Page 29 of Persuading Penny
“That’s okay, sweetie.” Reagan looked at me with uncertainty in her eyes.
I rushed to Tommy, who sat on the floor just beneath his window. Holding his little fingers in his hand, he looked at us, his face red and streaked with tears.
I knelt before him, but instead of looking at his hand, I noticed a red gash on his forehead. I looked up at the window sash and noticed a small smear of blood.
“My fingers hurt,” he cried holding his hand out to me.
“And what about your head? Does this hurt?”I pressed lightly on the edges of the scrape.
He shook his head as he put his injured hand in mine. His fingers were red.
“What happened, Tommy?”Reagan said as she knelt beside me.
“The window,” he cried, pointing up above him.
“The window smashed your fingers?”I said.
With a fresh stream of tears, he nodded.
“And did it scrape your head?”
He nodded again.
Concerned he might have a concussion, I looked into his eyes. “Now, try to remember, Tommy. Did the window fall down on your head? How did this happen?”
He thought for a moment. “I open the window then lean my head on it to hold it up, but it didn’t stay, and it fell and it smashed my fingers.” He blubbered through the last words.
I glanced at Reagan and then back to Richard. “I’m so sorry. These windows can be tricky sometimes.”
“Is he okay?”Reagan said, quick to trust my judgement.
“The injury on his forehead looks superficial. The window seems to have just scraped a little of the top layer of skin. There’s no swelling or bruising. Could you bring me a clean wet cloth please?”I shot back to whoever could bring me a cloth.
Standing at the door, Cliff nodded and disappeared for a moment only to return with the damp cloth.
“Thank you,” I said as he handed it to me.
I dabbed the cloth lightly against the scrape on Tommy’s head.
“Ooh,” the little boy let out.
“Yeah, it burns a bit, doesn’t it?”
He nodded.
“But it’s nothing serious. I assure you. Now, let’s look at these fingers.”
I moved his little finger a bit. “Does that hurt?”
Sobbing, he shook his head.
“How about this one?”I said, trying another digit, and another.
Again and again, he shook his head.
But as I moved his index finger, he immediately cried out.
I looked at Reagan. “I don’t think the other fingers are broken, but this one might be. You should have him checked out at the clinic to be sure. We could put some ice on that...gently.”
