Page 112 of Fierce-Ivan

“No,” her father said. “Nothing moves fast here.”

She nodded her head. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Sore. Tired. I didn’t sleep well last night. Not sure what I’m going to do when I get home. My bedroom is upstairs.”

“You’ve got a couch downstairs,” she said.

He was in a wheelchair right now and she decided she should find out more. “I suppose,” he said.

“And you’ve got a full bathroom downstairs too,” she said.

“It’s not the same as my room.”

“But it’s better than not having it at all,” she said.

Now she was thinking she was going to have to go in his room and get him things to be downstairs for a bit.

Probably get him food to hold him over too. Or he could order online and have things delivered like many others do. Her mother had even done it before. Well, not that she could see well enough to do it on a lot of sites, but she’d had help ordering and then it was delivered.

“I’m going to be on crutches for six to eight weeks,” he said. “And out of work.”

She wasn’t even sure what her father did anymore. Or where he worked, but he’d always been in an office. “Can’t you do work remotely?”

“I suppose. I’ll call and talk to my boss tomorrow. They know what is going on.”

“Sounds like for at least a week you should be resting anyway. It’s your left leg, Dad. You should be able to drive at some point. People move around in life and do things all the time on crutches. Some people live their life on crutches and learn to adapt. You know, like a blind person might.”

He just stared at her. She couldn’t help it. It had to be said. Every word out of her father’s mouth had a bite to it this morning. She’d seen this before in her life.

“It’s not the same thing,” he argued. “This is temporary.”

“That’s right,” she said firmly. “Remember that. I’m going to go see if I can get your papers. Maybe they were waiting for me to show up.”

She took a deep breath when she got in the hall. She couldn’t sit there and talk to him. She was trying to be polite and ask how he was feeling and he was already complaining about how hard his life was going to be for a few months.

“Can I help you?” the nurse at the desk said.

“I’m here to bring home Kevin Key. I wasn’t sure if you were waiting for his ride to show up.”

The nurse smiled. “I can tell you want to get out of here. I don’t blame you.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

The nurse reached her hand out. “Don’t be so sure,” and then winked.

Which told her that her father might have been difficult last night. His tone on saying nothing moves fast here wasn’t lost on her, nor the eye rolls.

The nurse grabbed her laptop and some papers and followed her to her father’s room.

“It’s about time,” her father said. “My daughter is a busy woman.”

She was so embarrassed by his behavior. “Please, it’s okay,” she said to the nurse who was only doing her job.

“As the doctor explained to you this morning, you need to keep your leg elevated for a week. Try to minimize your movements as best as you can. We understand that you might not have a one story home, so limit the stairs to once a day if possible.”

“There you go, Dad. You go up them to bed and have a bathroom there; in the morning you get ready and then come down for the day until it’s bedtime again.”

Her father frowned at her. “I’m not sure I can do it right away.”