Daughters Of The Bride(130)
Josh’s team won by two. There was plenty of cheering about that. Lena asked if Josh could go to the movies with her and her son. Rachel accepted gratefully. A quiet evening was exactly what she needed.
She made her way to the restroom, then walked back to the field and found that everyone was gone. There was still equipment on the field and water bottles on the table. A cookie wrapper tumbled past in the light breeze. As she bent to pick it up, she felt the telltale jolt of fire in her hip and knew it was going to be bad.
Sure enough, as she straightened, her entire back locked. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as muscles tightened like a vise. Even taking a single step was excruciating. She cried out and reached for something to hang on to, but there was nothing. The benches were too far away. The pain was a wild animal. It claimed her with sharp teeth and claws, leaving her whimpering.
She thought longingly of Greg. Even when things had been at their worst in their marriage, he’d always been there when her back went out. He’d taken care of her, once even carrying her to bed when she couldn’t walk. Too bad she’d lost that in the divorce.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Courtney. The call went right to voice mail. It was the same for Sienna. With her mom, there were a half dozen rings before the voice mail picked up. A quick glance at the time told her that Lena and the boys would already be in the movie theater and that Lena would have turned off her phone.
She didn’t know what to do. Finally, she dialed the fire station and asked for Greg.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I’m sorry to bother you at work,” she began. She could barely speak. She was terrified she was going to start spasming any second. “I tried everyone else first. It’s just...” She felt herself sinking into despair.
“Rachel, what is it? Are you hurt?”
“Josh had a game. Everyone’s gone. I have things to take home and my back went out. I can’t move. I’m sorry. I need help.”
“Hang tight. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Rachel put her phone into her pocket and started for the bleachers. She’d made it about halfway there when she saw an unfamiliar truck pull up next to her SUV. Greg jumped out, spoke to the driver for a second, then sprinted toward her.
Relief nearly made her collapse. She wanted to burst into tears and throw herself at him. Instead, she did her best to hold it together.
“Thanks for coming,” she said.
“Happy to help.” He studied her. “What’s the best way to get you to the car?”
“Let me lean on you.”
He got close and let her find the most comfortable position. She also set the pace. Once she was in the passenger seat of her SUV, he jogged back to the field and collected everything before returning to climb into the driver’s seat.
“Do you have your pills?” he asked.
“Yes. And an appointment with the chiropractor. I’ve been putting it off. I should know better.”
She thought he might tease that, yes, she should, but instead he was all business. He drove to her place and got her inside. When she was stretched out on the bed, he got her the pills and a glass of water.
“Thanks.”
He hovered without sitting on the mattress. She swallowed the medication before handing him the glass.
“I have to get back to the station,” he told her. “I’ve called Courtney. She’ll be here in a little bit to check on you.”
Rachel looked at the man she’d once been married to. He was saying and doing all the right things, but she had the feeling that something was wrong.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You seem... I don’t know. Something.”
He looked at her for a long time. “Nothing’s changed. It’s exactly as it was. Let me go see if Courtney’s here.”
With that he walked out of the bedroom. What on earth? But before she could try to figure out what that cryptic exchange had meant, her back spasmed and it was all she could do to keep breathing. When the muscles released, she looked at the clock and promised herself that the medication would kick in soon and then she would be fine.
“I hated those dresses,” Maggie said, pointing to the pictures in the album. “My mother loved them.”
Two days after Rachel’s back went out and three days before the wedding, Courtney sat on her mother’s sofa, looking at an old photo album. Her parents looked impossibly young and in love. The bridesmaid dresses—a hideous green with big bows in the front—were unfortunate.
“Was it the style back then?” she asked.
“No. They would have been ugly in any decade.” She closed the album and smiled at her daughter. “Have I thanked you for all you’re doing for me with the wedding?”