“It’s probably not broken but it’s a bad sprain,” Mo toldher.
“If it’s sprained, I’ll be off the stage for a week,” shereturned anxiously.
At that, I crouched down to her.“Carla, you can’t dancewith a sprained ankle.”
“The ice will work,” she told me.“I just need to give itmore time.”
“You need to see to it and give it time to heal if it needsthat so it doesn’t get worse,” I pointed out.
“It’ll be okay.”
“Just check it out.”
She shook her head with agitation.“I can’t go to theemergency room.This isn’t urgent.I’ll be waiting forever.And I have to behome to let my neighbor go.I pay through the nose for her to come over andstay late to watch the boys.She getspissywhen I’meven later.”
In a normal situation, I would offer to go relieve thesitter after my last set.
Mo would never agree to that, so I told her, “I’ll call mymom.”
Carla shook her head again.“You can’t do that, Lottie.It’safter eleven at night.”
I grinned at her.“My mom loves kids, she loves you, andshe’s the kind of person who gets off on doing things for folks.And you knowTex.He’s the king of wading in when a damsel is in distress.They’ll be allover it.”
“Tex might scare my boys,” she muttered.
This was true.
“Maybe, but in the end he’ll have them eating out of hishand,” I told her the truth.“But right now, they’re asleep and you’ll be homebefore they wake up, so they won’t even see him.”
She looked at her ankle then at me.“I can’t be off thestage for a week, Lottie.”
I reached out and gave her wrist a squeeze.“Just go to thehospital.Find out how bad it is.”I scooted closer on my platforms andreminded her, “And you know, if you have to take a break, we’ll take care ofyou.You know that, babe.”
More shaking of her head.“I can’t ask the girls to help meout.You all have your own bills to pay.”
“You won’t have to, but we will, and we won’t be pissedabout it.We’ll only be pissed if you don’t take care of yourself.And anyway,Smithie would rather cut off his own arm than have you and your boys in a bind.You know that too.”
She glanced up at Mo before she whispered to me, “Smithiehas a lot on his mind.”
All the girls knew about mysitch.Everyone had been interviewed and they’d all been tasked to keep an eye out fora possible crackpot that tweaked them, as crackpots were wont to do.
It sucked they were in on this, and knew this was happeningto me, thus they were worried about me, and it gave me more fodder for nursingthe hugest grudge I’d ever held, this being against said crackpot.
Through these thoughts, I shot her another grin, and after Ihad them, I said, “It’s unusual for a dude, but Smithie’s a multi-tasker.”
Carla gazed down at her ankle again.
“Can I call him?”I asked.“He’ll want to take you to thehospital.”
She gave me her eyes.“He wants to be around to look out foryou.”
I jerked my head to Mo.“He gave me someone who’ll look outfor me.If he knows you’re hurting, he’ll want to look out foryou.And please, let me call him.If he finds out we didn’t tell him this, he’ll beticked,at me.And I hate it when Smithie’s ticked at me.”
This was a lie.Smithie was all bark, no bite.I didn’t tickhim off on purpose, but I didn’t avoid it should such an occasion arise.
Finally, I got a grin from her which meant I got out of mysquat, smiling back, then moved to my station.
Mo, for the first time ever in that room, did not follow me.
