Detours

by Vollbrecht, Jane

  “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.

  Because Ellis’s voice was so soft and her words were so garbled, Mary had to strain to understand what she said.

  “I’m taking you to my place, Ellis. You’re in no condition to be left alone.”

  “Won’t be alone. Sam’s there.” The words were so slurred it sounded more like, “Woan bee lone. Sam’s hare…”

  “Who?” Mary tried mightily to keep any trace of emotion out of her voice.

  “Sam. She’s the best. And she’s got the prettiest brown eyes. I’m so lucky to have her.” With a goofy grin on her face, Ellis turned to face Mary. “You’ll like Sam. She gives good kisses.”

  Mary laughed derisively. “I should have known this was too good to be true.”

  “Whaddya mean?”

  “I thought you were unattached. When we were getting out of that traffic mess earlier, and you came back to my car to ask me out…”

  “Sam won’t mind. She wants me to go out. She likes to have the apartment to herself. Watches Animal Planet and eats cookies in bed.”

  Even though she felt like she needed an interpreter to decipher Ellis’s mutterings, each comment from Ellis was pushing Mary closer to an eruption. The nerve. Acting as if there was nothing wrong in the least with asking one woman for a date while living with another one.

  “I see.” Mary’s tone was icy. “How long have you and Sam been together?”

  “I picked her up about six months ago.” Ellis’s head lolled back against the headrest. She yanked it forward. “It took about four months for me to convince her it was okay for me to go out and leave her at home alone.”

  “I see,” Mary said again, the temperature in her
words dropping well below freezing.

  “’Course, as soon as I get home, she makes me take her for a walk,” Ellis said. “If I don’t, she pees right there on the floor—sometimes right on my shoes.” The matter-of-fact delivery of this observation sent Mary into peals of laughter.

  She caught her breath and asked, “So Sam’s your dog, I take it?”

  “What else? My grandma?”

  If Ellis was joking, it wasn’t evident in the least, and her deadpan reply elicited more chuckles from Mary.

  “I’ll say this for you, Ms. VanStantvoordt, you’re an enigma.”

  “Nope. I’m a Gemini.” With that, Ellis gave in to the effects of the painkiller and dropped off to sleep, her head resting against the passenger window.

  Mary reached for the button to turn on the radio, then decided some quiet time to think might be a better option.

  She made her way through the heavy Saturday afternoon traffic. Worries about Ellis’s foot had kept her from thinking of much else for the past several hours. She rounded the corner off North Druid Hills Road onto Willivee Lane and then made a right onto Wilson Woods Drive in the Laurel Hills subdivision. As the Toyota bounced over a speed bump, Ellis stirred in the passenger seat.

  She reached over and rubbed the back of Mary’s upper arm. More asleep than awake she said, “Sorry I’m so much trouble, Becky. You know I love you best, right?”

  Before Mary could react to the comment, Ellis dropped back under the veil of the Darvocet.

  Mary gave Ellis a skeptical look. First Sam, and now Becky, she thought. She couldn’t wait to see who else was behind this Dutch door.

  Chapter 2

  Ellis edged closer to the realm of consciousness. As best she could tell, little green men wearing dirty boots were marching in her mouth. Her right foot felt like it was encased in cement, and she doubted she could lift it an inch, even if she wanted to. The dull, aching agitation in her head was on the verge of causing a spin cycle in her stomach. Worst of all was the eerie feeling that she was being watched—watched very carefully by several pairs of eyes.

  She could tell she was lying on a sofa, but she knew it wasn’t the one in her apartment. Cautiously, she raised her eyelids just enough that she could squint through her lashes. A long-haired gray and white cat lounged on the sofa back. Its tail could double as a plume in d’Artagnan’s cap in a production of The Three Musketeers. The constant fwip-fwip, fwip-fwip of the tail, first on the front side of the sofa and then to the rear, brought to mind a demented conductor waving a fuzzy baton at a silent orchestra playing syncopated tunes. The cat was staring relentlessly at Ellis, and it wasn’t a look of enchantment or welcome.

  Ellis rolled her head slightly to the left. Instantly, a familiar wet nose poked the side of her face. “Hey, Sam,” she whispered through gummy lips. “How’d you get here?” She rubbed the dog’s ears with her left hand and was rewarded with a sloppy slurp as Sam dragged her tongue across her face. “Nice one, Sam.” Ellis used her right hand to swipe some of the dog slobber from her nose and cheek.

  Once Sam knew Ellis was awake, there was no point for Ellis to pretend otherwise. She opened her eyes wide, blinked several times, and looked at the unfamiliar ceiling as she tried to coax her mind into remembering what happened in her life the last time she was upright. Her first attempt at moving her right leg brought everything back in a snap. The yelp that escaped her sent the cat flying off the back of the sofa and out of the room, with Sam scampering after her.

  Ellis put two fingers in her mouth and gave a sharp whistle. Sam hustled back to the sofa. “Down and stay, Sam.” Sam dropped onto her belly and put her head on her paws. Ellis reached down and patted the dog’s head. “Good girl. I’ve got trouble enough without you tearing up some stranger’s house.” She stroked Sam’s head while she did a mental recap of what she could recall of her day. Her reverie was interrupted by a soft voice.

  “I guess you’re awake. Are you all right?”

  Ellis lifted her head from the pillow to look at the person speaking. The person turned out to be a young girl, sitting on an ottoman on the other side of the room.

