by L. P. Dover
Once every racer has passed by, I see a volunteer coming toward me with a wheelchair. Great, if this wasn’t already embarrassing enough, now I’ll be on display for all to gawk at until I get to the medic tent.
The medic tent.
“Can you stand, sir?”
I shake my head and hold my hand out. The young kid hooks his thumb with mine, grips my wrist, and heaves my ass up. His friend holds onto the chair and keeps it steady as I sit down. My savior props my leg up and surmises that I have a “nasty gash” on my knee cap. I don’t bother telling him that I think I tore my ACL. I’ll leave that diagnosis to the cute medic. This must be a sign, albeit one that hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.
“Hey Maeve, I have a live one for ya,” the young kid says when we arrive at the booth. She looks at me quickly and then smiles at the boy.
“Put him on the table.”
He and his friend do as they are told and lift me with little to no effort. I try to fight them off, thinking I can do it myself, but they don’t move away. After they set me down, Maeve thanks them, and they leave with their wheelchair.
“Hey, Maeve,” I say, breaking the ice.
She ignores my greeting as she slips her gloves on. “Took a fall, I see.” Her thumbs press into the area around my cut, and I hiss. “Does that hurt?” she asks, keeping her eyes on my wound.
“Yeah, a little bit,” I lie, needing to keep up my bravado.
Maeve goes to her big black bag and rummages through until her hand is full of medical supplies. “Can you lay down?” she asks, once again avoiding eye contact. “Make sure your injured leg is close to the edge.” She returns the table and examines my leg once more. I can’t take my eyes off her. It’s not because I’m fascinated by what she’s doing, but because she’s so damn beautiful.
“So, where’d you go after graduation?” I ask, figuring this is a great opening line.
Instead of answering, she pours something onto my leg, which makes me groan out in pain.
“This might sting a bit.”
Now she tells me.
“Hold still, please,” she says as she shows me the longest set of tweezers I have ever seen.
Holy shit.
“Um, what are you doing with those?”
“Pulling the rocks out of your wound. If they don’t come out, they might cause you serious damage once the cut heals.”
“Oh,” is all I can say. I decided that I should lay back while Maeve’s working. Watching her makes my stomach queasy. I make another attempt at small talk, but she ignores me each time I ask her a question.
Once she has the bandage in place, she tells me I can go. I sit up and slide down the table until my feet touch the ground. I wince and let out a yelp. Maeve turns and looks at me and then down at my wound.
“Did you do something else to your knee?”
I start to shake my head but stop when she’s crouched down in front of me. All I can think about is a nasty crotch odor because I’ve been sweating. Teddy and Dotty’s words come running back to me, reminding me that I stink.
“Uh, maybe I should sit back down.” I heave myself back onto the table and marvel at the fact that Maeve barely moves and continues to assess my knee. She starts poking around my kneecap with her thumbs and slides her hand down my leg to lift it.
“What happened to make you fall?” she asks.
“I had some pain. I might have heard a pop.”
Still, she won’t look at me.
“How often do you run on the pavement?”
Never. “All the time.”
Maeve continues to work on my leg, pushing and moving, and each movement causes me pain, but I don’t let her know. She steps away and then says, “Cameron to Wilcox,” into the radio device attached to her shirt’s shoulder.
The radio squawks, and I hear, “Wilcox.”
“Can you bring me a set of crutches from the truck? I have a knee injury.”
“Oh, I don’t need—” Her lips purse, and she stares daggers at me, daring me to finish my sentence. It figures that the first time Maeve looks at me, it’s to shut me up.
“Roger.”
“My partner will be here in a minute with some crutches. You need to ice your knee, twenty minutes on and then off. You can take Tylenol for the pain and Ibuprofen for the swelling. Every two hours take one or the other, but not at the same time. Call your doctor on Monday and tell them what happened. You likely need an MRI.”
“You can tell all of this by looking at my knee?”
“It’s my job . . .” she trails off.
I feel as if she’s trying to remember my name, so I blurt out, “Kyler Groff. We went to high school together.”
Again, she ignores me. Maybe, I need to turn on the charm. “Do you make house calls?” I ask jokingly.
“I’m a medic and just doing my job.”
Before I can come back with some witty rebuttal, her partner returns. I expect Maeve to show me how to use the crutches, but she leaves the tent.
“Sup, Ky,” Jeremy Wilcox says as he unwraps the plastic around the metal armpit killers.
“Not much, Jeremy.” I sigh and look out over the festival to see if I can find Maeve. “Not much at all.”
Three
Maeve
“Mom, can you take me to the festival today!” Logan shouts from his room.
Groaning, I finish making his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, hoping he doesn’t hear my dismay. Since I worked at the festival yesterday, I was given today off. It wasn’t easy dodging Kyler’s questions and keeping the topic strictly on the subject of his injury. I do not doubt if I go to the festival, I’ll see him again. From what I hear, he’s a big shot banker in our little town. Everyone loves him just like they did in high school. I always thought he’d be a star quarterback in the NFL one day. I don’t know what happened there. What shocks me is that he knows we graduated together. I didn’t think he’d know who I was.
