“Does that mean I’m in the company of a celebrity?” Mary feigned a curtsy.
“About the only thing I have in common with celebrities is figuring out using a fake name can make life easier.”
“Got it,” Mary said. “Like Marilyn Monroe had more appeal than Norma Jean Baker.”
“Right. Samuel Clemens wouldn’t have sold nearly as many books as Mark Twain did.”
Mary shifted so that her weight was on her other foot. “And it’s true even in the corporate world. Google wasn’t always Google.”
“No?”
“Nope. It started out as BackRub.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Uh-uh. I saw it on one of the trivia sites I browse.” Mary opened the driver’s side door. “Might as well be comfortable while we compare little-known facts.” She gestured to the passenger door. “Climb in.” She eased into the leather bucket, Ellis complied, and soon they were lost in conversation.
Half an hour later, Ellis glanced out the windshield and noticed a car coming up the road. “Looks like the gridlock at Oak Grove is breaking free. I’d better get back to my truck. Thanks for making this the only Atlanta traffic jam I’ve ever enjoyed.” Ellis offered her hand to Mary.
“It’s been fun talking to you. I hope you get your bush trimming done so that the earth isn’t thrown off its axis when a group of gay men simultaneously recoil in horror at misshapen holly shrubs.” Mary took Ellis’s hand as she spoke.
Ellis grasped Mary’s extended hand briefly and then got out of the vehicle. She walked around to the driver’s side and leaned down so that she was eye to eye with Mary. “Right. I’d hate to be responsible for a catastrophe of that magnitude. Well, see you at the next overturned beer truck.”
“That’s a date, Gretchen Alina VanStantvoordt.”
Ellis smiled, pleased at how easily Mary used her full name. “In case I don’t get the chance to say it closer to the real date, Merry Christmas, MaryChris Moss.”
“Thanks. Same to you. Take care of yourself.”
“I will. You, too.”
Vehicles several car lengths ahead of the SUV moved slowly forward. Ellis picked her way along the edge of the street. She was about to sprint down the now-creeping line of cars toward her truck, but reversed direction and ran to catch up with Mary’s Xterra.
She half-shouted into the open window. “Hey, any chance you might want to go to a movie or something sometime?”
“I’m in the book. Call me.”
Ellis flashed an “okay” sign. She thumped her fist lightly on the edge of the rear door of Mary’s SUV. “Deal. I will. Soon.” She turned and jogged down the uneven berm of the roadway.
The impatient drivers who’d been trapped in the queue were eager to make up for lost time. Horns honked farther down the string, and she was sure it was because her unoccupied truck was blocking the way. She picked up her pace and, in her haste, failed to notice a gap in the pavement. Her right foot hit the hole at the wrong angle, and the next thing she knew, she was a crumpled heap of humanity.
“Crap!” she yelled as she felt the pain tear through her ankle. “I don’t need this.” She grabbed her right calf. “Shit. How freakin’ clumsy can I be?” She shrunk herself into a ball and rolled onto the narrow strip of dead weeds. She was grateful that she’d at least had the good fortune to fall in a stretch of road where she had a small oasis to huddle on rather than in one of the places where ancient pines crowded the heavily-traveled two-lane route in the northeast Atlanta neighborhood.
“Would it kill one of you to stop and see if I’m okay?” she shouted. “Your compassionate pre-Christmas spirit is astounding.” She shook her fist at a couple of the cars zipping by. Ellis might have uttered more commentary, but the sound of screeching tires and the unmistakable crunch of bumper on taillights filled the air. “At least I don’t have to worry about being run over,” she said sarcastically as the procession of cars once again came to a total halt. “Serves you right, assholes.”
Ellis pulled herself to her knees and tried to stand. A white-hot jolt shot through her lower leg and forced her back to a kneeling position. She gingerly eased onto her butt. Waves of nausea washed over her, and she wondered if she was going to pass out. She took half dozen slow, steady breaths and talked herself into a calmer state.
“Marvelous. How the hell am I going to get those bushes trimmed? Broken ankles and landscaping careers don’t mix well.” She reached down and gently probed her swelling foot.
