“Do you feel safe at home?”

What a strange question.

Daniel said the bathmat was getting old anyway. Yellowed around the edges, suction cups worn smooth underneath. We’d talked about replacing it months ago, but other things seemed more important.

So when she asked, I told her about the bathmat.

It’s funny what becomes normal. A stair that creaks a little too loud. A railing you don’t trust your full weight to. A smoke alarm chirping in the middle of the night. A bathmat that slides every time you step on it. You notice these things. You even talk about fixing them. Then a week passes, a month, eventually they just become a part of the house.

Daniel would never let the smoke alarm batteries die.

When I finished, she wrote something down. She waited. She didn’t take her eyes off of me. Didn’t reach for the pen until I had gotten it all out.

She wrote. The paper covering the exam table crackled when I shifted. Then she looked at me. Her face was that of a teacher. A young mother, a coach. The sort of face that begged for honesty, and made you want to give it freely. She wore blue scrubs that looked cleaner than the weary expression that landed on her face, a cartoon bandage clipped near her collar. Her name tag read: Angela.

“Alexandra,” she said carefully. “That’s not what I asked.”

My mouth opened. Closed.

The door to the exam room swung open and Daniel stepped in whistling a tune I didn’t recognize. Angela turned towards the door and my eyes followed. He carried a bouquet of flowers. Purple roses. The scent of lavender reached across the room before I ever saw them.

He knows me almost too well.

The whistling stopped and his grin spread the moment he saw me.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist running down to the gift shop to grab these for you. How are you feeling?”

“Better, Angela here has been taking good care of me.” Lifting my arm to show the light purple cast.

“Did you tell her about the bathmat? I can’t believe I didn’t replace it sooner, just got away from me. Don’t worry though, we are stopping by the hardware store on the way home.”

“Yeah, actually she was just telling me the story. Unfortunately, falls happen.” Her eyes flicked to the bruises on my arms. “Sometimes people get hurt in other ways too.”

Daniel’s smile flattened, just for a second, then it was back. “Look, I take full responsibility, I have a duty to keep the house safe for us, and I failed. How bad is it anyway?”

Angela stepped towards him. “Radial fracture, some minor contusions, appears she has no significant head trauma. I’ve prescribed some OxyContin for the pain, a bit of rest and that cast should be ready to come off in about three weeks.”

“Oxy? No, she can’t have that.”

“I’ll discuss the medication with my patient.”

“No, you don’t get it, she has a history of substance abuse. Like, she can’t have that. No narcotics.”

Daniel had dragged me out of addiction once. I trusted him to know where the line was. He knew how close to the edge I could get before everything came apart. I stopped looking for it myself.

Angela looked at me.

Daniel looked at me.

My stomach tightened.

***

I knew what Angela wanted me to say. I knew what Daniel wanted me to say. What I wasn’t sure about was what I wanted.

The room settled into an uncomfortable silence. I took to counting the tiles on the wall. Small squares. White, then pastel green. White, then pastel green. I lost count twice.

Started over both times.

Angela made a note in her chart, tucked the pen into her scrub pocket, and excused herself with a comment about another patient needing assistance.

Daniel settled into a chair, worrying the edge of his thumbnail until it bent backward.

White, then pastel green. Forty-seven, forty-eight…

Neither of us said anything.

A soft knock came from the open doorway.

“Mrs. Turner?” A man in a white coat stepped inside, chart in hand.  “I’m Dr. Harris. Mind if I borrow you both for a minute?”

Daniel was already on his feet, hand outstretched before the doctor had crossed the threshold.

“Dr. Harris, Daniel Howell. Thanks for seeing us, we are looking forward to getting out of your hair and back home.”

“Mr. Howell, nice to meet you. If you don’t mind I’d like to talk to Alexandra about how she is feeling, do a quick examination and see if we can get you two on your way.”

Daniel didn’t let go immediately. When the doctor pulled his hand back, he flexed his fingers once before looking at me. His gray eyebrows raised slightly as he pulled the glasses from the top of his head onto his nose.

“Alright hun, how are you doing? I see the cast is set nice, and your chart indicates your pain level as a four. Is that still consistent?”

“Yes, still a four.”

“Good, good. Do you mind taking a look at this for me?” He pulled a small flashlight from his coat pocket. “Just focus on this light, keep your head still and follow it with your eyes.”

He shone the light into my eyes, I followed it as instructed. He listened to my lungs, then pressed carefully along my ribs and shoulders.

Every few minutes he’d ask, “Does this hurt?’

Mostly, it didn’t.

“Alright, well you look like you’re in pretty good shape. The only thing that worries me a bit is the head injury. I’d like to keep her overnight for neurological observation, just to be on the safe side.”

My eyes found Daniel before I realized I’d turned my head. He was still standing, and his eyes moved from me back to Dr. Harris.

“Is that really necessary? She seems to be doing fine, no dizziness, no nausea, and talking fine.” Daniel said.

“Head injuries don’t always announce themselves. I’d feel more comfortable observing her overnight.”

