Free Different Paths by Judy Clemens

to laugh. “Sorry. Didn’t make it a point to get to know her.”
    “Well, it’s your own fault.”
    Lucy put her hand out toward Bryan. “Lucy Spruce. Friend of Carla’s.”
    Spruce. It still took me a moment to think who she was talking about, without the old “Lapp” after her name.
    Bryan cleared his throat, looking briefly at Lucy’s face before ending up gazing somewhere past her shoulder. “Bryan Walker. Um. Friend of Carla’s.” He shook Lucy’s hand. “I think…uh…I’ll go get some coffee. Or lunch. Or…something.” He swiveled his eyes toward Carla, his face pleading.
    “You do that, sweetie. These ladies will keep me company for a bit.”
    He tried to grab Carla’s hand again, but she avoided the clutch and patted his arm. “Go ahead.”
    He scurried toward the door, not looking back.
    I raised my eyebrows. “What’s up with him?”
    “You are.”
    “What?”
    “You make him nervous. He thinks you don’t like him.”
    “Oh. Well…”
    “I told him that was ridiculous. What’s not to like?” She pierced me with a steady gaze.
    Lucy giggled. “I think he’s adorable.”
    I looked up at her so quickly I got a crick in my neck. “You do?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “And why shouldn’t she?” Carla said. “He is adorable.”
    My mouth opened, but I shut it before any sound came out. I leaned my head down and rubbed the back of my neck.
    Carla and Lucy rehashed how the two new lovers had met, from the dance, to what Carla was wearing, to exactly how long it took him to kiss her (three dates). Carla explained what all she knew about him (not much beyond his job and what kind of music he liked) and how sweet he was with her dog, Concord. I was about to scream when Lucy finally said, “So, how are you today? How’s your head?”
    Carla wrinkled her nose. “Yesterday they said they’d let me eat.”
    “And?”
    “Jello and chicken broth.”
    I laughed, the pain in my neck forgotten.
    Lucy gave me a stern look. “Better than nothing, right?”
    I snorted. “Not for this woman. But look up, Carla, by tomorrow you’ll be able to have pureed carrots.”
    She groaned. “At least they’re considering letting me go home today.”
    I blinked. “Already?”
    “They say my vessel tear isn’t expanding. The blood’s being reabsorbed into my body, and apparently that’s a good thing.”
    “It is.” Lucy’s voice was flat. From the look on her face, she’d had personal experience with Carla’s type of situation. Probably when Lucy’s first husband, Brad, took the fall down the stairs that first paralyzed, and finally killed him.
    Carla looked down at herself. “I just want to take a shower—I feel so disgusting. And wear my own clothes. And raid my own refrigerator…” Her voice took on a dreamy quality.
    Lucy smiled. “When will you know?”
    “When the doc makes his afternoon rounds. He has to okay it.”
    “You won’t be able to go back to work right away, will you?” I thought of Wendy, and of the other guys in Carla’s practice whom I liked, but not as well as Carla.
    “Nope. Lots of restrictions. No heavy lifting, no driving, no aerobic activities.”
    “You need me to come stay with you tonight?”
    Carla looked at me, and then at my foot. “Lotta help you’d be. But thanks, anyway. Bryan said he’ll stay. He’ll bring Concord back over and take care of both of us.”
    I didn’t like that. “Carla—”
    “I don’t know,” Lucy said. “I thought the doctor said no aerobic activities.”
    Carla looked confused for a moment, then laughed when she saw the corners of Lucy’s mouth twitching upward. “Don’t worry. Bryan will be sleeping on the couch. Besides, he’s a gentleman .”
    I snorted again.
    “You have a problem?” Carla scowled at me.
    “No. No problem.” Unless you count her brand new boyfriend that I didn’t trust farther than I could throw a lasso.
    Lucy kicked my wheelchair, then said, “Any word from the detective today?”
    Carla