Page 59 of Driving Beats

“Let’s go into the kitchen.” Instead of making her limp, I simply carry her. Depositing her onto a stool at the island, I say, “Please take off your shoe so we can check out the damage.”

“How many injuries like this have you seen? I can’t imagine the guys of UC hurt their ankles too often.” Her left shoe drops to the floor.

I smile. “No, not them. My little brother, Andy, was into ice hockey growing up. His ankle was the size of a grapefruit more often than I could count.”

She nods. “You mentioned he’s an electrician?”

“Yup. After his second concussion, Mom made him give it up.”

“Smart woman.”

“Yes, she is. Now let me take a look at your ankle.” I pick up her foot as my time with Andy rushes back. I examine her foot for bruising and swelling, of which there is none. However, because the injury is so recent, I don’t expect there to be. “Can you wiggle your toes?”

She purses her lips. Her toes move, but she winces. “It hurts.”

“Where?”

“My pinky toe. It hurts on the outside of my foot when I wiggle it.” She moves it again, but it barely separates from her other toes.

Appears to be only a slight tendon sprain. I gently pull her pinky toe toward her foot.

She sucks in her breath. “Owwwwww!!” She frowns at me. “That hurt.”

Oh boy. She did a job on it. “I gathered as much. Let me do one more test, and we’ll put ice on it, alright?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Get it over with.”

Taking this as the most assent I’ll receive from her, I run my finger over the outside of her foot, causing her to wince again. “How much pain was that?”

“I don’t know. My whole foot hurts.”

I position her foot on the opposite stool, while I open the freezer. “Keep it elevated. I’m no doctor, obviously, but I think you slightly sprained it. You should be fine in a couple of days, but you need to elevate and ice it. Wear sneakers for stability and support.”

She sighs. “Dammit. We don’t have time for me to do something as stupid as this.”

I wrap the ice pack in a kitchen towel. “It was an accident. It had been raining. Accidents happen.” If I were being a gentleman, though, I would’ve been there to help her into the vehicle and all this could’ve been prevented.

“To other people. Not me, when I’m on the clock.”

Ignoring her comment for the moment, I return to her side. “Actually, your leg should be elevated above your heart. How about I bring you to the sofa where you can lie down with your leg up on the armrest?”

“Are you serious?”

My cheeks inflate. “As a sprained ankle.”

“This sucks.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re a cranky patient? I’m sure you can get into trouble lying down on the sofa. You just need to be a bit more creative.” I scoop her up and bring her to the family room. “Let me retrieve your ice pack.”

Her head lands on the pillows. When I return, I give her some ibuprofen and place the ice pack on her foot. She hisses at contact.

After a couple of moments, she says, “Thank you for taking good care of me. I hate being a burden.”

“You’re not. As I said, accidents happen.”

“Kelvin drummed into me that accidents only occur when one party isn’t paying attention. He said you’re a failure if you’re the cause.”

How should I respond to this potential volcano? I think back to a recent “accident.” “If that were true, Bennett would like a word. You were there when he jumped onstage at the movie premiere and pulled his groin. But for that unfortunate accident, he and Jenna probably wouldn’t have met again. Now look at them—married. So, would you consider his jump to be a failure?”