloween skeleton. “It’s a hairline fracture of the lower fibula.” He points to the ankle, and if I squint, I can see a small pencil line across the thin bone.

“Shit.”

“It could have been a lot worse. You’ll be in a boot for a few weeks. Follow up with PT. Physical therapy. See your ortho when you get home. But don’t tell Jeff I told you any of this.”

“Jeff?”

“Oh, right. Dr. Brown. He likes to be the bearer of all the news. Protocol and all that, act surprised.”

“I will,” I promise. But when he wheels me back to the cubicle there is a bigger surprise waiting for me. Dr. Brown is wrapping my sister’s wrist in an ace bandage. And she is sobbing.

“Lily, honey,” I say as the radiologist/orderly does a K-turn with my gurney to park me. “What’s happening?”

My sister doesn’t lift her head. Dr. Brown attempts an answer. “We’ll be giving the wrist some support, and I’m recommending icing it for now. The ribs would have to heal on their own, regardless.”

“Why? What did the X-rays show?” I’m so confused. At the very worst, Lily could have a broken bone. Is that something to become hysterical over?

“Well,” says Dr. Brown. “We didn’t do any X-rays. Considering...”

“Considering what?”

Lily finally lifts her head. Her eyes are puffy, and her nose is running. “Because... because...” She sobs between staccato breaths. “I’m pregnant. Big, I’m fucking pregnant!”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I throw myself off my gurney, forgetting the diagnosis I just received, and the pain bolts up my body, rattling my teeth. Now I’m sobbing, but not because of my damn leg.

“What! How? When? Are you sure?” I cry, wrapping my arms around my sister.

Lily howls in pain from my bear hug. “Ladies, ladies,” says Dr. Brown, probably thinking this is some kind of Jerry Springer moment and not a miracle in the making.

“He,” Lily says, pointing to Doctor Jeff, “came in and told me I couldn’t have the X-rays.” She wipes her eyes with the hospital blanket. Then the sobbing turns to laughing. “And then he asked me all these questions about my last period, and Jesus, Big, I’ve been living through hell these last weeks, I completely stopped paying attention, and then he said because of the test they did... it, it says I’m pregnant!”

Her laughter is infectious. Here we are, in the wilds of Alaska, our faces dirty, dried blood on Lily’s forehead, bones broken, bruises blooming on our skin, laughing like a pair of hyenas. Until a thought comes to me, and suddenly something is not funny.

“Dane!” I say breathlessly.

Lily also stops laughing. “What? No! Impossible. We used protection.”

My mind flashes back to the CVS receipt. It also has anothersidebar thought: Who brings condoms to a wilderness adventure trip? No, Bridget. None of that is relevant now.

My sister looks at Dr. Brown. “Is that possible? Like if it happened only a couple of days ago. Could a test tell...”

“Well, I’m not an OB-GYN, but no, a few days would be too early for a positive result. HCG can’t be detected until ten to fourteen days after conception. Maybe a bit earlier in rare circumstances, but not with the tests we have here, so no, not likely.”

“Oh, thank God,” we say in unison. And we are laughing again.

“Well then, I’m going to give you two a minute. I’ll find the boot and crutches for Bridget, ask someone to clean your wound and bring in some instructions, and you can be on your way. May I suggest no more wild adventures for a while?”

“No problem, doctor. We’re flying home today,” says Lily. “And I think we’ve had our share of excitement.”