Chapter Six – Steph's Broken Arm
Ughhhhh! It's a giant pain in the butt when you have a broken arm. The only saving grace is that it's not my dominant arm, but plenty of things are more difficult, if not impossible, to do when your arm is cast from your hand up to your elbow.
My mom called me while Ranger was driving us back to RangeMan. Yeah, one of his cars was in the parking lot, and I had no idea how that happened since he came with me in the ambulance. The man was magic.
"Hello…Ma, stop. It was an accident…Okay, it wasn't an accident. But I was in the wrong place at the wrong time…Yes, I do think it could have happened if I were married…Because all I was doing was shopping at Costco! You know who else was in Costco at the time? Housewives…Alright, I'm sorry…No, I can't. My arm hurts, and I just want to go to bed…Maybe tomorrow…Okay. Yes, I promise…See you tomorrow…I know, six o'clock…Okay, bye."
After disconnecting, I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes. Why did my mother always get on my case about everything? This wasn't even my fault.
"Everything alright?" Ranger asked, concern lacing his voice.
Without opening my eyes, I nodded. "Yeah. My mom is demanding I come over for dinner tomorrow."
"Did she blame you for what happened today?"
I laughed, opened my eyes and looked over at him. "She blames me for everything. I can never do anything right. The only time she was ever happy was when I married my ex-husband. You can imagine what she said when I divorced his cheating ass."
"So, why are you going there for dinner tomorrow if all she's going to do is berate you for everything you do?" he asked.
I sighed. "It's just easier to give in."
Ranger didn't respond, and I wondered if it was just my imagination that I could detect a hint of disapproval in the air. We arrived at RangeMan five minutes later, and I thanked him for coming to the hospital with me.
"De Nada, Babe," he replied. I stared at him in shock. Did he just call me Babe?
In a daze, I took the elevator upstairs to the sixth floor. The elevator rose, and I started to get a funny feeling in my stomach. As the elevator doors swished open and the soft ding announced my arrival to the empty hallway, Ella's door opened, and she hurried over to me. She must've been waiting by her door and listening for the elevator.
"Oh my gosh, dear, are you okay?" She clucked her tongue sympathetically as she took in my casted arm in a sling around my midsection.
"I'm okalee-dokalee," I said as I smiled brightly.
Ella gave me a strange look. "Oh, dear. Did they give you painkillers at the hospital? Let's get you settled inside." She led me to my apartment and used her fob to unlock the door. She held it open and waited to come inside behind me, then sat beside me on the couch. "Why don't you take a couple of days off, dear? It must hurt."
I smiled. "I think I'm on some good painkillers right now because it doesn't hurt so much. But maybe when they wear off. You know, I broke my arm when I was a kid. I jumped off the garage roof and went splat. Thought I could fly. When I hit the ground, I figured out I couldn't. My mom was so angry."
Ella smiled sympathetically and patted my hand. "I wouldn't recommend jumping off the roof to see if you can fly, but I love your adventure and sense of adventure, Stephanie. Never lose that for anyone."
We talked for a bit longer until I was struggling to keep my eyes open. Ella helped me change into pyjamas and get into bed, and I nodded off immediately.
The next morning, I woke to the sun shining through the curtains. Frowning, I checked the alarm clock and was startled to see it was already nine o'clock! I was halfway to my feet when I remembered my arm, mainly because it started throbbing at my sudden leap from the bed, and I remembered Ella telling me to take a couple of days off. She must've turned off the alarm clock before she left. I settled back onto my pillow and sighed. I couldn't believe I had broken my arm on a simple trip to Costco. Oh, gosh! How would I cook a huge turkey dinner with a broken arm?
I couldn't let the guys down. I know they'd understand, and I wasn't even sure they knew I was planning to cook since they knew Ella was going to her son's house this year, but I knew and wanted to do this for them. Some of the men didn't even have families, and it was the least I could do for those who'd done so much to welcome me to RangeMan.