Logan’s footsteps thump down the hallway, and he turns the corner to the kitchen. I hold out the plate with his sandwich on it. “You never answered me,” he says, taking the sandwich off the plate. “Nana says the parade is today. I want to go, but she has an eye appointment. Can you take me?” He clasps his hands together, holding them up in the air with his puppy dog brown eyes staring at me. “Please. It’ll be mommy and Logan time.”
Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, at least until you see your friends.”
He pouts his lips. “Please? I’ll get you another caramel apple. This time I’ll use my allowance money and not yours.”
I don’t want to go, but I’ll do it for him. “Okay, we can go. Let me change clothes first.” I ruffle his hair. “I might even let you play a few of the games.”
He fist pumps the air. “Yes!” Taking a bite of his sandwich, he hurries off to the couch and turns on the TV.
“Don’t you dare watch Cobra Kai without me,” I warn him.
He giggles. “I’m not.”
I hurry off to my room and change out of my yoga pants into a pair of jeans and a thick gray sweater. The wind is brisk, and I know it will be cold by looking out the window. When I was still married to Ethan, we had talked about moving away from Maryland to a warmer state, but it never happened. I can’t imagine living anywhere that doesn’t get cold. I’d miss the snow. It wouldn’t feel right having a warm winter.
Grabbing my cell phone off the dresser, I call my parents. Since they only live three houses away, I know they’re home because their cars are in the driveway.
“Hey,” my father answers.
“Hey. Logan said that Mom has an eye appointment and she can’t take him to the festival. Do you want to go with us?”
“Oh, honey, I can’t. I’m going with your mother. She has to get her eyes dilated, and we both know she drives like crap when both of her eyes are good. Imagine her trying to drive with blurry vision.”
“Seriously, Dan,” my mother scolds him in the background, her voice co
ming through the phone. “I’m not that bad.”
My father and I both laugh. “Yes, she is,” I say to him. I can hear Mom grumbling at us, but I can’t tell what she’s saying. She loves to threaten my dad when he gives her a hard time. Mostly she says she’ll put mushrooms in his food if he doesn’t leave her alone. I love hearing them banter back and forth. When I was younger, I always thought I’d find someone I could joke around with. Ethan and I did for a while until he was never around for me to talk to. It was only a matter of time before we grew apart. There were days I didn’t even feel like I was married.
My mom takes the phone away from my dad and huffs. “Stop talking bad about me.”
“I’m not,” I giggle. “Just stating the facts.”
“Oh, whatever.” She laughs and blows out a sigh. “Tell Logan we’ll see him at the festival. We’re going to stop by after my appointment.”
“Sounds good. We’ll see you there.”
We hang up, and I slide my phone into my back pocket. When I get into the living room, Logan already has his shoes on and is ready to go with his Baltimore Ravens hat on his head. I grab my keys off the kitchen counter and wave for him to go out the door.
“Let’s go.”
We get in the car and head on our way to the festival, which only takes a few minutes. Cars are everywhere, much more so than how it was many years ago when I was younger. With all the people, I know it helps the local businesses. I find a parking space, and Logan is out of the car quick and fast. I’ve never seen him so excited about a festival before. When we lived in Baltimore, we went to many events together, but it never had that small-town feel. It’s one of the things I missed. I like small towns, but I don’t like how everyone knows about everyone else’s business. When I moved back, I had numerous people come up to me and ask about my divorce. My mom claims she only told her closest two friends, but word travels fast.
Logan walks alongside me and says, hey to the kids he knows as we stroll past them. The main strip of downtown is blocked off for the parade, but there are game booths and food vendors scattered throughout the park.
I nudge him with my elbow. “Want to play some games?”
He smirks up at me. “I’ll beat you.”
“We’ll see about that.” We stop at the ticket booth, and I buy ten dollars’ worth of tickets, which will only let us play about two games each. We have to throw a baseball to knock down the three stacked milk bottles the first game we come to. I hand the man our tickets, and he gives me the baseball first. I already know I’m going to lose. Logan knows how to throw a football precisely at his teammates. A baseball isn’t going to be much different. Also, sports were never my thing until Logan came along.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slow and throw the ball as hard as possible. Of course, it flies right past the bottles and misses them. Logan bursts out laughing and doubles over from cackling so hard. “Mom, that sucked.”
I wave him off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know you’re going to beat me.”
Logan gets into his stance and keeps his eyes on the bottles. He has the same look on his face that he gets when he’s playing football—concentrated and focused on the target. He rears back and lets the ball go, connecting right in the center of the bottles, all three of them falling to the ground.
The people around us hoot and holler at his triumph, and he loves every minute of it. When it comes time for him to pick his prize, there are dozens of different choices like stuffed bears, unicorns, turkeys, hearts, and anything you could imagine at a festival. However, he points at a smiling, stuffed avocado, and when the man behind the booth hands it to him, he gives it to me. “For you.”
Loving it, I hug it to my chest. “Why the avocado?”
He shrugs. “You eat a lot of them. Thought you’d like it.”
I wrap my arm around his shoulders and squeeze. “I love it. Thanks, Logi-Bear.”
