“I’d be fine bringing him up to speed,” another says, giving me a playful wink.
“I brought my copy of the book.” I wave the orange hardcover at the group. “But I have to admit, I didn’t quite finish it.”
I read three chapters of the book after I bought it this afternoon. I thought that was a good start.
“You… where did you get a copy?” Sophie stammers.
“Thereisa bookstore in town,” I remind her with a smirk.
“Yes, but…” she shakes her head, still smiling and very flustered. “Sit down. This is Pat and Michael—” Married couple.
“Laura and Nancy and Beth and Eric.” Sophie points to each in turn. Laura was the playful smile, and Nancy was the first to speak. “Everyone, this is Ashton.”
“Yes, you mentioned that.” Laura grins at me. “I know your sister.”
“I’m not sure if I should apologize—”
“Definitely not to me. Fenella bought that yellow monster of my husband’s.”
“You had the Charger.” I glance apologetically at Sophie as I sit across from her.
“Still no idea why he would buy such a thing, especially now that it’s caused all this trouble.” Laura frowns at Sophie’s foot propped on the table.
“It was an accident,” Sophie says. “It was no one’s fault, and especially not the car.”
“I’m okay if you want to blame the car,” I tell her. “It’s not my car.”
“Sophie tells us you race cars,” Eric says.
For the next few minutes, it’s clear that Sophie has told her friends many things about me. I field questions, make small talk, and watch Sophie’s smile grow as I behave myself. Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes shine in the light of the fire.
She looks happy.
And as I lead the discussion back to the book, it’s clear that my being there has made her happy.
Seeing that makes me feel good.
23
Sophie
Beforelong,twoweekshave gone by since the accident.
The doctor comes for a check up—because of course you get house calls when you’re staying at a castle—and prescribes slow walking and a variety of exercises.
I’m instructed to practice rotating my ankle in a circle, and point and flex my foot. Then there are slow toe curls, which are more frustrating than I ever thought imaginable.
It’s a toe—two toes. When the doctors first told me I had broken my toes, I actually laughed with relief. I thought I would be up and walking regularly in a few days.
It’s the only reason I agreed to move into the castle.
Well, one of the few reasons.
But breaking toes is more troublesome than I thought. Walking is a pain—literally. Every step causes a red-hot flash to erupt at my toe and flow through my foot and up my leg. Plus, the swelling has caused my toes and entire foot to look like a sausage, and there is no getting it into a normal shoe.
It’s a good day when I replace the sandal box strapped onto my foot with my Hokas.
Of course, Ashton—because Ashton is still around—insists that my old pair of running shoes aren’t supportive enough, and also offends his fashion sensibilities because they are basic black. The day after the doctor gives me the okay for shoes, Ashton shows up with a brand-new pair. These are pink and orange and really very pretty.
