This story has been set to a rating of PG-13. Age verification is required to proceed.
Angelica Porter-Kennard exhaled softly. In her sixteen years and eight months of life, she’d been fortunate to spend very little time in hospitals. Mama T sometimes teased Mama B about the time she caused a panic by misreading an ear thermometer but Angie herself had no memory of it. In New York, there were a few visits to her mothers’ friends or colleagues who’d had babies or minor procedures. But by far the person Angie most associated with the environment she found herself in now was Kit.
‘Want a soda?’ Bette asked, although she was in no position to fulfil the offer.
Angie shook her head. They’d arrived in the ER about half an hour ago in high spirits. The accident was, after all, pretty funny – Mama B giving Mama T a ride back to the house on the handlebars of a mountain bike and then getting distracted when she noticed Angie filming them from the raised driveway, trying to wave flamboyantly as they swooped to a stop and then overbalancing the whole bike. Tina did a pretty impressive leap clear but Bette went down hard on her right side, her foot turning under.
Angie had burst out laughing, but then it became clear that Bette couldn’t quite get up.
‘Bee!’ Angie had shouted, running down to them.
‘Angie, it’s okay,’ Mama T had called. ‘I think she’s just winded, honey.’
Mama B was leaning back on her arms, her right leg straight out, left leg still under the bike, which Mama T was lifting free. Kurt appeared and said he’d get an ice pack while Angie watched Tee speaking carefully and deliberately to Bee, obviously checking she was functioning okay.
‘Where’s Helena?’ Angie asked.
‘Concetta’s,’ Mama B replied.
‘Tell me everything that hurts,’ Mama T asked her.
‘Oh, just my pride, ego, self-respect . . .’
Angie had been staring at it already. It was double the size of the left one, and getting bigger. Mama T and Kurt did some first aid but they agreed she’d have to see a doctor. Kurt had left a group of visitors in the tasting room, and Bee didn’t think Tee should drive in case she was concussed, so Angie was given the keys to the Lexus. She thought she did a pretty good job of not looking too happy about it . . .