The Crazy Girl's Handbook

by DelSheree Gladden

  Chapter Fourteen

  I kept telling myself all the way to the ballpark that there was no reason to be intimidated by Roman’s ex-wife. The fact that she was a raven-haired bombshell actress aside, Roman didn’t love her anymore and Sammy pretty much wanted nothing to do with her. I thought maybe I should feel bad about that, but disappearing from your son’s life for years at a time didn’t exactly scream love.

  It had been another long week, though midway through my boss let me know they’d hired a new weekend librarian and I was no longer needed to fill in. That wasn’t the only highlight. Roman had indeed kept his promise and called me every night after Jen left from her prearranged time with Sammy, which Roman had been limiting to one hour in the evening where she actually had to spend the time with her son and not arguing with Roman.

  That had inspired all kinds of tension, but the fighting had stopped, and when Sammy called me after dinner to talk, he wasn’t hiding under his bed. I knew, and I think Roman knew, that his battle with Jen was far from over, but the second week of her hanging around had gone infinitely better than the first. So far. Today might be a different story.

  I approached the complex and started looking for green jerseys. I was a little early and thought the boys would probably still be warming up somewhere. I spotted Evan first, running in circles with two other kids, Thor barking happily every time they passed him. Lydia and James were a little farther away. They were chatting with a guy I was pretty sure I recognized as one of the coaches from the previous weekend. Nervously, I glanced around for Roman, wary of being spotted by Jen first and becoming her target.

  When I spotted him coming back from the concession stand, alone, I breathed a sigh of relief. He saw me a second later and broke out into a cheerful grin as his pace picked up. I broke eye contact for a moment, scanning the area for Jen, praying she was far enough away not to see Roman’s reaction to me. By the time I looked back, his grin had changed to playful chuckling.

  “She’s not here.”

  “Jen?”

  He shook his head. “She got a call from her agent late last night that he’d set up an audition for her in L.A., so she checked out of her hotel and split first thing this morning.”

  Relief rolled over me. I finally felt able to relax and the results were visible enough for Roman to take notice. His smiled faltered. “I’m sorry she’s caused so much tension the last few weeks.”

  Shaking off his worry, I found myself smiling. “It’s fine. I’m just glad we can enjoy the game together.” I glanced at the tray of sodas in his hand. “Do you need help with those?”

  He reached for one of the drinks. “Lydia said you’re a Pepsi girl, so I—”

  “Heads up!” more than one voice shouted from the stands.

  My slow reaction time was why I was never much good at sports involving balls or hurdles or pretty much anything that required timing. I was looking around—in the wrong direction—when my outstretched hand exploded with pain. I’d been reaching for the Pepsi Roman had gotten me and had looked in the completely wrong direction to see a ball sailing down at me. For a moment after it struck, all I could do was stare at my hand hanging limply at my side. There was pain, a lot of pain, but I was so stunned by what had happened, I couldn’t quite feel it yet. Not until Roman tried to touch it.

  I shrieked as the pain jolted me back to my senses, then tried to cut it off by biting my lip as hard as I could. I thought about trying to hold back the tears welling in my eyes, but it was way too much work. The pain was currently hoarding my attention and dwindling control.

  Evan was jumping up and down at my side asking me if I caught the ball while Lydia was having a mild panic attack as she asked if I was hurt. I think there was an umpire or someone official looking asking me if I was okay. The only voice I heard clearly was Roman’s.

  “Can you move it?”

  My eyes widened at the mere thought. I think I was crying by then, but the rest of my body felt numb in comparison to my wrist. Not getting any other answer from me, Roman attempted to flex my wrist by the smallest degree. Somebody caught me when my knees buckled and I started crying in earnest.

  “I think it might be broken,” Roman said, to Lydia I think. “She needs to get to the emergency room for an x-ray.”

  The next thing I knew, Roman scooped me into his arms and Lydia was arguing with him. “We can take her, Roman. James, get Greenly’s keys, they’re sticking out of her pocket. You drive her car and I’ll get the boys.”

  “I’ve already got her, Lydia. I can take her.”

  “She’s my sister, for crying out loud,” Lydia snapped.

  “Well she’s my…uh, I can take her. It’ll be easier to get her into my truck than your sedan, anyway.”

  I felt something fall from my jeans pocket and hoped it was James making off with my keys. Even if it wasn’t, I didn’t particularly care in that moment because every step Roman took felt like a hot poker being shoved into my wrist.

  “Greenly!” Sammy wailed as he rushed up next to his dad. The anguish in his voice was enough to push my pain back just enough to focus on him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he demanded.

