The sun felt good against my skin, warming it by its kisses, even as my muscles began to protest I continued on task, pulling weeds and turning over mulch. Munchkin sat on the window ledge watching me from the safety of inside the house. Adorably she rubs her face against the glass as I scratch at her from the other side.
The sound of my phone ringing from inside the house distracts me from the game with Munchkin. Rushing to get inside before the call stops, the toe of my shoe connects with the lip of the top step, sending me flailing violently forward before landing awkwardly with instantaneous pain radiating from my wrist through to my elbow. Tears spring to my eyes.
Gingerly, I pull myself together and make it inside, the missed call had been from Drew. Hitting the call back button, he answers almost immediately.
“Dase, hey.”
“Drew, can you come get me, I think I’ve broken my arm and I can’t drive.” I ask, as I flinch from the persistent pain.
“What? Fuck, yeah, I’ll be there in ten.” Holding my arm flush against my body, I wait outside for Drew to arrive.
As soon as I heard the engine of the car approaching I knew it wasn’t going to be Drew who came to pick me up, silently I cursed him. The car had barely come to a stop before Oliver was jumping out to open the passenger’s door for me.
“Where’s Drew?”
“I was parked behind him, made sense just for me to drive.” Holding the door open, I climb inside the cab, my phone chimes with a text message, the Devil himself had tried to reach out to me.
Drew: I’m sorry, I couldn’t convince him not to go get you. I tried. Don’t hate me.
Me: We WILL be talking about this later, right now I don’t like you very much.
“Are you okay?” My heart squeezed involuntarily at the look of fear on Oliver’s face.
Tears begin to roll down my cheeks again, “I think it’s broken.”
Reaching over, Oliver gently smooths down the back of my hair, “We’ll get you checked out, Sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”
At hearing the tone of his voice the tears fall harder and thicker. The sobs taking over my body and it is beyond me to control them.
“Don’t cry, Dase. It’s going to be okay.” The pad of his thumb brushes down my cheek, resisting the sudden urge to climb into his lap and have him console me further, I watch as the streets whizz past the window.
* * *
Pulling up in the emergency bay of the hospital, Oliver is out and swinging my door open before I’ve even had time to gather my bag and phone.
“Thank you for the lift, I’m fine from here.” Turning away from him, I rush toward the automatic doors not waiting to see if Oliver is following along behind or not.
At the admission desk, a kind faced woman takes my name and hands me a clipboard of forms that would need completing. My gaze drops to the forms and back to the woman on the other side of the petition glass,
“I’m sorry, but it’s my writing arm that is injured.”
“It’s fine, I can help her.” Oliver’s voice comes from behind me, his arm gently taking hold on my left elbow to guide me to the bank of seats in the waiting room.
“I will manage, you don’t need to stay.”
“How would you get home, if I left?”
“Drew or my parents. I should call my parents.”
“I’m already here and I will call them. You just worry about that arm.”
“Thank you but I’ve already taken up enough of your time today.” My hair falls forward in a curtain, separating Oliver from my view as I focus my attention on writing my name on the sheets sitting in my lap.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” There was something about his tone that drew my gaze instantly back to him. I search his face for the meaning of his words. “You’ve taken up nowhere near enough of my time, Daisy. I’m sorry for behaving like a spoilt child earlier, it’s hard to act like a gentleman around you when all I want to do is take you in my arms and carry you off to the nearest bedroom. I feel like I’m suffocating when I’m around you but when I’m not I feel like I can’t breathe.” Oliver tucks some loose strands of hair back behind my ear, the look in his eyes holds mine as if they are the light and I am the moth. “I wish I knew what I needed to do so you’d talk to me.”
“I wish I knew too.” Our conversation is interrupted by my name being called in to see the doctor.
“I’ll be here when you get back.” I was grateful he was not planning to follow me through to the examination room but more grateful he was going to wait for me.
* * *
It was clear from the x-ray that I had fractured my wrist. The doctor ummed and aahed over the film before deciding it would be best to set it in a cast with strict instructions of keeping it dry and resting it.
Dread filled my stomach, dry meant no baking, which meant the shop was going to be closed and I relied on the regular hours to keep my bank balance adequately flush.
“Surely there is an alternative? I need to work to be able to afford to live.” I pleaded with the doctor whose bedside manner left a lot to be desired.
“You’ll just have work it out. Hire some help, or take a holiday at home.” Yeah, as if it were just that easy.
The doctor disappeared momentarily before coming back to set my wrist. He made short work of the cast, wrapping it tightly causing me some discomfort. I tried to focus on counting the tiles lining the walls over the doctor’s shoulder.
Waiting for it to set he wrote out a prescription for pain management and filled out his notes on my paperwork. Trying to decipher what he was writing my attention goes immediately to the section filled out for the Next of Kin, in Oliver’s handwriting was his own name. Oliver James Coxen and his mobile number. I stared at the ink, holy heck, even Oliver’s handwriting was kind of sexy.
* * *
Oliver was busy on his phone when I walked back through the double swinging doors and made my way over to him. Hearing me he looks up and smiles. “Hi. You ready to go?”
“Yep, armed and dangerous.” I show him the cast on my arm and wave my prescription at him.
“Let’s get you to the chemist and home then.”
19
oLIVER
* * *
I couldn’t get the smile off my face once I’d dropped Daisy home after collecting her medication. I hated that she was hurt and I felt helpless to take that away from her or even protect her from the pain but today she’d let me help her and we’d had the first real conversation we’d had in a long time and that in itself had been a break through. Drew was pacing on the front steps when I got back to my parent’s house. He looked wrecked and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You okay, kid?”
“How’s Daisy?”
“She’s fine. She’s broken her wrist but she’s okay other than that.”
“She’s broken her wrist and she’s fine. Are you a fucking idiot, Ollie? She’s not fine.”
“She’s not?” Drew’s impassioned speech had me confused, I saw her and she seemed fine to me.