Chapter Twenty-One #3
Barb stepped to the side of the bed; the strange woman followed close behind. She was in her mid-fifties, Carol guessed. Attractive,
in an average way, taller than Barb but not by much. Her light brown hair, shot with just a bit of gray, was pulled back into
a neat bun. The bun and ponytail had become the go-to hairstyles of the apocalypse.
“Carol, this is Meredith Parsons.”
Parsons? As in Teddy? Heaven save us. That’s where she’d seen the woman before, at the community barbecue—not that Teddy had bothered to actually introduce his
wife to the woman who had swooped in and taken the job he considered himself perfect for. Ha.
“She used to be a physical therapist, and—”
“PTA,” Meredith corrected, smiling at them both. “The A is for assistant. I never got the extra training to be a PT, but maybe I’m better than nothing.”
Carol’s eyes widened. Had Ted sent his wife to incapacitate her? Well, incapacitate her more than she already was.
“I’m fine,” Carol said. “Barb and Olivia have been taking good care of me.”
“I’m sure they have,” Meredith said in a gentle voice, “but it won’t hurt to let me have a look.”
Wouldn’t it? Did that sweet voice and those kind blue eyes disguise ill intentions?
Meredith pulled the coverlet down to expose Carol’s leg. For comfort and ease, Carol wore loose, knee-length pajama bottoms.
She’d chosen these pajamas for the softness of the material, not for the bright yellow ducks. The ducks were a little embarrassing,
but were the least of her problems at the moment.
Both legs, the good one and the bad, were exposed. The splint, such as it was, consisted of two narrow and smooth planks of
wood tied to the leg with long strips of what had once been Olivia’s too-small T-shirts. The setup was crude, maybe, but it
had done the trick.
“Barb told me it was a clean break, and I have to say, it looks pretty good. No redness, not much swelling. It looks as though
you’re doing well, though before I leave we’ll want to elevate the leg just a bit more.” Meredith looked at Barb. “Do you
have any free weights? No more than five pounds. We’ll want to start upper body strength exercises right away.”
“The problem is my leg, not my flabby arms,” Carol said sullenly. She wasn’t in the mood to be polite.
Meredith wasn’t insulted; she didn’t seem to care at all that her patient was being obstinate. “We want to keep your arms
and shoulders as fit as possible, even work on your core, when we can. It’s too easy to lose muscle tone when you’re forced
to stay in bed for days at a time. When you move to the crutches, you’ll need your strength.”
Damn it, the woman had a point. “My hand weights are in the garage,” Carol said, shooting Barb a look that she hoped said
help me. “Behind the dusty treadmill.” That treadmill had been dusty long before the CME had hit. So had the weights.
Barb nodded, grinned as if she was enjoying herself—which she probably was—and left the room, leaving Carol alone with the
enemy.
Carol steeled herself for whatever pain might come, now that there were no witnesses. Instead Meredith remained pleasant and
easygoing, as she moved to the foot of the bed and showed Carol how to do what she called ankle pumps. Up and down, up and
down, with her feet.
Barb returned with the hand weights, five pounders, then said goodbye and slipped out of the room, closing the bedroom door
behind her.
Now the real torture would begin . . .
But there was no torture. Meredith was all business, walking Carol through more ankle exercises, as well as simple moves with
the weights. She worked with Carol on getting out of bed without putting any weight on the broken leg, and walking properly
with the borrowed crutches, though until Carol’s sore ribs were better, using the crutches was limited. She was pleased to
see the portable toilet, though goodness knows Carol was not pleased at all that she needed the damn thing.
By the time Carol returned to bed, she was exhausted. Whoever thought rehab was easy work had never been through it. After
placing more pillows under the bad leg, Meredith pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat.
“You’re very lucky the break is no worse than it is.”
“Don’t I know it,” Carol mumbled. She was a little breathless, and that in itself was alarming. Here she’d been playing up
the injury so Sela would take over, and it appeared she didn’t need to fake anything at all.
“It’s scary, isn’t it? How what would’ve been a minor incident a couple of months ago can now be life-threatening. Scary,
too, how people change, when things go bad.” There remained a kind of sweetness, a patience, in Meredith’s eyes, which was
surprising given who she was married to.
“I can’t argue with that,” Carol said. She leaned back and relaxed. It was early in the day, but damn it, she could use a
nap!
Meredith relaxed in her chair. “Ted didn’t want me to come here today.”
No shit.
“If I’d heard about your fall sooner, I would’ve come right away.” She smiled. “If Ted knew that, he never would’ve mentioned
your accident to me.”
Against her best instincts, Carol liked Ted Parsons’s wife. She never would’ve thought that possible. “He and I didn’t get
off to the best start,” she admitted. “I imagine he’s happy to see me suffer.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” Meredith said sharply, firing up in her husband’s defense. “Ted can be difficult, I know, and he always
thinks his way is the best way because he’s had to fight for what he has. But he would never purposely harm a soul. He doesn’t
like seeing you, or anyone else, in pain.”
Carol wasn’t so sure about that.
“I wish he and your niece could get along. He was so upset yesterday after that business over the gas. I don’t think he slept
a wink last night.”
Carol didn’t say anything. This woman knew Ted and his faults as well as anyone, she imagined.
Meredith sighed. “He can be difficult, I admit it. It’s— He needs to feel important. It’s the way he grew up, in foster care.
He never felt as if he mattered to anyone. He had to fight for everything he got, and to this day he can be downright unpleasant
to people who he thinks are belittling him. He’s very protective of me. Always has been, but especially since my heart attack
ten years ago.”
Carol sat up a little. “You had a heart attack?”
Meredith waved off Carol’s concern. “Yes, but it’s no big deal.”
“A heart attack most definitely is a big deal.”
“My doctors say I’m fit as a fiddle. I recovered nicely, but Ted has never believed it. I think he’s always watching me, waiting
for the next one to hit without warning. As I said, he’s very protective, much more so than is necessary. If he had his way
I’d stay inside until things are back to normal. He tried to talk me out of coming here today, though of course he knew he
was going to lose that argument.” She laughed a little. “The secret is in spoiling him a little, then he gives in. When I
let him know I wasn’t changing my mind, he drove me down. He was coming down anyway, to see someone. Mike somebody, I think?”
“Mike Kilgore?”
“Yes, that’s it. Usually Ted walks into the valley, but he drove today because he won’t let me make the trip on foot.” She
laughed. “I could make it down the mountain, but I’m not so sure about making it back up, so he was right about that part.”
Huh. Teddy had a good quality that Carol hadn’t expected. He loved his wife.
“Are you still taking pain medication?” Meredith asked, changing the subject abruptly. “Barb told me you were taking some
of her leftover pills.”
“I quit taking them yesterday.”
Meredith nodded. “Good. Next time I come down I’ll bring a bottle of wine, and we’ll break it open after your session.” Her
eyes sparkled, and she gave a mischievous grin.
Wine. Oh, that would be better than the pain pills! She wasn’t much of a drinker, so they didn’t have a single bottle in the
house, but right about now . . .
She leaned back against the pillows and grinned. “Meredith, I believe you and I are going to be great friends.”