Eyes wide, he jerks his head around. “Shh … don’t call me that here. Someone might hear you.”
“Sorry,” I giggle. We start toward another game booth, but then I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. My smile immediately disappears, and I grab Logan’s arm. Kyler is standing at one of the booths where they’re selling grills, and I don’t think he’s seen us yet.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
I point toward a booth that’s across the park. “Let’s go that way.”
He shakes his head. “But I want to stop at these first before the parade starts.”
The last thing I want is to get stopped by Kyler. I just have to hope and pray he doesn’t notice me. Turning my back toward him, I go with Logan to the ring toss game booth. Logan uses my ticket so he can play twice. And, of course, he takes his time. I don’t want to look behind me, so I keep my eyes focused on the game. That is until I hear his voice.
“Hi, Maeve. I was hoping I’d see you here.”
Logan turns to him and then looks up at me, wondering why I haven’t responded. Blowing out a silent sigh, I face Kyler. My eyes go instantly to his leg, but I can’t see his knee because of his jeans.
“Hi there. How’s your knee?” I don’t want to look at his hypnotic blue eyes, but I can’t stare at his leg the entire time. Yesterday was easy because I had to help him. Today, I have no excuse.
Kyler shrugs. “It hurts to walk. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”
His crutches are nowhere in sight. “What happened to your crutches?”
Kyler chuckles and looks away. “Trust me. I walk better without them.”
Logan taps my arm. “Oliver and Jacob are by the hot dog stand. Can I go over there?” Oliver and Jacob are Jeremy’s twin boys. That means Jeremy and Kaylee are somewhere at the festival. I could use their help right now.
My heart races, and I want to latch onto Logan’s arm to keep him by my side, but when his friends see him, they wave him over. “Fine,” I give in. “You can go.”
“Wait,” Kyler calls out. He pulls out an unlimited festival pass and hands it to Logan. “I bought this, but I don’t have any use for it. You can play as many games as you want.”
Logan gasps and beams up at him. “Thanks!”
Kyler looks down at his Ravens hat. “You a football fan?”
“The biggest,” Logan replies. “I’m quarterback for the peewee team.”
“So was I,” Kyler says. “I was also a quarterback for my high school as well.”
The last thing I want is Logan getting advice from Kyler, the number one douchebag from my high school. “Your friends are waiting for you, sweetheart,” I tell him.
Logan nods and smiles again at Kyler. “Bye.”
Once Logan’s gone, my number one goal is to get away from Kyler. “It was nice seeing you again, Kyler. Hope you enjoy the parade.” I start to walk off, but then Kyler hisses and hunches over, grabbing at his knee. As much as I despise him, the paramedic in me can’t just leave him like that. I grab his wrist and wrap his arm around my shoulders to help give him support. “Here, let me help you.”
I reach around his waist with his arm around my shoulders and slowly move him over to an empty picnic table. He sits down and stretches out his leg, grunting in pain. “Thanks for helping me. Guess I shouldn’t have left my crutches in the car.”
It figures he’d leave them. “Do you want me to grab them for you?” I offer.
He shakes his head. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“Have you iced it the way I told you to?”
His lips pull back in that familiar smile of his. “I did. It helped me a lot.” The sound of horns echoes down the street, signaling the parade has begun. Great. It’s too late to disappear across the street to head down to my car. “How have you been?” he asks.
I keep my eyes on the parade floats. “Fine.”
“Some of the ladies at the bank said you moved back to town after your divorce. I’m sorry to hear that.”
I scoff but bite back the snarky comment I was going to make. I�
�m pretty sure he could care less about my divorce. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get your crutches?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. “I can help you to your car so you can leave.”
Kyler throws his head back and laughs. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” He stares at me, but I don’t respond. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him slowly stand. My stomach clenches with guilt, and I feel somewhat bad for being a bitch, even though I shouldn’t. I should be the bigger person and not hold grudges, but sometimes, it’s easier said than done. “I hope you have a good day, Maeve. Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
He hobbles off, and I can’t help but watch him. My mom walks down the path into the park right by him, and she stops to talk to him, smiling and carrying on as if she was his best friend. Mouth gaping, I watch them laugh together. What the hell is going on there? When she sees me, she waves and hurries over.
“Hey, honey.”
I point at Kyler. “What were you doing talking to Kyler Groff?”
She holds a hand over her heart. “He’s just the sweetest thing. I have an appointment with him at the bank to change over my money to a different retirement account.”
“And that requires you to be friends?” I ask incredulously. “Him and his friends were dicks in high school. I can’t stand him.”
Her face falls. “People change, Maeve. The boy’s been through a lot.”
I scoff. “He still seems like the arrogant ass I’ve always known him to be.”
She pats my hand. “Oh, no, honey. He’s not. Do you not know what happened to him after high school?”
“I made it a point not to know,” I answer. “I didn’t care.”
Her gaze saddens. “For starters, he got hurt when he went off to college. It ruined his football career.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?”
She shakes her head. “That’s just the beginning. I won’t go into detail, but I want you to know he hasn’t had an easy life.”
Neither have I, but you don’t see me asking for pity. I have sympathy for those who deserve it. Kyler Groff is not one of them.
