I was lost in that thought when there was a frantic pounding on the front door. Not the neighborly kind, either—the hard, staccato knock that causes you to wake up out of a dead sleep and makes your mind jump straight to worst-case scenarios.
I shot upright, Sarah was already on her feet and halfway to the door. She flung it open, and the porch light flickered on, illuminating two figures on the steps: the twins, breathless and wild-eyed, clutching each other and sobbing incoherently.
The girls burst past Sarah and straight into me, their high ponytails askew and snot running from their noses.
Joey rushed out, “Billie, my dad! He can’t…” She sucked in a breath, panic bright in her eyes. “He fell! He can’t move!”
My heart went cold and then into overdrive. “What do you mean, he can’t move?” I demanded, already moving toward the door.
“He told us to come get you,” Andi said, her voice trembling but steady. “We wanted to call nine one one, but he said no.”
I didn’t even bother with shoes. I sprinted across the dark lawn, my bare feet slapping on the cold flagstones of the walkway and up the wooden steps of the Knight’s front porch. I rushed inside the open door and found Adam sprawled face-up in the middle of the staircase, arms awkwardly askew, one hand clutching his upper arm. His eyes were closed.
I skidded to my knees beside him, scanning the length of his body for blood or bone fragments, anything overtly catastrophic. “Adam. Can you hear me?! Adam! Adam! Adam!”
He started to blink, then he opened his eyes, squinting up at me. He looked about as thrilled to be lying there as he would beto have a root canal performed by a toddler. “Falling down didn’t cause me to go deaf, so yes, I can hear you.”
“Adam, be serious. Are you okay? Can you move?”
“I’m fine. I just…pulled something. You don’t have to—” He cut himself off with a hiss as he tried to sit up.
“Don’t move.” I pressed down on his thigh gently, keeping him in place. “Did you hit your head?”
“No. I dislocated my shoulder, but I popped it back in pla?—”
“You shouldn’t have done that! It’s dangerous.”
“I’ve done it before.”
“You’ve done a lot of things before you shouldn’t do again.”
He grinned, and I was happy to see he still had a sense of humor. “I think I also slipped a disc. I just need help up. Can you…” He nodded his chin, motioning for me to put my arm under his. I did as he suggested as he grabbed the railing with his good arm and, with my assistance, pulled himself up vertically. He managed to stand, but his color went white, and a deep groan of pain escaped him.
For a half-second, I considered whether my next move should be to call an ambulance or fetch duct tape and a brace, but then I caught the twins’ wide-eyed terror, and my decision was made.
“We’re going to the ER,” I declared.
Adam immediately shut it down. “I don’t need the ER. I just need a minute.” He was sweating, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscles jumping.
“Why don’t the girls and I go grab your shoes and purse,” Sarah suggested, clearly seeing I needed a minute to persuade Mr. Stubborn.
“Thank you.” I nodded.
Sarah took the twins by hand, and they headed back next door.
Adam tried to dismiss me, even as more color drained from his face. “Seriously, it’s just a spasm. Give me a hot pack, ice and a couple Aleve and I’ll be fine.”
He was still leaning on me, otherwise, I’d have put my hand on my hips. “You are not dying of internal bleeding on my watch.”
He huffed. “I don’t have internal bleeding.”
“Cool, a doctor will tell us that.”
“Billie,” he said my name as a warning.
“Adam,” I mimicked the same way he’d said my name back.
When I saw he was really going to dig his heels in, I started leaning him on the stairwell. “What are you doing?”
