My Favorite Season

The Costa Rica Incident

I hear a whistle come from my right. I crack an eye open, and I see Anthony sitting on the side of the boat with a beer in his hand. I turn towards him, and I choose to ignore my skin slightly sticking to the sun chair.

I gesture to my bikini clad body, "Like what you see?"

He takes a sip of his beer, "Very much so."

I smile before returning to laying on my back. My right ankle hurts a little bit, so I wiggle it around to try and relieve the pain. "Ankle hurting?" Anthony asks.

I nod slightly, "Yeah. I think it's the MS."

I hear him sit in his own chair, "I could believe that."

I sit up to rub my ankle, "Ow."

Anthony replaces my hands, "It's a little swollen."

I groan, "Yay. 'Cause What I need right now is tendinitis."

He chuckles, "I don't think you have tendonitis. You wore cleats for the first time in years a few days ago."

I nod, "True. They are hard to get used to."

We laugh at the irony of that sentence. I remove my ankle from his grasp, and I stand up to get my camera.  I dig through my purse for it before joining Wrigley on the bow. "Sam! Don't fall off!"Anthony yells.

I wave him off as I begin to take pictures of the Arenal Volcano in front of us. Wrigley tried to eat my camera once or twice, but I eventually get his to realize that my camera is not food. My ankle really hurts now, so I decide to head back to my chair. I go to step of the bow, and pain shoots up my leg. I gasp in pain as the boat races up to meet my face. I put my arms out to catch myself, which saves my face, but not my ankle. My ankle bangs against the ground.

Anthony sighs, "What did I tell you?"

I sit up slowly, so that I can grasp my ankle, "I think I tore my tendon again."

His eyes widen, "You're joking?"

I shake my head quickly as I try to move my ankle, but pain in gulfs it, "No. No. I'm not joking."

Anthony drops his beer, and rushes over to me. He very carefully picks me up, and sets me on the sun chair. I stretch my leg out as he disappears off somewhere. Wrigley walks up to my chair, and noses my right foot a little bit as if trying to figure out what's wrong. I tap my ankle softly for him, and he begins to lick it. Which hurts, but I allow him his attempt at helping. He whines as it doesn't seem to help, and he comes up to my face level. I chuckle and pet him behind his ears, "It's okay, Wrig. I've done this before."

He makes a short growl, and I shake my head fondly, "There's too much testosterone on this boat."

"Well you need all that testosterone in your life," Anthony mutters behind me.

He sits in his sun chair, and places an ice pack on my ankle. The ice begins to numb my skin, and the pain subsides a little bit.  However, I can still feel the dull ache in my ankle. I chuckle lowly, "I seem to love hurting my ankle."

Anthony smirks, "Well, let's not make it a habit, yeah?"

I shrug, "I'll try, but I make no promises."

I watch as he fondly rolls his eyes, "You're gonna be the death of me. With all the worry."

I grab his hand, "It's worth it."

He brings out interlocked hands to his mouth to kiss mine, "Oh. Trust me, I know."
————————————————————

"I swear if one more person gives us the stink I im gonna lose it!" I whisper yell into Anthony's ear as he helps me hobble through the Costa Rican airport gate to the flight that will take us to Florida.