“Do you really think it’s broken, Ellis?”
Ellis did a double-take. “Mary? What are you doing here? You should be all the way to Clairmont Road by now.”
“Yeah, but I took one last look in my rearview as you were trotting along the road, and I saw you fall.”
“Now you know why I’m a landscaper and not a ballerina.” Ellis tried to laugh, but the pain was growing by the moment, and the sound died in her throat.
“Can you walk?”
“I don’t think so. When I tried to stand on it, I almost fainted.”
“We’d better get you to an emergency room.” Mary knelt beside her.
Ellis made a face. “That’ll only cost a month’s wages, and since I won’t be working much again until the spring, make that a month’s wages I don’t have.”
“Maybe so, but replacement body parts are hard to come by.” Mary rubbed Ellis’s forearm reassuringly.
“I guess you’re right. Besides, I’d hate to be a one-legged gardener in an ass-kicking contest.” Ellis tried again to put a laugh with her words, but once more, the throbbing discomfort stymied her.
“How much farther to your truck?”
“Just around the next bend.”
Mary got to her feet. “Give me your keys, and I’ll go get it.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to take yours?”
Mary took a look in the opposite direction up the road. “Ordinarily, but it recently had the grillwork of a Crown Victoria planted firmly in its backside.”
“It was your SUV I heard get creamed?”
“I told you, I saw you in my rearview. When I knew you’d taken a tumble, I guess I forgot what I was doing and slammed on my brakes.”
“And you got rear-ended?”
Ellis caught the sheepish look on Mary’s face. Mary flipped her hand dismissively. “You know how unforgiving the laws of physics are. Two solid objects can’t occupy the same place at the same time.”
“You need to get back to your car and exchange insurance information with the guy who hit you.”
“I’ve already parked it on the driveway pull-off in front of where it happened. I got the other driver’s business card and gave him my name and number. I can deal with the car later.”
“No, really, Mary, you should call the police and file an accident report.” Ellis pushed against Mary’s legs with both hands.
Mary looked intently at Ellis. “Nope. In the game of life, people trump possessions every time.”
Ellis wondered at the sensation that ripped through her and hoped it wasn’t an indication that she was going to fall into unconsciousness. Mary’s smile reassured her. “Okay, you win.”
“Now, give me your keys and let’s get you patched up.”
Ellis fished her keys out of her vest pocket and handed them to Mary. “Here. It’s a burgundy Toyota Tundra.”
“Good color choice. First we’ll get your ankle fixed, and then we’ll get you some ballerina lessons. Your pink tutu will be a perfect complement to it.”
∗ ∗ ∗ ∗
“At least it’s not broken. I’ve heard that a lot of people need surgery to fix a broken ankle.” Mary perched on the edge of the gurney in DeKalb General Hospital’s emergency room.
“Forgive me if I don’t leap up and down in euphoria.” Ellis gestured toward her foot and ankle encased in a Velcro-closure bootie. “I need to wear this soft cast and use crutches while the sprain heals.”
“True, but that beats having plates and screws put in.” Mary patted Ellis’s good leg sympathetically and let her hand linger lightly on Ellis’s thigh. “Is the shot the doctor gave you for pain starting to work?”
“Must be. I feel like I’ve got anvils on my eyelids.”
“As soon as the nurse comes back with your discharge papers and the prescription for your meds, I’ll get you out of here so you can lie down and sleep for a while.”
Ellis tried to stifle a yawn. “She’d better hurry. I’m sinking fast.” She chanced a glance. “I’m sorry you had to waste your whole day.” She wrapped her fingers around the back of Mary’s hand as it rested on her leg. “And I really hate that your first impression of me is that I’m a total klutz.”
“Actually, my first impression of you was that you’re a nice-looking woman with a good sense of humor and a quick comeback. I thought those Rhonda Korner and Sarah Bellum cracks were pretty funny.” She squeezed Ellis’s hand before withdrawing her own. “So your first impression was okay. And my second impression of you was that you were willing to ask me for a date, and that always boosts someone’s stock with me.”
