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“Mom, you know they need you there. You keep the fair going.” She looked over at Allen. “I’ll find someone to help.”
She hung up with her mother, not wanting to argue. She didn’t tell her mother about the park incident or even today’s minor setback. Heather was getting better, and if her mother knew, she would lock Heather up in her house until Dr. Boyer removed her knee brace himself.
“Everything okay?” Allen asked.
“I need a ride to my doctor’s appointment. Do you mind? I wouldn’t ask unless it was important.”
Allen raised an eyebrow. Was that a hint of a smile? “Last time I gave you a ride, you didn’t want it.”
“I didn’t know you then.”
“You know me now?”
“I think I can trust you. You’ve been to my house a few times now. My neighbors can vouch for your character. Your eyes—I mean you look like you can be…” She was rambling. This man would ruin her if she let him.
Allen laughed. “I don’t mind. You’re my last patient for the day, anyway.”
“Thank you.” She hoped her voice didn’t squeak.
***
Heather’s mouth dropped. “Are you kidding me, Dr. Boyer? I didn't fall at the park. It just felt a little irritated later.”
“I understand, but I recommend you skip the tree lighting ceremony. You’re making progress but we don’t want to get too ambitious. If you felt some pain after therapy, you need to slow down.”
She shouldn’t have told him about the incident in the park or the irritation she felt after her session with Allen at the facility. Heather sighed, knowing her thoughts were wrong, but why did it have to stop her from living? “I know but it’s one of the biggest events this town has.”
“Yes, but this is your health we’re talking about. We don’t want any relapses, Heather. You’re doing well in therapy but injuries like this take time. You can’t rush it. You’ve made impeccable progress already, but let’s not push our luck. Okay?”
“What if I sit in the corner?”
“Heather—”
“Please, Dr. Boyer. This is Maple Meadow's tree lighting. It only happens once a year.”
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Heather, you're healthy and in good shape so you've already surpassed my expectations, but you need to slow down. And for the record, when have you ever sat still?”
Her ribs grew tight, restricting her breath. “Fine, but for the record, I don’t like it.”
“I know, Heather.”
She checked out with the nurse at the reception desk and found Allen in the waiting room. A sign on the wall reminded people to take their valuables with them, while a toy corner of children’s blocks, books, a coloring table, and trucks kept the few kids of visiting patients busy. Her heart felt like it was shrinking.
“Everything go okay?” Allen asked.
“Sure.” She didn’t want a conversation, so her voice sounded more clipped than usual.
Allen didn’t ask questions. Could he read her? Heather pressed her fingers to her forehead once she settled into the passenger seat of his truck.
She didn’t even look at him when he helped her inside. Then he turned on the radio. Bing Crosby’s version of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” filled the truck, easing the heaviness in her body.
“You don’t have to, Allen,” she said. “I know this is not your thing.”
“No,” he said. “But I thought it would help.”
She ran a hand down her face. “Dr. Boyer recommends I stay home for the Christmas tree lighting.”
“I’m sorry.”
