“Which one?” His voice is strictly business.
Sighing, I relent. “My right.”
Pulling my ankle into his lap, he unzips my boot and pulls it off.
“Holly! Your ankle is the size of a softball. How did you walk on this?”
“Er, carefully?” I laugh nervously, looking down at my ankle, which is, in fact, the size of a softball. “Honestly, it didn’t even feel swollen.”
“Probably because you’re cold and in shock,” he says in a chastising tone. I can tell by the way he’s examining my ankle that he’s in doctor mode. “Holly, we need to get some ice on this.Hey Mom, could you please get me an ice pack?” he yells at Tina, who’s in the kitchen.
“Of course,” she shouts, and a few seconds later she emerges with a bag of frozen peas in her hand. “Oh sweetheart, you walked on that? You must be in so much pain!”
“I’m fine, honestly. I didn’t even feel it or know it was swollen until Lincoln pulled my boot off.”
“I’m glad you said something,” Lincoln’s brow laced together, “but I really wish it hadn’t happened. You shouldn’t drive on this. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s only going to make it worse.”
Groaning, I cover my face with my hands, talking through my fingers, “I know, but I need to get back.”
He looks at me with questions in his eyes as I lower my hands.
Lincoln doesn’t know about my family or that I have no one to go home to.
Well, no one, except for Potato, and he’ll be pissed if I don’t make it back to feed him his wet food by morning.
“Sweetheart,” Tina drawls. “Are you sure you won’t just stay?”
“You can take my bedroom,” Lincoln encourages. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Tim gives his son a sideways look at that suggestion, but thankfully keeps his comments to himself.
“I really can’t stay,” I stress. “I have to get home to my cat.”
“You don’t have a friend who can check on him?” A worry line creases Tina’s forehead, and it sends a pang through my heart. Hesitating, I glance at the three sets of eyes on me.
“I mean…” I sigh. “Let me make a quick call.”
Tina claps her hands together with excitement. “Yes! Call whomever you need to. Because you driving at night, in thesnow, withthat,” she looks at my ankle, “is not safe. And I’d never forgive myself if you left and something happened to you.”
“You’re very sweet,” I tell her. “Let me try to get ahold of my friend who lives in my building and see if she can keep an eye on Potato for me.”
“Your cat's name is Potato?” Tim chuckles.
“You should see him! It’ll make so much sense.”
“I’d love for you to show us a picture when you’re off the phone.” He smiles, then waves his hand in my direction. “Go make your call.”
“I will.”
Hobbling down the hallway of the Stokes’ home, I pull up my messages and send a text to Genesis, not really wanting to bother her on Christmas Eve, but grateful we exchanged keys shortly after becoming friends.
Hey! I got stuck in Julian, hurt my ankle and can’t drive home tonight. Would you mind feeding Potato his wet food in the morning? I’m so sorry to ask for a favor on Christmas.
Pressing my back against the wall, I slide down and sit on the floor, waiting to see if Gen texts back quickly. She has an addiction to technology and usually her responses come through immediately. I’m unsurprised to find that tonight is no different.
Of course! Are you good? I could drive up and get you if you need me to?
That’s way too generous. I am fine, just going to spend the night at a friend's parents' house. I should be back by mid-morning.