“We’ll keep an eye on it at home.”

“I’d rather my staff do that. If she is still doing well in the morning, we’ll send her home.”

Dr. Harris stood, snapped the clipboard shut, and headed for the door.

Daniel slumped back in the chair, and picked a magazine from the rack. Popular Mechanics.

I found myself back at the tiles, picking up where I left off.

***

Daniel left around seven.

The hardware store closed at nine, he said. Plenty of time to grab the bathmat, maybe pick up a few other things for the house. He said he would be back after, but I told him to go ahead and sleep at home. I wouldn’t be awake much longer anyway, and there wasn’t really a good spot for him to sleep there.

He’d be back first thing in the morning. He kissed my forehead, gave my good hand a squeeze, and told me to get some sleep.

The door swung shut behind him.

I listened to his footsteps down the hall until I couldn’t anymore.

The room was quieter than it had been with him in it. Not that we had talked much, or that he was making a lot of noise. But one less mouth taking breaths, the turning of magazine pages. I didn’t notice it when he was here, but I could feel the absence. I lay there for a while just letting it be quiet.

I had gotten to three-hundred and eighteen tiles when there was a knock at the door.

Angela stepped in gracefully, the door closed behind her without a sound. She checked the IV line, noted something then looked up and smiled at me, her smile came a little slower than it had that afternoon.

“Looks like everything is behaving itself.”

She glanced back at me, her expression softening.

“…Can I ask you something completely unrelated?”

She tipped her head slightly.

“Did you just get that done?” Her smile widened.

“Get what done?”

“Your hair, it looks great!”

I touched it without thinking. “This morning.”

Daniel didn’t even notice it.

“It suits you.” She started to reach towards one of the curls, then stopped herself halfway. “May I?”

I nodded, she gently lifted a curl between her fingers, careful not to tug.

“Oh…” she said quietly. “They did a really nice job.”

She let the curl spring back into place.

“I’ve thought about getting one more times than I can count.” She laughed once, almost at herself. “Then I remember how little patience I have getting ready for work.”

She leaned against the counter instead of hovering over the bed.

“Where did you have it done?”

She gave me another smile.

I felt myself brighten. “Ciara’s on Fifth. You know the place?”

Angela nodded almost immediately. “I do.” Her left eyebrow lifted slightly. “Little brick storefront? Front window full of plants that somehow never die?”

She laughed softly.

“I’ve walked past it a hundred times, but I have never actually gone in.”

“You should. I love the place, Ciara is a great person to chat with too.”

“Maybe after bridge Thursday.”

“Bridge?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much my only hobby outside of work. Do you play?”

“No I have never played, I don’t really get out much.”

“Hmm, you should check it out sometime. It’s great, just a bunch of women getting together to gossip and play some cards when we run out of gossip.”

Her eyes lingered on my hair for just a moment, simply appreciating it.

“They really did a good job.”

She folded one arm loosely across the clipboard against her side.

Looking at her, really taking her in I said. “You should totally get one, you have the perfect hair for it. And once it sets, it will keep your hair looking great through the long shifts you work.”

“Once it sets?” She chuckled a little. “Shows how much I know.”

“Yeah, they tell you not to get it wet for a couple of days. But after that it really is low maintenance. It would cut your daily routine down.”

She looked to the floor for a second.

Then she smiled wide. “Yeah, I think I’ll make an appointment. I could use less fuss in the mornings.”

The conversation found a natural end, and Angela excused herself to make her rounds. Just like that I was alone again.

Three-hundred nineteen. Three-hundred twenty…

***

Sometime after midnight the IV pole and I made our way toward the restroom down the hall. I was slower than I expected. The cast threw my balance off, and the pole had a wheel that wanted to go its own direction. The nurses’ station sat empty, the lights in the hallway dimmed low. It was quieter than the daytime, and I couldn’t help but enjoy it a little bit.

A door stood open partway down the hall. I wasn’t trying to look, you don’t try to look in a hospital. Everyone there had plans for the day, hospitals have a way of changing them, and you learn to keep your eyes on the floor.

But I did look.

Angela was at the bedside. A man, older than me wearing a flannel shirt, a tube running from his mouth to the machines that were breathing for him. His eyes were open. They weren’t wandering around the room or staring at the ceiling, they were fixed on Angela. His hands were flat on the mattress, pressing down, fingers splayed like he was trying to push himself back off of the bed.

Angela said something to him. I couldn’t make it out. Her voice had a different shape than it had when she talked with me. She checked the monitor, straightened the blanket over his legs, then reached to adjust something on the IV pump.

The man’s breathing slowed. His hands relaxed, and Angela wrote something on the chart at the foot of the bed without looking up.

I kept walking. The restroom door was heavier than it looked. I ran the water and didn’t look at myself in the mirror, when I came back out the door down the hall was closed.

When I was back in my room I lay in the bed. Sleep came in pieces, a nurse waking me every now and then to ask some questions or check on pain levels. An orderly shuffling an old woman down the hall to the restroom. Angela never came back in, I was hoping she would.

