Authors: Ruth Houston
"I'm sorry about that," she said quietly as she stood up and put the towels by the sink. She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.
"It's okay," I said. "I was being kind of difficult. You're really strong."
She smiled wryly. "So I've been told," she said thickly, and sneezed again.
"Bless you."
"Thanks." She grabbed another tissue. "Gavin told me he thinks he might have kicked you in the ribs at one point so you're going to have to take off your shirt." She threw the tissues into the garbage and washed her hands.
I complied, and she sucked in a breath once I did. "Jesus," she whispered, drying her hands in a flash and crouching down again swiftly in front of me. Her hands were immediately on my abdomen, fingers running along each of my ribs, prodding gently, probably checking for broken ones. I have to admit, I wasn't really complaining. "I'm going to kill Gavin," she said through gritted teeth, with the most emotion she'd shown so far. "Look at all these bruises!" She ran her fingertips lightly over my abdominal muscles and stomach, both of which were spotted with purple bruises, and I shivered as a bolt of electricity shot down my spine. Winter mistook it for a shudder of pain, and immediately apologized.
"I'm fine," I said. Hmm, maybe I should get into fights more often.
She sighed. "The only thing that's going to help these bruises is rest, and no physical activity. It doesn't look like you have any broken ribs, but you're going to have to go to the doctor's or something to make sure you don't have a bruised one, and have them sign a form that says you should be exempt from running for a while. Your season's pretty much over anyway, right?"
I nodded. "We have the championship meet coming up in a week though. Oh god, the coach is going to murder me," I said.
"If you're lucky you'll be able to run by then," Winter replied. "Where does it hurt the most right now?"
"My jaw," I said honestly. "Don't apologize again, it was Gavin. He decked me there twice."
She gave me a long look, then leaned in and kissed me softly on my left jaw. I was so surprised I couldn't speak. I had thought she was too angry at me still to do anything like that. Goes to show just how unpredictable Winter is.
"It's an old healing thing," she said, looking rather red as she busied herself, rinsing out the soapy towel. "You know, your mom's supposed to kiss you on a boo-boo and it goes away faster."
"In that case, maybe you should kiss
all
my boo-boos," I grinned devilishly.
She retorted with, "
En tus sueños, señor Crowne
."
I chuckled. '
No sabes que ocurrir en los sueños de mi corazón, señorita
,' I thought sadly. Damn, I really was getting good at this Spanish thing. "Thanks for patching me up," I said aloud.
"You're welcome." She tossed me my shirt. "You really need to go see a doctor though. And soon. Preferably today. I'll drive you over to the hospital right now if you want."
I scratched my head, repressing a shudder – a real one this time.
Hospitals
. "Now?" I asked reluctantly.
"You're going to wake up tomorrow morning a whole lot sorer if you don't. It's six thirty right now," she said, checking her cell phone. "We can be back by eight."
I frowned. "It's six thirty and Victoria went out grocery shopping? She never goes out grocery shopping at six thirty in the evening," I said. A little voice in my head said, 'Stalling, Zack?'
Winter shrugged.
I glanced at her, then looked at her again. "You
really
think we should go now?"
"If you're not too tired," Winter said, face straight, though her eyes were twinkling knowingly.
"I'm not scared of hospitals," I said quickly, defensively.
The twinkles became more pronounced. "I wasn't suggesting it," she said lightly.
I groaned. "Okay, okay, let's go," I said unhappily.
xxxxx
"I don't like the look of this."
"It won't be that bad," she said, getting out of the car.
"I
really
don't like the look of this."
"We're not even inside yet," she replied tartly, though I thought I saw her wink subtly. "Come on. Be a man."
"I
am
a man!" I said, offended.
"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say."
I spluttered indignantly.
"Let's go already," she smirked.
We had to wait before I could be attended to by a doctor. As the minutes ticked by I got progressively more nervous. I paced around the waiting room as Winter flipped idly through a magazine. How could she be so calm? I wondered. Every time someone came out of the door I jumped, hoping they wouldn't call my name.
"Crud!" Winter suddenly blurted out, throwing the magazine to the side.
"What?" I asked, sitting down next to her.
"I forgot to call the parentals," she explained with a long-suffering expression, whipping out her cell phone and dialing.
"Hello?" she said. "Mom?…sorry, I – I know, but – (pause) but – (longer pause)
Mom!
Okay, okay, I get it, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," she said, catching my eye. She looked away very quickly and winced. "Alright," she continued, "I was just about to do that. Look, I'm at the hospital right now." Mrs. Bruin did not seem to take this statement well, as Winter had to hold the phone away from her ear as her mother screamed something. "No, Mom, I did not get in an accident. One of my friends did." She cringed again as Mrs. Bruin shrieked some more. "No, Not Eva. No! –
No
, we haven't been drinking –" Winter looked outraged. "–– yes, I
know
that,
Mother
." She rolled her eyes. "It wasn't a car accident. It was…er…well, he kind of got into a fight. (pause)…Mom? Mom, you there? Oh, okay, good… So anyway, we're at the hospital, because I told him he needed to get checked by a doctor…yes…okay…alright…
yes
, Mom….no, Mom.
No
, definitely not…yes. Okay, I know…for the last time,
no
I have not been drinking!" she declared with a growl. I laughed silently. "Okay. Yeah. I will. Bye."
She hung up with a kind of vicious finality and collapsed back in her seat, shoulders sagging. She ran a hand across her eyes. "Mothers," she muttered to herself.
"Zackary Crowne?" the lady in scrubs called just then.
I whirled around. "Yeah," I said.
