Do or Di (31 page)

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Authors: Eileen Cook

BOOK: Do or Di
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“Jonathon,” we both cried out at the same time. We stopped and looked at each other. Jonathon froze in his tracks. I knew instantly this was Brenda. Why did she have to be tall?

 

“Jonathon?” she asked.

 

“Uh.”

 

“You must be Brenda,” I managed.

 

“And you are?”

 

“Erin. I work at the radio station owned by Wolfson.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Jonathon asked.

 

“I hurt my foot on the hike.”

 

“Why were you climbing?”

 

“The live feeds for my show?” I bit back mentioning that we had talked about it last night when he had been at my place. So much for my fantasy that he had heard of my injury and came rushing down, my knight in a shiny Lexus.

 

“Excuse me. Did you come here for our daughter or for your job?” Brenda barked. My image of her of as a shy retiring suburban mom was fast disappearing. She had her hands on her hips. She was scary thin, like a tall, vengeful supermodel reject. You could slice cheese on her hipbones. In her photo she at least looked a bit friendly, in person she looked plain scary.

 

“Is she okay?” Jonathon asked.

 

“She’s going to need stitches.” Brenda paused. “At least three. I told you she was too young to handle a two-wheeled bike, but you wouldn’t believe me. God forbid you consider that I might be right about something.”

 

“I’m fine. I didn’t fall off the mountain or anything, although it was close there for a second.”

 

“Excuse me, but who cares?” Brenda snapped.

 

I looked at Jonathon. I didn’t really expect him to leap to my defense, but a token gesture would have been nice.

 

“I care.” The three of us turned. Colin had walked up. “Scott told me that they were taking you here. I came as quickly as I could.”

 

My eyes filled with thick watery tears.

 

“Well then I’ll leave you in your
boyfriend’s
capable hands,” Jonathon said stressing the relationship for the benefit of his wife. “This is Colin, he also works at the station. He and Erin are dating,” Jonathon said, leaning forward as if to imply we did much more than date.

 

God, soon he would start drawing elaborate graphic drawings of Colin and me engaged in consensual acts. Anything to prove that he and I were anything but familiar. I felt my teeth grind. Who the hell had I been dating?

 

“Are you okay?” Colin asked, and I burst into full-throated sobs. He wrapped his arms around me. He smelled like fresh cut grass. His shirt was crisp linen and did a wonderful job of absorbing my tears.

 

“If we’ve spent enough time with your work friends, can we worry about our daughter now?” Brenda snapped. Jonathon didn’t say a word to me. He just followed her meekly out of the waiting room.

 

“All right then.” Colin dabbed at my face with a Kleenex. I could tell I had transitioned from ladylike tears to full on snot production mode. “Is this about your foot or about Brief Boy?”

 

“Will you believe me if I tell you it’s my foot?”

 

“No, but at least it is something I can do something about.” He sat me in a plastic chair and wove his way through the crowds to the receptionist. I could see him smiling and working his charm. He gave her a little chuck under the chin with his finger and then came back to me. Without a word, he picked me up and started to carry me toward the back.

 

“Hey, put me down!”

 

“No.”

 

My mouth opened and closed a few times. I wasn’t used to people refusing me.

 

“I said put me down.”

 

“I didn’t say no because I didn’t understand what you said. I said no because your feet are torn to pieces, I’m willing to bet your ankle is broken and there is no reason for you to hobble in on them other than false bravado. So what you are going to do is lie here like a nice girl and let me take care of you.”

 

That was the end of the conversation. Colin carried me back to an examination room where a doctor cleaned up my feet, treating the blisters, and then giving me a shot of antibiotics. The shot hurt almost as much as his lecture on properly fitting shoes. Then there was a trip to the x-ray room and the radiological technician who insisted she couldn’t get proper x-rays unless she contorted my ankle into shapes that it no longer wanted to make. Colin was right. My ankle was broken. At last the doctor gave me a pat on the shoulder and went off in search of his prescription pad so he could prescribe some foot cream and a set of crutches.

 

“Should we get you some giant fuzzy bunny slippers you can wear around the office for the next week or so?”

 

I extended my leg to examine the mummy wrapping job the doctor had done on both of my feet to cover the blisters. The right leg had a matching cast. No way were these feet going to fit back into my shoes for some time. I gave a sigh.

 

“Might as well, I lost our bet.”

 

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you in anything other than a pair of killer stilettos.”

 

“I like high heels. They make me tall.”

 

“You’re tall even when you’re five feet nothing. Don’t get me wrong, your legs look great in those shoes, but I would think once in a while you would choose comfort over style.”

 

“Look how that turned out. I buy one pair of so-called functional shoes”—I gave the muddy hiking boots a feeble kick with my one good leg—“and look where it gets me. I didn’t even make it up the mountain in time.”

