Winners Don't Have Bad Days (Watty 2020 Winner, Romance)

9. #ToStumble, November 2017

Daya's eyes rounded as Mike tapped his credit card to the parking meter at the medical center. She coughed and dropped her gaze to the slush underfoot when he did not flinch. What little sunshine filtered through the gray clouds seemed to dim further, but he ignored it. Out of the two of them, he was not the one with the cash flow problems.

"You never seem to worry about money," she intimated to her sneakers. Left to right, she pushed the pickled snow with her toe. Melt-water pooled around her other shoe.

A mammoth's bulk of sadness pushed irritation out of his chest. "I live frugally."

Also, I would have traded financial stability for having dad back. But in 2017, you don't get an offer like this. God is dead, the devil is dead. Dad is dead.

"Let's go before you get your feet wet."

"Mike!" she threw her hands up in the air. "I'm not five!"

"Tell that to your shoes." He rotated on crutches, aimed at the medical facility and charged on. His crutch-moving technique became so refined over the last few weeks that he almost loathed to get rid of them. It's been a while since he'd become good at anything new.

Ye gods, what did he want, a lollipop from the doctor? Then again, there were weirder things to be proud of.

Also, all weird things must end.

Once they removed the cast and he re-learned to get around well enough on his own, Daya would pack her two sorry duffel bags, grab the glittering case with her skates, and walk out of his life...

All good things must end.

No, he'd rather not think about it. He'd rather watch her splashing in the puddles on the parking lot. Not a child, huh?

He followed her inside the disinfectant-smelling med-center like it was a gingerbread castle.

"You'll be able to walk today," she promised, rewarding his efforts with the big bright smile, the tense moment forgotten. "I just know it."

Even under the uncompromising halogen lights, she channeled the joy of life. The change of her energy was violent, as if he shifted a stone that held back a geyser.

He loved when it happened, normally in the gym. It was worth every minute he spent there, making a fool of himself by pulling a rope or shadow boxing, although he wished there was some other way of stopping her from sliding back to the shoulders-slumped mood.

He hadn't figured out yet if it was just a personal life coach mode or if it was a genuine Daya. He might never figure it out in the time remaining. Let it be the real thing, for happiness is infectious.

***

The X-ray technician twisted his leg at an angle it refused to bend, guaranteeing a quality image. Mike manfully endured the procedure, thinking about Daya waiting in a curtained away nook of the hospital.

A hug would have been nice, but he didn't ask for one once he rejoined her. "In the sixteenth century, doctors wore long-nosed half-masks."

Daya shifted in her chair. "Mike, that's cool, but we need to talk about something else. I've paid for the car yesterday... So, ah, rent?"

"So, ah, bill for all the personal fitness sessions?" he teased, and covered his eyes with his hand. These dreadful hospital lights, they were a murder on his eyes. "I'll be away over Christmas, if you could house-sit, that would be great, and takes care of anything you owe me."

"I'm sorry, I can't. I'm visiting with my sister in Ontario. She's buying my plane ticket as a gift, and she might get a divorce... I need to see her, and my folks. Nihal would be off from school too, and... ah!" The worried frown that cut in between her brows whenever she talked about her sister's problems got washed away by floodwater of animated smiles.

He kicked himself mentally on his damaged foot. Unlike him, she didn't view a week with family as the closest thing to self-flagellation. What did he think, she'd jump at the opportunity to stumble around his empty condo instead of falling back into the loving fold?

She'd be chasing her little niece and nephew, laughing till her wonderful eyes veil with happy tears, and feasting on curries, while he'd be choking down something vegan at the retreat with his mother and step-father.

If only he could think of a reason to beg her to take him along...

"January then? We'll figure out the rent after the New Year?" His breath caught in his throat. Please, say, yes, we'll figure it out then.

She chewed her lip. "Mike... okay. As long as it doesn't mess with your personal life, okay?"

His personal life was sitting in a blue plastic chair to his right. "I've told you, I've given up climbing women's balconies. Anyone's balconies."

"Wait till the cast is off, and we can up on cardio. You'll have ladies scaling the walls for you in no time!" she said with enthusiasm that he found a little frightening.

He affected a martyred smile. "Oh, no, more problems! I will need to keep a broom next to the window, to deal with the infestation of the unfamiliar ladies. Why anyone would want to lose weight?"

She fiddled with the zipper at the collar of her jacket. "Mike, I know you are not seeing much progress, but your body is still healing, so don't give up. I will review the program, maybe we can check for food intolerances, and I promise you, we'll make it work."

Oh, hell.

The doctor walked in, prevented Mike from hanging his head in shame and confessing his gastronomical indulgences. Oh, Daya, I have sinned. This is not your fault.

"Mike? Try to stand," the doctor said, staring at him expectantly. He must have been saying something about the sheet of film with the white bones surrounded by shadows. His X-ray, and he should have been interested, instead of obsessing over Daya.

In the throes of guilt he'd missed every word that the doctor had just said, but he didn't feel like robbing other patients of timely care by asking the doc to repeat himself.

Automatically, Mike obeyed the command, still far more concerned about what he should do about his white lies.

The pain shot up, and he'd have tumbled if he didn't clutch Daya who dashed to his side.

The yelp he gave out was anything but manly. "I'm sorry, sorry..."

She propped him as if she'd done it all her life, easing him back into the chair. Whom was he kidding? Where the balconies went, this was the only lady he would go climbing for. Where the windows went, he'd given her the keys. His hand wrapped around hers as he waited for the pain to stop tearing his foot from inside out.

"It's okay," she whispered in a tone that had nothing to do with cheer-leading. This was genuine Daya.

And I'm lying to her. High-five!

The doctor squinted at the x-rays. "If it's still painful, let's be on the safe side and keep the cast on for another two weeks."

Mike slowly let out a breath. December, he would make it into December with the girl he had promised to fall in love with by Christmas.