I blew out a breath. I'd have to discuss this with Ella. Maybe she'd have an idea for me. Taking care not to jostle my broken arm, I gingerly got out of bed and went into the bathroom.
Forty-five minutes later, I found Ella in the kitchen and sat on the stool at the edge of the counter. "Good morning," she said. "How are you feeling this morning?"
I shrugged. "My arm aches a little, but it's mostly okay. I don't need any painkillers or anything."
"Well, if your arm starts hurting, make sure you take something to help."
I smiled. "I will. So, I was thinking, what will happen with Christmas dinner now? Do you think I can still cook with a broken arm?"
"Hm. I'm not sure, dear. Christmas is in a week. Since it's not your dominant hand, you can probably do some things if it's not too painful. But you probably wouldn't be able to lift the heavier things, like the turkey. Are you sure you still want to cook such a large meal?"
I nodded. "I'd really like to. I know the guys would understand, but I'd still feel like I was letting them down."
Ella smiled gently. "I'm glad you know they'd understand. But if you still want to cook, let's see if we can work something out for dinner. Now, I believe I told you to take a couple of days off. I'm not delusional enough to think you'll sit quietly in your apartment and rest, but you can't work today. So, scoot!"
I laughed. "Yes, ma'am. But I'm coming back to work tomorrow. We'll figure out something where my broken arm won't get in the way. And today, I'll try to figure out something for the Christmas dinner."
The rest of the day was so freakin' boring. I watched television, had a long bubble bath after I wrapped my cast in a plastic bag, took a nap, and played stupid games on my phone. However, I had to find some games I could play with only one hand.
I went to the break room to get some dinner, pleased to find Ella had made some of her delicious chicken soup. It featured something called yucca in addition to chunks of chicken and vegetables. Her crusty bread accompanied the hearty soup, and I had two bowls before I felt sated.
I spent a couple of hours talking with anyone who came into the break room. Lester regaled me with stories of his time in the Army Rangers. He told me about the time Ranger was shot after a group of them had parachuted into the jungles of Venezuela to rescue a group of hostages. Tank chimed in and told me about the time they were on leave in Brazil during Carnaval and managed to take three women back to the hotel with him at the same time. "Before he got married, Lester here was a bit of a player," Bobby said, and we all laughed while Lester groaned good-naturedly.
"Steph, I heard you are cooking the Christmas dinner," Tank said.
"I want to," I replied. "I'm just a little worried about doing it with a broken arm."
"I'll help you, Babe," Ranger said as he entered the break room. As he made eye contact with the others, they all made excuses and quickly left. He sat at the table and took in my cast. "How's the arm feeling?"
I shrugged. "It's okay. Ella wanted me to rest today, and I did, but I'm so bored. I had to come out and talk to someone." His face twitched into an expression I could only describe as thinking about smiling, and I continued. "Were you serious about helping me with Christmas dinner? Ella told me you and Tank usually cover for the guys who go home for Christmas. Won't you be busy working?"
"Tank and I are only on call this year. Ram, Hal, Bobby, and Bones are also staying at RangeMan for the holidays, so we have enough staff and contract workers to run the surveillance and patrols. Tank and I will do monitor duty after dinner."
I think that was the longest sentence Ranger had ever spoken to me. "Well, if you don't mind helping, I could probably use it," I admitted. "I won't be able to lift the turkey into the oven by myself. Or slice it up, come to think about it. I don't really know what else I'll have trouble with. It's not my dominant hand, but I'm still used to using two when I work."
Ranger nodded. "No problem, Babe. What time does the turkey need to go into the oven?"
"Ella said no later than seven am. That means I need to be in the kitchen by six to prep the turkey for baking."
"I'll come around oh-six-thirty, then." And he walked out of the break room.
After that, I returned to my apartment and put Ocean's Eleven into the BluRay player. Snuggling on the couch with a fluffy blanket, pillow, and George Clooney for a couple of hours sounded like an excellent way to end the day. But there was no way I was staying home tomorrow.
