“Mrs. Lovesong, on the plans that you approved, the swings were on the right side of the playhouse to allow for the open window over the little kitchen to look out on the pasture.”
She pursed her lips.
“I’ve been trying to tell her that,” Mr. Lovesong said. “She insisted the swings were on the left.”
“The plans are in my truck, let me go get them.”
That was when she sighed, deeply. “No. No. You don’t have to go get them, Truitt. I seem to recall now. I had forgotten about the little window. The girls will love that.”
“The monkey bars are on the left, which you had wanted for the boys. It’s up and out of the way of the window.”
She beamed up at me. “That’s right! I remember now. You’re so amazing!”
Mr. Lovesong mumbled something about her being ridiculous, but she ignored him and gave me a flirty smile.
“Truitt, it looks like they’re having an issue with the crane and the upper deck of the playhouse,” Jack said.
We quickly took off toward the house. Climbing up on the ladder, I helped to guide the structure into place. Then I felt the ladder move slightly and looked down to see only Mrs. Lovesong standing there.
“You’re going to get hurt, Truitt! Please, get down. Let my husband do that!”
“What the hell? I have no idea what he’s even doing. Will you let the man do his job?” Mr. Lovesong said.
“Truitt, darling, please come on down, let my husband climb on up there.”
“You do realize I’m standing right the fuck here,” Mr. Lovesong said.
“Your language, Garth!”
“Is warranted in this situation. Holy shit, Marge. You’re shamelessly flirting, with your husband—who happens to be paying for this—standing right here.”
“I am not flirting!” she hissed, then glanced up at me and smiled. I shook my head and focused back on what I was doing. Once the upper piece was in place, Jack and I secured it to the bottom. I started back down the ladder and heard Mrs. Lovesong start going on about safety. Why in the hell she hadn’t cared about Jack’s safety, I had no idea.
“I’ve got the ladder!” Mrs. Lovesong stated.
“Get away from there. They’ve already told you that you’re in the way and it’s dangerous!” Mr. Lovesong shouted.
“Why must you shout!” she said, turning and somehow pushing her hand off with ungodly strength, sending the ladder over, with me still on it.
“Oh, shit.” I attempted to jump off and land like a graceful cat. Instead, I heard something pop in my ankle as I rolled onto the ground and a few more curse words spilled from my mouth.
“I know what a broken ankle feels like, Jack. This is not one,” I said, my jaw clenched tight. It might not have been broken, but Jesus H, it hurt like a bitch.
“Roger told me to bring you to the ER to be sure. He also told me to make sure you asked for the hot doctor again.”
I rolled my eyes.
As we walked, or I limped, up to the check in, I caught a glimpse of the nurse Roger had slept with. Lucy was her name. At least, I thought that was her name. She lifted her hand and waved.
“Wow! Back two times in one week. Hate to tell you this, but Dr. Turner isn’t here today.”
I let out a humorless laugh. She chuckled and then leaned down to whisper something to another nurse. The girl who was checking me in spoke, drawing my attention back to her.
“Rose?” I asked with a smile.
“Close, June.”
I frowned and tilted my head, then looked at Jack. He was attempting to keep from laughing.
“We’re going to have to start giving you frequent flyer miles as much as you come visit us, Mr. Turner,” June said.
“Ha! Wouldn’t that be something,” I replied.
After she checked me in and took my copayment, I was whisked away to have my ankle X-rayed.
“No vitals?” I asked the guy who was pushing me.
“They’re a nurse short. A new nurse started today. She’s normally labor and delivery, so she’s running a bit slow. You’d think they would remember working in the ER. Or, maybe it’s that they try to forget.”
“And you are?” I asked.
“I’m your X-ray tech, dude. You have a bit of a reputation here at the hospital.”
“Is that so?” I said with a chuckle. “Good, I hope.”
“Well, if you ask any of the nurses, they’ll tell you they love it when you come in.”
Another laugh escaped.
After they twisted and positioned my ankle in ways that nearly had me tearing up, they brought me back to one of the dreaded little ER rooms with the curtains. I was going to have to make a hefty donation to the hospital simply so I could have a private room.
Yes. I was here that much.
“The nurse will be right in,” the X-ray tech said. “Hopefully you get the new one.” He leaned in closer. “She’s hot as hell.”