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“Morrow family tradition,” I pass the bag to Francine who smiles as she peeks inside. “You get injured on the ice, you get ice cream.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Stefan.” She sniffs back another round of tears, wiping at her cheek with a watery laugh.
“Don’t cry, Stats, it’s just a little ice cream.”
St. Clair Shores is twenty minutes north of Detroit, and nestled along the shore of Lake St. Clair. The lake serves as a borderline between Michigan and Canada; the St. Clair River feeds into the lake, and the lake flows into the Detroit river to the south. When I moved here, I was drawn to this community almost immediately, because it reminded me of home. Home is across the lake and down the river a bit, so it didn’t hurt that it’s pretty close to home, too. A quick commute to the office, and far enough from downtown that it’s fairly quiet. A great place to walk Stevie in the morning, and sit outside with her at night, when it’s warm, so she can run around.
“When we get inside, Stevie is probably going to be excited to see you. If you think it’ll be easier, I can go in first and put her outside…”
“No,” Francine stops me, her hand on my arm. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be just fine.”
“If you’re sure.”
When we get to the house, I have to stop Francine from attempting to climb down from my SUV herself, and even with the pain in her knee she tries to argue with me. In the end, she lets me guide her to the ground, and take most of her weight as we walk up the driveway to the side door of the house where there are no steps to climb. When I open the door, Stevie looks up from where she’s laying in her usual spot on the kitchen floor, ears perking up when she sees Francine, and her tail wagging so fast it makes her body wiggle.
“Be gentle with Francine, Stevie.” I help Francine settle on the couch in my living room, propping up her knee, and leaving her just long enough to run back to the car for her bags. When I come back in, I drop Francine’s gear bag in the laundry room with mine, and her overnight bag in the guest room. After her bags are dropped off, I return to the living room and find Stevie curled up on Francine’s lap, her head laying against Francine’s chest.
“I see you two are getting caught up” I crouch down beside my girls, and run a hand through Stevie’s coat. The little traitor doesn’t acknowledge me, only snuggles closer to Francine. “How are you feeling?”
“The adrenaline is wearing off,” Francine offers a pained sigh. “I’m starting to feel the pain a little more now.”
“I had a feeling that would happen. Do you want anything for the pain?”
“Yeah, whatever you’ve got is fine. And I think I’d like to try to get some sleep.”
“Not out here,” I carefully lift Stevie off of Francine before helping Francine off the couch and down the hall. “I’ve got a perfectly nice guest room.”
Francine steps carefully inside, shutting the door behind her. I stay close, hesitant to leave her alone for too long knowing that she’s still in pain and her knee isn’t exactly functional. Stevie lays down outside the door, nose pressed against the gap between the floor and the door, waiting for her new friend.
“Take it easy on her, girl,” I whisper, sitting on the floor of the hallway, and petting Stevie’s silky soft ear. “She’s hurt, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. And she’s in pain, but she won’t tell us about it. So take care of her, okay.”
“I heard that.” The door to the guest room opens, and Francine steps into the hallway wearing a pair of pajama shorts and a Union tee shirt that falls to the hem of her shorts. Her hair, out of the confines of her hockey ponytail, hangs around her shoulders. Stevie stands and shakes, nudging Francine’s leg with her snout. “Sorry girl, I can’t bend down to pet you.”
“That’s okay,” I stand, carefully picking up a wriggling Stevie, “I can bring Stevie to you.”
Francine sinks her fingers into Stevie’s coat, closing her eyes and sighing.
“Do you want that ice cream before bed?” I ask softly, and am rewarded with a small – if pained – Francine smile.
“Maybe tomorrow,” she answers, “tonight I just want ice for my knee. And maybe a kiss?”
Freeing myself of the dog in my arms – the dog who runs into the guest room and leaps onto the bed the minute her paws hit the floor – I reach for Francine and pull her into my arms, controlling the kiss this time. She leans her weight into my body, surrendering to me and letting me hold her up. With my hands at her waist I lift her up, carrying her into the guest room and depositing her at the edge of the bed. She sighs, breaking the kiss and pressing her forehead against my chest.
“Thank you for tonight,” she whispers, her arms wrapping around my waist. “I’m sorry I’m not a better houseguest.”
“You’re the perfect houseguest,” I softly kiss the top of her head. “We’re going to get you back to skating form. I’m team Francine. I’m here for whatever you need, starting with ice for that knee.”
Ice. Extra pillows. A light blanket.
Helping Francine get situated in bed, I make sure her knee and lower leg are propped up, she’s covered with a blanket, and ready for bed.
“Is there anything else you need?” I ask, bending down so we’re at eye level.
“A kiss goodnight.”
That I can do.
CHAPTER 11