  “Yeah, I’m all right, except my foot hurts like a son-of-a-bi…” Ellis caught herself mid-word. “It hurts a lot.” She propped her arm on the back of the sofa and braced her hand on the sofa’s arm. She half-pulled, half-pushed herself into a sitting position. As she eased her leg off the edge of the sofa, her ankle throbbed mercilessly, and she lowered herself back against the pillow on the end of the couch.

  The youngster edged across the room and stood where Ellis could see her. “I’m supposed to tell you to have some cheese and crackers and then to take one of each of these pills.” She held two pharmacy bottles out toward Ellis. “And I’m supposed to tell you that if you have to go to the bathroom, you have to use your crutches to get there.” She pointed to the crutches standing against the glider rocker behind the ottoman she’d recently vacated.

  Ellis looked at the girl. Something about the girl seemed somehow out of place. Damn, Ellis thought, she looks so familiar, but I don’t know any ten-year-olds, or nine-year-olds… or eleven-year olds, for that matter.

  “Okay, I guess that makes sense, but who told you to tell me that?” Ellis continued to wrack her brain to figure out where she could have encountered this girl before.

  “She did.” The girl pointed to the far side of the room.

  Ellis hiked herself up enough to look over the back of the sofa. Mary stood in an arched doorway.

  “Guilty as charged,” Mary said as she glided into the room. She wore a blue chenille bathrobe, and her hair was wrapped in a bright pink towel. “I wanted to grab a quick shower, so I left Natalie on guard, in case you woke up while I was in the bathroom.” She covered the rest of the distance to the sofa and stood beside the girl.

  Ellis collapsed back on the couch, leg throbbing. She wasn’t sure of the mechanics of her arrival at what must be Mary’s house, but she now knew why Natalie looked so familiar—she was a miniature Mary Moss. The honey blonde hair, the lean, angular build, the eyes that were blue, except when they were shaded and looked gray-green, the soft, feminine face. Precious little doubt what the connection was between these two beauties who stood side by side in front of her.

  Mary bent down and gave Sam a couple of quick pats on her rump. “Nice dog you’ve got, by the way.” Sam responded with an appreciative groan as Mary rubbed the ridge down the middle of the dog’s back.

  “Thanks. Now, would you like to tell me how my dog got to your house?”

  Mary straightened up and undid the towel, and her hair fell free. “Well, I’ll give you a clue. It wasn’t by cab.” She rubbed the moisture out of her long, blonde hair. “So, I guess you’ve met my daughter.” Mary stopped drying her hair and cupped Natalie’s shoulder.

  “Indirectly. She passed along instructions about what I’m supposed to do.”

  “And have you followed those orders?”

  Natalie resumed her seat on the ottoman.

  “Not yet,” Ellis said.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “I bet.” Mary wadded the towel into a ball. “Here, honey, take this to my bathroom and hang it up for me, will you?” Natalie took the towel and ambled out of the room. Mary called after her. “And bring my hairbrush when you come back, okay?”

  “Cute kid,” Ellis said.

  “I think so, but I have to. It’s in my motherhood contract.” Mary used her fingers to pull self-consciously at the tangles in her hair. “I wasn’t hiding her from you. I would have told you about her when we took in that movie you offered.”

  “No biggie.” Ellis hoped her cavalier tone hid the lie. “Besides, it might be awhile before I can make good on that invitation.” She made a face and trained her gaze on her foot.

  “That reminds me, you’re due for your meds.” Mary swept a glance around the room. “What did Natalie do with your bottles of pills?”r />
  “I think I saw her put them in her pocket when you first came into the room.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Mary set off for the back part of the house.

  Once again, Ellis reached down and found Sam’s soft head to caress. She thought that if her damn foot didn’t hurt so bad, she could fall asleep. The next thing she was aware of was Mary shaking her gently by the shoulder.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead. No telling what that foot will feel like if we don’t get these drugs into you.”

  Ellis roused herself. “Sorry, guess I nodded off.” She noted that Mary was now wearing sweatpants with a T-shirt under a flannel shirt. “Must be the drugs.”

  Mary grabbed the ottoman and pulled it nearer the sofa. “Sleep is probably the best thing for you, but you need to eat.” She sat down and stretched her legs—halfway across the room, in Ellis’s estimation. “Plus, we’ve got to get some ice on that ankle, and you’re already about two hours past when you should have had another painkiller.”

  “What time is it, anyway?” Ellis looked toward the window and saw lights on in the house across the street.

  “Almost seven-thirty.”

  “Wow. How long have I been asleep?”

  “Only about ten minutes since the last time I saw you.”

  “I meant altogether.”

  “We got back here just after two, so you’ve had a good five hours of sack time.”

  “I don’t even remember leaving the hospital.”

  “I can believe it. You snoozed in the truck almost the whole way home.” Mary rose from the ottoman. “Are you hungry? How about a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup?”

  “Now that you mention it, I’m starving. Soup and a sandwich sound fantastic.” Ellis stretched, but stopped when her ankle protested the pull on the muscle. “You’re right. I need a pain pill.”

  “Maybe you should eat something first. I’ll bet you haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

  “Which I didn’t eat. I was going to get something on my way to my first landscaping job—oh, crap.” Ellis slapped herself in the forehead with the heel of her palm. “Fredrick is going to kill me. He’ll be so pissed that I didn’t get those bushes trimmed for his party tonight.”