Despite her deepening drug-induced stupor, Ellis caught the tinge of a blush creeping up Mary’s neck. “So it wasn’t until the third impression that you figured out I’m a stumblebum, huh?”
Mary tugged at the edge of the sheet on the gurney and looked anywhere except at Ellis when she said. “I prefer to think of it as a case of you falling for me.”
Before Ellis could respond, the ER nurse bustled into the enclosure, carrying a sheaf of papers and pushing a wheelchair with a pair of crutches braced between the footplate and the back of the chair.
“Okay, let’s go over your home care instructions.” She handed Ellis a list of dos and don’ts for her badly sprained ankle. “Biggest thing is to keep it elevated as much as possible for the first forty-eight hours. You need to ice it several times a day, but no more than twenty minutes at a time. The soft cast will keep it immobilized and provide compression. Only take the cast off when you ice it and when you bathe.” The nurse pointed to the last item on the list. “See this? It says, ‘REST, REST, REST.’ It’s in capital letters and repeated three times for a reason. If you want this ankle to heal, stay off it.”
“But—” Ellis said.
“No buts. I mean it. Today, tomorrow, Monday, you park yourself somewhere and let”—the nurse cast a look toward Mary—“your girlfriend wait on you. Rest, rest, rest.”
She tapped her index finger on the sheet of paper she was holding and addressed Mary. “Make her take baths for the next week or ten days, but be sure she keeps that foot out of the tub. No heat of any kind on this ankle for the next two days. After the first forty-eight hours, you can alternate hot and cold. And I mean it, baths, not showers. It’s too easy for her to lose her balance and slip in the shower.”
She turned her attention back to Ellis. “Starting Tuesday, alternating hot and cold will increase the blood flow to the injury and help it heal, but for the first couple of days, only use ice. We want to get the swelling out of it.” She looked quickly from one to the other. “Any questions?”
“What about the crutches?” Ellis asked. “How long do I have to use them?”
“At least for the first week. Doctor Thackeray said it’s one of the worst sprains he’s seen. You’ve got to keep your weight off that foot. Don’t go hoppin’ on your good foot, either. You’ll end up with two sprained ankles, or worse.” She helped Ellis to a standing position. “Let’s be sure these are set right for you.” She fiddled with the adjustment screws on the crutches and had Ellis take a couple of practice steps.
“Good. That should do. Next weekend, you can try to put a little bit of weight on it and see how it does. If it still hurts, keep using the crutches, understand?”
She handed Mary two prescription sheets. “One of these is for pain, the other for inflammation. Instructions for how she should take them will be on the bottles.”
Mary jammed the papers in the back pocket of her jeans.
“Anything else I can do for you?” The nurse pulled a pen from the pocket of her smock.
“No, I don’t think so,” Ellis said, barely able to force her lax jaw to form the words.
“Then sign this release form, and I’ll wheel you down to the door.” She used one hand to hold the form in place on the supply table beside the gurney.
Ellis scribbled her signature on the bottom of the page. Without so much as a single grumble, she accepted Mary’s help getting into the waiting wheelchair. The nurse placed the upper part of the crutches in Ellis’s hands and guided the tips onto the footplate between Ellis’s feet. She led them down the hall and through the lobby.
∗ ∗ ∗ ∗
Mary left the nurse standing behind the almost-dozing Ellis while she hurried to get Ellis’s truck from the emergency room parking lot. She pulled under the canopy and went around the cab to help maneuver Ellis from the chair into the passenger seat, then stowed the crutches on the floor of the backseat.
“Good luck to both of you,” the nurse said as she leaned over Ellis and fastened her seatbelt. She lifted Ellis’s arm and moved it inside the cab of the truck. It flopped loosely onto Ellis’s lap. “That shot turned her into Raggedy Ann. Looks like she’ll be your Sleeping Beauty for the rest of the day.” She closed the door and waved at Mary through the rolled-up window. Mary waved back and pulled away from the curb.
“I live up in Tucker, just the other side of North Lake Mall,” Ellis said.