Page 67 of Penalty Shot

“Believe it,” he states, staring at my lips. “Let’s get you patched up.”

He delivers me into the building before securing a parking spot. I provide my information to the receptionist whose jaw drops when Randall walks in to stand by my side. At this point, the adrenaline is waning, replaced by a pulsing ache. Randall refuses to stay in the waiting room when I’m called to the back for x-rays. He waits outside the door and follows me into the doctor’s examination room.

“It’s not fractured, but the sprain is severe.” The physician’s diagnosis comes quickly. “A splint will keep you stable. I’ll prescribe something for the pain.”

“Thank you, doc.”

“Won’t she need to elevate and ice it? The swelling is getting worse,” Randall says.

“Absolutely. Rest and try to stay immobile. The splint will help, but icing, compression, and elevation will be essential for a couple of days.”

“How long do I need to wear the splint?”

“A week or two.”

I try to take the news with some grace. This was an accident, and things could have been worse. But I can’t help worrying about how inconvenient it is to have an injury when I’m expectedto be at my best. We open next week. I need to be available for anything that comes up, from casting issues to publicity events.

“Elise,” Randall says, standing in front of me and lifting my chin. “Don’t look so worried. The painkillers will kick in, and I can help with whatever you need.”

I simply nod while attempting to comprehend his words. He means till I can manage my life with one functional hand.

Before I leave, the doctor injects me with medicine for immediate pain relief.

“I think I’ll be fine without the hard stuff,” I tell Randall since I don’t have time to stop by the pharmacy. “I’ve got ibuprofen and Tylenol at home.”

He nods, but still pockets the prescription for me.

“I need to update everyone. Do you mind taking me back to the Plaza? I’ve been away from the theater long enough.”

“I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” he says.

I nod and settle into my seat. He had the theater’s address in his GPS and easily works his way through the city.

“Thank you for taking me to the doctor, Randall,” I say with my eyes closed.

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Elise.”

“It’s not your fault that I’m clumsy.”

“You’re not clumsy. I…I could have handled it better. Coming here. Seeing you. I should have asked if this was OK. I woke up and all I could think about was coming over, uninvited.”

“Randall, we’re past the polite invitation phase.”

“Are we?” he asks, looking unsure.

“Park here. You don’t have to come in. I’ll get my things and make arrangements to take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Can I come in with you?” He’s giving me the strangest expression. Not only concern, but something else I can’t figure out. I nod because where else is he going to hang out?

I take him through the theater’s main entrance, which is open this week. People will be rushing in and out for tech runs and final dress rehearsal. The foyer leading up to the grand lobby is filled with photographs and posters from Imagination Ohio’s decades-long presence in the local community. And in front of the will call window…

“Elise!” He calls out while scrambling for his phone. Randall stops in front of the poster ofBlood Will Have Bloodfeaturing a background of towering skyscrapers overlayed with a stylized rendering of a woman’s hands. Production details such as dates and venue are displayed under my name.

“Do we have time for a selfie?” he asks, already taking pictures at multiple angles like the damn thing is about to disappear.

“Go for it,” I say, amused.

“I’m definitely fan-girling, aren’t I?” he says with a wide smile. “C’mere, I want you in it.”