"You're up," she said kindly.
I shot Winter a frenzied look. She nodded shortly as if to say, "Go." I shook my head frantically. She shook her head and got up.
"You big
baby
," she whispered, looking startled when I slipped my hand into hers.
"Yeah, that's definitely me," I said nervously, already breaking out into a cold sweat.
"They're just going to have a quick look at you," she said softly in my ear as we followed the lady down a hall, the doors swinging shut ominously behind us. "Nothing to worry about. You'll be fine." She gave my hand a squeeze, a rather unsure look in her eyes when she did it.
"Stay with me?" I pleaded.
"Doesn't look like I have a choice, does it?" she asked, indicating the death grip I had on her hand. "At this rate it will take surgery to separate us."
"Hey, that's not funny," I said, "Don't joke about surgery, we're in a hospital."
She laughed quietly but I didn't have the time to delight in having broken through the barrier she had set up because the woman in scrubs had brought us to a room and told us a doctor would be with us shortly.
"Relax, would you?" Winter said. "You're not going to die, I promise."
"Not until the doctor gets here," I said glumly.
"That would be me," a man said, entering the room. Oh,
crap
. I gripped her hand even tighter. "I'm Dr. Meunch. Nice to meet you…Zackary Crowne, right?" he asked, checking his clipboard. His eyes strayed to Winter. "And company."
Seeing I was too stricken to answer, she said quickly, "Is it okay if I stay in here with him?"
"Sure thing," the doctor said cheerfully. "Hop up onto the bench for me, please, Zackary."
Winter gave my hand a last squeeze before she separated herself from me. She took a seat in the chair next to the desk. Luckily the examination room was small and cramped so she wasn't
too
far away.
"So, what happened to you?" Dr. Meunch asked.
"Er…got into a fight, I guess," I muttered.
"You guess?" he chuckled. "Where does it hurt?"
"Uh…my jaw," I said, automatically bringing a hand to my face. "And…my body," I said, indicating the general area of my torso. I saw Winter stifling a laugh behind the doctor, probably at my lack of knowledge in anatomy. I scowled at her.
"In that case, could you please remove your shirt?" the doctor asked. He checked my ribs and abdomen – luckily only touching me as was needed and not any more – and asked me a lot of questions. After a few minutes he told me, "Right. Well, you've got a lot of bruises, but I think you'll be okay. No cracked, broken, or bruised ribs or anything that bad. Rest ought to do the trick. Plus an OTC painkiller. Do any sports?"
"Running," I answered.
"Well, you're going to have to take a break from it," he said, pulling a notepad of forms out of a drawer in the desk, scribbling something down, and signing it. He ripped off the top sheet and handed it to me. "A week of rest and you'll be good as new," he said.
"Thanks," I said, pulling my shirt back on.
"You're welcome." The doctor glanced at my face, and did a double-take and observed me through shrewd eyes. "How's your overall health, Mr. Crowne?" he asked.
"Good, I guess," I said, thrown off by the question.
"Have you been stressed lately?"
"Not more so than usual," I answered. That, at least, was the truth, if "lately" referred to any time within the past ten months or so.
"And you've been eating well recently?" he interrogated.
"Yes," I replied guardedly.
"Sleeping well?"
"Yes," I repeated.
"Are you sure?" His graying eyebrows were raised.
"Yes," I said, very firmly.
"Do you get headaches often?"
"Y––no," I denied. "No, I don't."
His gaze was calculating. "Alright then. Can I ask you something else?"
"You already have," I pointed out.
There was a hint of a smile on the doctor's face. "Do you know what insomnia is?"
"When you can't sleep," I answered slowly, feeling slightly uneasy.
"Exactly. There's three types of insomnia, Mr. Crowne," Dr. Meunch said seriously, "Transient, short-term, and chronic. Obviously chronic is the most severe. Insomnia may be caused by both psychological and physical problems. Other than the physical beating you took today, you seem to have no problems with your body."
"That's good," I said stiffly.
There was a pause. "You're sure you not stressed about anything?" he asked again.
"Very sure," I said. "With all due respect, I don't believe I have insomnia, doctor, if that's what you're trying to imply."
He nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "You're free to go."
"Thank you," I added.
"No problem. No more fights, alright?" Dr. Meunch said, standing up and holding out a hand, which I shook.
"I'm afraid I can't promise that, sir," I said.
He chuckled. "Have a nice evening, you two," he said as we left the examination room. "Exit's that way; take the second left," he added, pointing down the hall, and departed for a different room.
"See?" Winter said as we walked back to the waiting room. "Not so bad."
I grimaced.
"Why'd he ask you about insomnia?" she asked curiously.
"No idea," I said shortly.
She fell silent but I could tell she was scrutinizing me out of the corner of her eye the whole way home.
xxxxx
"Huh, I can't believe Victoria's not home yet," I said when we pulled into my driveway. Winter had been true to her word – it was 7:50. "You hungry?"
"Starving," Winter said honestly.
"You wanna have dinner or something before you leave?" I asked hesitantly.
Our eyes met in the semi-darkness of the car and I felt a funny leap in my chest, like my heart had just tripped over itself. Her eyes searched mine for a long moment and I looked back steadily. Those eyes of hers could be kind of unnerving sometimes. When they gazed into mine I was almost certain she could pull anything out of my soul, knew my deepest secrets and worst fears. As of right now I willed her to pull out the fact that I wanted her to stay for dinner. "Do you really want me to stay?" she asked with a half-smile that could have been wistful.
"Would I have asked if I didn't?" I responded, looking away.