I heard him before he opened the door. He was chatting to a nurse in the register he used when he was flirting, or being polite. I knew his registers well but those two were hard to tell apart, especially through a thick hospital door.

Daniel came in around seven in the morning. He was upbeat, and well put together. He wore blue jeans and a white button-up, the sleeves rolled up just high enough to show his Engine 43 tattoo on his left forearm. He didn’t usually wear such a nice shirt on his day off, or any day really. He had worn a plain black t-shirt and black jeans to his own mother’s funeral.

No flowers this time.

“Good morning!” he blasted as he swung open the door. “I hope you’re ready to go home. You won’t believe all the stuff I got done last night. Not only did I get the new bathmat, but I fixed that loose stair, and the railing. I even got you some bath salts to use for the next week or two while you can’t use the shower.”

I didn’t say anything, just smiled. I had missed him.

“Where is that doctor, eh, Henry?”

“Harris.” I said. “He hasn’t been in yet this morning. I’m hoping soon though.”

“Ahh yes Harris. Remind me to grab one of his cards, won’t you?”

“Sure thing. Do you think we could grab a bite to eat on the way home? I’m famished and the food here is atrocious.”

“What? I thought they were on the Michelin charts…” He snorted. He slinked into a chair and grabbed the same Popular Mechanics magazine off the shelf, picking up right where he left off.

***

Sometime later there was the familiar knock at the door. It startled me out of my count, Daniel glanced up from the magazine to the door. He did not stand this time.

Dr. Harris came in with practiced efficiency. He grabbed my chart, pulled his glasses into place, and read for a moment before saying a word.

“Well Mrs. Turner—”

“Ms. Turner,” I corrected.

“My mistake, Ms. Turner. I see no reason for us to keep you here any longer. Your neurological report from last night looks stellar, and I don’t foresee any complications. Just make sure you get plenty of rest, fluids, and keep that arm as stable as you can.”

“So no bowling?” Daniel joked.

Dr. Harris gave him a side-eye and emotionless expression.

“A nurse will be in shortly to get your discharge paperwork completed and we’ll be sending you on your way… Unless you had any more questions for me?”

“No thank you Dr. Harris, I think we can take it from here.” Daniel responded before I could open my mouth. “Oh before you go, do you have a business card I could grab?”

“Sure thing.” He dug around in his coat pocket for a moment, finally revealing a card and handing it to Daniel. I could see the creases on the corners and smudge marks from across the room.

And just like that we were alone again.

The room was quiet again, Daniel back at his magazine, and me back to my counting.

***

A soft knock rippled through the stillness. When the door opened I was delighted to see Angela. She entered with a jovial smile, the exhaustion that was there last time I saw her seemingly washed away.

“Alright, it looks like you’re getting out of here.” She looked at me, but stretched out a bundle of papers to Daniel. “Here are her aftercare instructions. Make sure she keeps that arm elevated for the next few days, and ibuprofen or Tylenol as necessary for any lingering pain.”

He took the paperwork and began looking it over. “Do we have a follow-up scheduled or do I need to schedule that?”

She hovered over Daniel for a moment then pointed to a line on the document. “See right here? Follow-up scheduled for a week from now, that’s when the splint will come off and the full cast can be applied. You’ll need to make a follow up at that appointment for the cast removal.”

Daniel smiled at her. “Ahh, yes, I see it there now. Thanks.”

She looked at him for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’re a bridge player?”

Daniel shook his head. “Not really a card guy… now pool on the other hand.” He made a gesture using a ghost cue.

Angela turned to me. “You told me yesterday you don’t get out much. I know it’s going to be a bummer not being able to do your usual hobbies with that arm…” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small beige card. “If you get bored, we play every Thursday at seven.”

I turned the card over in my hand, it read: Madison Bridge Club, 3235 E. 5th Ave.

Just down the street from Ciara’s.

Daniel picked the card out of my hand, and turned it over.

Daniel chuckled. “I can’t for the life of me picture you playing bridge.”

I shrugged.

“Half of us barely know how to play. Really, it’s just a good excuse for us gals to get together and chit chat.”

“Huh, well maybe you should check it out. Might be good for you to get out of the house while I’m on shift.” He said as he slid the card back.

Angela turned to walk-out the door, stopped at the doorway and turned back, “If I don’t see you, you take care.” And then she was gone.

Daniel gathered my belongings as I changed into my own clothes. Man it felt good to put on my own stuff. He grabbed my purse, the paperwork, the flowers, and the copy of Popular Mechanics. Slid everything under his arm, and within two minutes we were out the door.

As we reached the door to the parking lot, I stopped and looked back. Angela was at the nurses’ station. Looking at me, she didn’t wave, just nodded almost imperceptibly.

When we reached the car Daniel opened the back door and put all of my stuff on the backseat, then he opened my door, helped buckle me in before making sure I was well clear of the opening and shutting the door for me.

He started the car as I stared blankly out the window.

One thousand one hundred and seventeen.