Allison Cramer hobbled into the emergency room, guarding her tender ankle. After a hop, a lean, and a trudge, she finally made it in to the admissions counter.

“Hi, Allison,” the admitting nurse greeted. “What happened this time?”

Allie sighed. “It wasn’t my fault! There’s a section of sidewalk in front of my shop that’s broken. I keep telling the landlord he needs to repair the walkway. What if it was a customer? Do you need my insurance information?” Allie cringed, embarrassed to be at the hospital yet again.

“I’ve got you in the system.” The nurse pulled up Allie’s file. “Wow, three weeks this time. It must be a record.”

“I can’t afford to keep getting hurt,” Allie pouted.

“Thankfully, you have good insurance.” The nurse click-clacked on her keyboard and printed out a form to be signed.

“Thankfully, they’ll still insure me.” She shook her head and gave a brief description of her injury, signed the form, and then went to sit in the waiting area. She’d gotten to know a few of the staff at Mercy General while becoming quite the regular.

A familiar nurse came out with a wheelchair. “Free wheelchair rides for the injured,” she mused to the blonde girl.

“Hi Beth,” Allie said with a frustrated smile. “How are the kids?”

“Good, what happened this time?” The two chatted as she was rolled back to a small room to be seen by a doctor. After a quick update, the nurse asked Allie about her previous accident.

“How’s the eye?”

“Good, good. Thanks for asking,” she answered with a grimace. The last time she was there it was due to an eye injury. Cleaning supplies had splashed up into her eye. Her glasses stopped most of it, but not all of it. At least she didn’t have to wear the eye patch anymore. That was awkward.

“New doc,” Beth whispered before heading out of the room. “Good luck.”

Good luck? What did that mean?

The doctor barely looked up when he first walked in. He was tall and handsome, a chiseled jaw- line, square shoulders, and the hint of a nice body as his biceps tried to escape from the shirt he was wearing. His nose was buried in the file, reading the information that had been recorded earlier. The antiquated system still had them using paper charts and then entering information on computers later. At one of the teaching hospitals he started at, at least they used computers and tablets to keep things moving along faster. Moving to Mercy General felt like taking a step back in time.

“Left ankle, female, late-twenties…” he read aloud.

“Mid-twenties,” she corrected too quickly. “Mid-twenties,” she said calmer the second time.

The doctor looked up from his chart and repeated himself with a slight exaggerated tone, “Mid- twenties.” He came eye to eye with a bubbly, curvy blonde. He watched as she blew a strand of hair off of her face. Her round cherub cheeks gave her a softness.

Allie smiled, now happier with that answer. She reached up and pushed her glasses over the bridge of her nose. They had a tendency to slip down. It was one of those little things she kept putting off, stopping by the eye place to get them fixed.