Halfway home, Lisa tapped Ryan’s thigh and pointed to a local pharmacy in Laketon.
“Can you drop me there, please? It’s only a few blocks to the house; I can walk it.”
“I’ll wait.”
“No, really. You need to get to the clubhouse.” He reluctantly agreed.
“Not sure what time I’ll be done working,” he told her, as if they were already a couple and he was sharing his day. It was one of his best personality traits that Lisa had appreciated over the past few weeks. He never put pressure on her to give more than she was willing, but he was open and happy to share every detail of his life. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” Lisa smiled. “Have a safe day.”
He’d climbed out of the truck with her, coming around to her side before she could object. Ryan cupped her face and bent down, planting a kiss on her lips. Just a quick touch and she was dizzy with craving. She could eat this man alive, one hungry bite at a time, leaving no crumbs behind.
“See you soon.” He rasped, and words failed Lisa, so she nodded back, watching until his truck drove down the street.
After a swift pharmacy purchase of necessities, she grabbed a to-go latte from the adjacent cafe before walking toward the crosswalk to begin her few-block journey home.
What would have been a four-minute walk to her house turned into a nightmare before Lisa even realized what was happening.
Because she was a rule follower and never jaywalked, she waited for the proper time to cross the street. People would expect to be safe if they obeyed traffic laws – cars were supposed to yield to pedestrians in that situation. So, as Lisa was sipping her latte, a white delivery truck just barreled towards her, not slowing down one bit. It seemed to happen in slow motion, yet fast. Had it not been for the good Samaritan who yanked Lisa’s forearm so she spun around, the brunt of the hit from the front of the truck against her hip would have been so much worse.
As it was, she was still half-launched across the road; the last thing she knew was the feel of her head hitting the curb. Her purchases and purse were scattered around her like confetti, and the pain of having her first road accident was radiating through her skull like a tambourine.
And then she knew no more, dragged into blackness.
* * *
Lisa came to on a hospital gurney. Her nurse friend, Lottie, was standing close by, checking her vitals.
“Good, you’re awake. You gave me a fright when I saw it was you. Nothing is broken, just a few scrapes,” she let Lisa know right away. “But you had a nasty knock on the head. The gentleman who stayed with you until the ambulance came said your head took the brunt when you got knocked down.”
“Was anyone else hurt?” she asked groggily. Thankfully, she could sit up, but her head hurt as if she’d been battered with every pan in her kitchen cabinet.
“Only you, babe. It was a hit and run.”
“I didn’t see it until it was too late.” She said, massaging her temples. “How long was I out for?”
“Not long. You need to have a C.T. We’re waiting for you to be taken up to that department.”
“When can I go home?”
“As soon as we know your brain is still in the right place.” Smiled Lottie. Then her nurse friend went through some cognitive tests, which Lisa passed. She was actually pissed off that her afternoon had been derailed.
“The guy brought your purse; it’s there,” Lottie told her.
“Is he still here? I’d like to thank him.”
“He didn’t wait around; he said he was collecting his grandchildren.”
When Lottie slipped through the E.R. room’s closed curtain, Lisa pulled out her phone and saw that Ryan had called her thirty minutes ago. She cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. Even as the pain shot through her skull, she typed him a message that she’d call him later. Not wanting to bother him, knowing he was busy, she’d tell him about this tonight, hopefully when she was at home.
But on the brink of that thought, just as she put her head back to rest her eyes for a moment, the curtain dramatically swished open with one pull, and the man she’d been thinking about stood there. A soaring dynamo of a scowling man with his pinched eyebrows and burning stare.
He was holding his phone in one hand. Lisa visibly swallowed as she sat up straighter on the gurney, her fingers inching down to her knees, where the skirt she’d chosen that day had ridden up slightly. She tried to cover her scraped knees with the white dressings.
“Ryan...” she sighed, mesmerized by his whole vibe.
“You’ll call me later...” he gruffed. “Not hey, Ryan, I’m in the E.R. You’ll call me later, Lisa?” His voice grated slowly over every word, and she got the distinct impression he was angry.