  Colby was running next to him, looking just as worried. “Aunt Greenly, did that ball hit you? One of the big kids hit it. It was a hard hit.”

  “I’m okay,” I told them. That was about as much as I could manage with a broken wrist. Roman said something about an x-ray earlier, but I was ninety-nine percent sure it was broken. I was more concerned with painkillers than an x-ray at the moment.

  Somehow we made it to Roman’s truck, and he must have won the argument, because he gently settled me in the front seat and then hurried to get Sammy buckled in. Once Roman was in the driver’s seat, he took my non-broken hand and squeezed. “Are you all right? How much pain are you in right now?”

  “On a scale of one to ten?” I asked. When he nodded, I glanced back at Sammy and said, “Um, five-ish?” That didn’t sound too scary, right? Sammy was already pale and teary-eyed.

  Roman’s gaze darted to Sammy before turning back to me with understanding that the real number was quite a bit higher. “We’ll be there soon.”

  The longer we drove, the more numb my arm started to feel. It still hurt like hell, but shock was taking the edge off. “You could have let Lydia and James take me. I feel bad Sammy’s missing his game.”

  Roman scoffed. “Sammy wouldn’t have stayed regardless, and I wouldn’t have either.”

  Would it be crazy to say I was in love with Roman right now? He played the role of knight in shining armor like a pro. We hadn’t even gone on an actual date yet, but that didn’t seem to matter too much right then. Maybe the pain was clouding my judgement a little. Probably shouldn’t say anything I might regret later.

  A pothole Roman couldn’t avoid made me gasp and curl around my hand. Roman apologized and Sammy leaned forward asking desperately if I was okay. I could only nod and pray we were almost there. It felt like an eternity later before Roman finally pulled into a parking space in front of the E.R. and started the process of unloading Sammy and me. Lydia and James pulled in nearby as Roman was carrying me again. I tried to tell him I could walk, but he wasn’t hearing it.

  James rushed ahead and opened doors while Lydia began barking orders at people as soon as she reached the check-in counter. She was handed a clipboard full of paperwork and told to fill them out. I didn’t know what else she was expecting to happen since the waiting room was half full of people, but I was eternally grateful she knew my personal and medical history well enough to tackle the paperwork for me. The only thing she didn’t have was my insurance information, so she sent James running back out to my car for my purse, which she then dug around in until she found what she was looking for. As I leaned against Roman, I had the vague hope that there wasn’t anything embarrassing in my purse, but it was lost under the pressing need for someone to hurry up and give me some painkillers.

  Jame
s managed to keep my nephews entertained while we waited. He really was a great guy. He couldn’t, however, draw Sammy away from my side where he gripped my free hand tightly and asked me every few minutes if my hand still hurt. At one point, he asked if he could see my hand, but when I looked down at it and saw my wrist swollen to twice its normal size and sporting an array of purplish bruises, I made the excuse that it would hurt to move it, but told him he could sign my cast later.

  Finally, a nurse called my name and our whole group stood. Well, I tried to stand on my own, and was perfectly capable of doing so, but Roman scooped me into his arms again despite my protests. The nurse, who had looked worn out and testy a moment earlier, smiled at Roman before turning to me. “Any time a man wants to carry you, you let him. It doesn’t happen often.” She winked at me, then turned to the rest of the group. “You can’t all come back. The room’s not that big and we only allow two family members at a time.”

  Lydia stepped forward, ready to take charge, but I felt Sammy’s hand slowly begin to strangle mine. “Lydia,” I said.

  Her mouth snapped closed, stifling whatever she’d been about to say, and narrowed her eyes at me. She was challenging me. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Roman to be there for me, but she was my sister and used to taking care of me. She’d done so for such a long time, giving that up to someone else looked like it was going to give her a coronary. I didn’t say anything else. Instead, I directed my gaze down toward Sammy. She followed and her glare softened, though she seemed pained to give in.

  Directing a firm glare at Roman, Lydia said, “Take care of her.” I wasn’t the only one who heard the threat behind her words, which I found oddly funny in that moment.

  As Lydia herded her family back to the chairs, Roman followed the nurse down the hall with Sammy in tow. Then began an endless string of pokes, twists, prods, x-rays, and yes, painkillers. By the time the doctor came in to confirm that my wrist was indeed broken and in need of setting and a splint, Sammy was asleep in Roman’s lap and I was on the verge of following him thanks to the rather strong painkillers.

  Having my wrist set woke me back up.

