Page 43 of Leo and His Love Bunny

“You’re hurt. Is it your elbow?”

“That hurts, but I think I twisted my ankle.”

I had seen her leg seemed to be at an odd angle.

“I’m picking you up.”

“I can do it myself,” she insists, but weakly. I don’t want her on it, just in case it’s worse than sprained, so I ignore her half-hearted protest and scoop her up. I’m as comfortable on the ice as I am off it, and she doesn’t weigh much at all, so it’s not much of an effort for me to scoop her up and start toward the door.

I had totally forgotten about the boys. They’re standing at the door, watching, neither one of them saying a word.

“Is she okay?” Briggs asks as I come over, Nora in my arms.

“I’m fine,” Nora insists.

The boys continue to stare, although they step back and allow me to pass with Nora in my arms. The rink is usually really busy early in the morning, but by this time, most of the before-work people have left, although we hit a really good day to have the rink to ourselves. That, and it’s June, so it’s not exactly the height of hockey/ice-skating season.

I walk to the first bench and carefully set Nora down, trying not to jostle her. Also trying not to show how much I like holding her. She’s soft and sweet, but with enough steel in her that I know she’ll accomplish whatever she sets out to do.

“What else aside from your ankle and knee hurts?” I ask.

“That’s pretty much it. I landed hard on my butt, but my back feels fine.”

That’s good to know. A back injury could have been worse than a head injury.

“Do you think we can take your skate off?” I ask this knowing that we’re going to have to take her skate off anyway. But sometimes it’s easier when you make the decision yourself, rather than having it forced on you by someone who might not know what they’re talking about. I’ve had plenty of sprained ankles, but each one is different, so I hardly consider myself an expert.

“Yes. We have to.”

I want to take her face in my hands and tell her that she’s brave and I’m proud of her, but that is probably not appropriate and this isn’t the right time anyway.

“Is she going to die?” Carson is standing by my shoulder, and his voice startles me. But then I hear the tremor in it, and I realize that he’s scared, too.

“No. I’m not going to die,” Nora answers, and she’s smiling. But I have noticed that she’s definitely favoring her right foot. It’s not sitting on the floor beside her other foot, but she’s holding it up slightly.

“It’s probably going to hurt to take your skate off,” I say, although I don’t want to. I don’t want to talk to Nora about pain, and especially about the pain that I’m going to be inflicting on her.

“It has to come off.”

She’s right. I know it. But I take her skate and work on it as gingerly as I can. She’s fine as I’m unlatching it, but as I start to pull it, she moans, soft and low. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. I know this is not hurting me as much as it’s hurting her, but I think it’s harder for me than her.

Sweat runs down my back and temple. I know my hands are shaking, which is probably making things worse.

“Is her skate stuck?” Briggs asks.

“No. I’m just trying to take it off gently and slowly so it doesn’t hurt her any more than it has to.”

“I think you’ve done this yourself a time or two,” Nora says. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

I bask under her praise. Maybe she sees how torn up I am over it and is trying to make me feel better.

Finally the skate slides off. I’m not sure who is more relieved, Nora or me.

But her sock is still on. Man, I’m not sure I’m up to pulling that off after the stress of getting that skate off.

“I want to take your sock off so I can see the ankle, okay?” I say, looking up into her face from where I’m kneeling at her feet.

“Of course.”

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