 

“You would have made it.”

 

“Would have, could have. Doesn’t count.”

 

“I can’t believe you made it as far as you did.”

 

“Thanks a lot.”

 

“It wasn’t an insult. Anyone ever tell you that you’re too high-strung?”

 

My mind flashed to Diana.

 

“I may have heard it a few times.” I chewed on the inside of my lip. “It was nice of you to come down here.”

 

“Despite what you think of me, there are those who think I’m a nice guy.”

 

“Who would have thought they were right?”

 

“Ah, darling, they weren’t right. I’m still an ass, but I do have my moments.” He gave me one of his slow half-smiles. I used to think it looked smarmy, but I could see where it did have its charm.

 

“More than I can say for some others,” I said.

 

“You and Jonathon are having some difficulties I see.”

 

“It wouldn’t be an understatement to say all is not well.”

 

“I would say I was sorry to hear it, but you would know I was lying,” Colin admitted.

 

“The one thing we have going for each other is honesty. Speaking of honesty, there is something I have to tell you.” Colin looked up. “My mom is coming to town.”

 

“That hardly counts as a great revelation. Now if you professed your undying affection for me that would be something more interesting.” Colin smiled.

 

I cut him off. “My mom thinks we’re in a relationship. She saw one of the newspaper articles.”

 

“I don’t think even plucky Pam would expect you keep up the charade with your family.”

 

“Long story, but it makes some sense that I do.”

 

“Fair enough, I’ll play along, but if she asks me my intentions there is no telling what I could say.” Colin’s eyebrows wriggled up and down.

 

“A threat when I’m wounded?”

 

“More like a promise. You know you love it when I keep it interesting.”

 
Chapter Twenty One
 

Colin insisted on carrying me up to the condo from the car. He stated I could master the crutches later and that he wanted to practice carrying me over the threshold so that he could give my mom a thrill. Diana opened the door.

 

“Are you okay? I heard the show.”

 

“I broke my ankle.”

 

“How was school?” Colin asked her. Diana rolled her eyes.

 

“Fine.”

 

“I’ll be checking, you know,” he said.

 

“Checking what?”

 

“Her attendance. Diana and I have struck a deal.”

 

“If I make it to school with no absences for the rest of the term he’ll pay for Rooster to go to dog day care. That way my mom can’t give him away.”

 

I looked over at Colin who gave a shrug.

 

“I’ve long been a believer in bribery to encourage good behavior.”

 

“As long as you admit it’s a bribe, I’ll take it.” Diana looked down at my feet that were wrapped up so that it looked like I was walking on two giant Q-tips. “How did it happen?”

 

“Our dear friend kept going when she should have stopped,” Colin offered. Diana nodded sagely. “Okay, point me toward the kitchen and I’ll rustle up some dinner.”

 

“Rustle it up? What, now you’re John Wayne?” I asked.

 

“What, now you want to argue with a man willing to make you dinner?”

 

“I’d love dinner,” Diana said and Rooster’s tail smacked the floor a few times in agreement. They both looked over at me with imploring eyes begging me not to blow the offer.

 

“You don’t need to make me dinner,” I said feeling slightly guilty. I wasn’t used to being the one other people took care of.

 

“I know I don’t need to, I want to. You wouldn’t let me make you breakfast the other day. Let me do this.”

 

“Breakfast?” Diana raised one eyebrow.

 

“Nothing happened. A tragic set of circumstances, but let’s not muddy the water now,” Colin said, and then smacked his hands together. “How about I just make myself at home?” He wandered off toward the kitchen and Diana trailed after him. In a few minutes I heard pots and pans banging together and the sizzle of hot butter in a pan.

 

I plopped down on the sofa and promptly fell asleep. The ringing of the phone was the first thing to wake me, but then came the realization of the smell of fresh garlic and tomatoes from the kitchen. Someone had been busy. I must have slipped from tiny nap into full blown nap. I could tell that my hair was stuck to the side of my face and I had drooled onto the pillow. Someone had pulled an afghan over me. Perfect, nothing like being caught looking my best. I stumbled for a moment and picked up the phone.

 

“Mm-lo?” I said, my mouth trying to remember how to form words.

 

“Is that you, Erin?” A voice whispered.

 

“Who is this?”

 

“It’s me, Jonathon.”

 

I didn’t say anything for a beat. The sound of Colin and Diana laughing in the kitchen filled the air.

 

“I am so sorry,” he said.

 

“For what?”

 

“For how I behaved at the hospital.”

 

“Oh.” I pulled at the tassels on the edge of the afghan, winding strands of yarn around my fingers.

 

“Is your ankle okay?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. The doctor says it was a clean break.” I wound the yarn up and down the length of my finger. “How is your daughter?”

 

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