  Not yelping or swearing and waking Sammy up was not easy. Roman squeezing my hand and letting me squash his knuckles together definitely helped. Then it was time for the splint. Given that I’d never broken a bone before, I’d been surprised, not to mention disappointed, that I wouldn’t get a cast then. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of making another visit, but I supposed they had to wait for the swelling to go down or something. It was hard to focus by that point. The painkillers were overriding my senses.

  Drugged up pretty good, I was actually looking forward to having Roman carry me again, but he had Sammy in his arms and it was some kind of policy that I be wheeled out in a wheelchair even though it was my wrist and not my leg that was injured. I didn’t really care too much by that point. When we finally got to the waiting room again, only Lydia was still there.

  “I had James take the boys home to get the guest room ready for you.” The way she said it made it very clear she wouldn’t be budged on this one. Handing over the reins to Roman for Sammy’s sake was one thing. Not taking me home to dote on me while injured was something else.

  “Lead the way,” Roman said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Lydia heard it, I’m pretty sure, because she turned her nose up at him and stalked off toward the exit.

  Reaching up my free hand, I patted Roman’s arm lazily. “Don’t take it personally. She does that to me, too.”

  Roman chuckled and walked alongside the wheelchair pushed by a nurse or someone until we got to the other side of the sliding doors and the nurse guy said that was as far as he could take me. I think he probably said it nicer, or had a better reason, but I wasn’t listening. Lydia helped me stand. I was feeling a little woozy, so Roman offered a second steadying hand while still holding Sammy and they led me across the parking lot.

  I think I made Lydia mad when I slipped my hand from her grip and leaned toward Roman when we reached his truck. Maybe she just thought I was falling and gasped. I’m not sure. Man, what did they give me for the pain? I hardly ever took medications because I wasn’t sick very often, and I remembered the last time I’d taken something stronger than aspirin after a car accident, it had hit me pretty hard then, as well. I was just a lightweight. Oh well.

  Roman helped me into the truck—he must have already buckled Sammy in—and Lydia said something snotty about him bringing me to her house. Not his. I might have rolled my eyes at her. When Roman sat down next to me, he asked, “Greenly, are you doing okay? You look a little out of it.”

  “What did they give me?” I asked.

  “Morphine. You broke several of the little bones in your wrist and the doctor said it was going to hurt when he set it.”

  I nodded slowly. “I think they gave me too much.”

  Roman chuckled. “I think you’re just not used to medication that strong. Lydia said you reacted the same way a few years ago when you were in a car accident and cracked a rib.”

  Frowning, I said, “Oh yeah. That wasn’t fun. Well, except for…did she tell you about the EMT? He was nice. He said I was pretty even with blood on my face. What was his name? Thomas? You’ll have to ask Lydia. I don’t think I should be moving around so much when I feel like this.”

  “You’re not moving around. You’re sitting in my truck,” Roman said, “and no, Lydia didn’t tell me about Thomas the EMT. I’ll have to ask her later.”

  “Don’t forget. It’s important,” I said, though I couldn’t actually remember whether it was important or not. A twisting sensation in my stomach made me panic. I wasn’t too doped up to know I did not want to throw up in front of Roman again. “I don’t think I want any more of this stuff. What did you say it was again?”

  “Morphine,” Roman repeated, “and don’t worry, they gave you a prescription for something weaker for the next few days.”

  “Oh good.” I leaned my head against the window, wishing my head didn’t feel so fuzzy, but enjoying the coolness of the glass. “Are you taking me to Lydia’s?”

  “I think she might never speak to me again if I don’t.”

  I giggled at his response. “She’d be pretty mad at you. Me, too.”

  “You’d be mad at me, too?” Roman asked, though he seemed more amused than confused.

  “No. Lydia would be mad at me, like she’d be mad at you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she likes to think she’s my mom, always has to take care of me. She doesn’t like for other people to take care of me, even though she’s always trying to marry me off to some random guy.” I rolled my head back against the seat, the cold glass not feeling good anymore.

  “No,” Roman said, “why would she be mad at you? I already know why she’d be mad at me.”

  My thoughts blurred again, and I struggled to come up with an answer. “Because, I think, she’d think I was choosing you over her.” I tried to focus on Roman’s face, but it was hard. “I think she thought it would take longer.”

  “What would take longer?”

  “For me to fall in love with you.” Everything got really fuzzy after that, and I felt tired. There didn’t seem to be any sense in trying to stay awake, so I think I squeezed Roman’s hand—I tried to anyway—and then I fell asleep.