After the Fall

everything; the kind of place with crayons for the kids and twelve local brews on tap for Mom and Dad.
    The hostess took one look at my leg and said she’d find us a booth. I was too tired to feel like an imposition or an invalid, so I just smiled and thanked her.
    Ryan helped me put my foot up, and the hostess left us with a couple of menus. While we read over the options, he asked, “So how was it, being back at work?”
    “Not bad, but definitely tiring.”
    He grimaced. “I can imagine.”
    “The worst part, though?” I rolled my eyes. “The questions.”
    “The questions?”
    I nodded. “Every single person asked what happened. Which, okay, I get it, but after the thirtieth time?”
    “Oh God, I think I would have lost my mind.”
    “I almost did. Especially since everyone turns into a medical and legal expert.” I shook my head. “As if getting around like this isn’t hard enough without the constant commentary from self-proclaimed experts.”
    Ryan flinched. “God, I am so sorry about all this.”
    I straightened. “What? No. No, it’s not . . .” Okay, so technically he had played a pretty significant part in all of this. But it occurred to me then that all day long, when I’d been ready to go on a hobbling rampage and beat a few people with my crutch, my frustration had never been directed at him. In fact, hadn’t it been his name on the caller ID that had grounded me and brought back some of my sanity?
    “Listen,” I said. “I told you last night, and I still mean it: this wasn’t your fault. What happened, it was an accident. And people totally mean well, I . . .” I sighed. “Let’s put it this way: if I have to explain what happened to one more person . . .”
    “Why explain it?” Ryan grinned mischievously. “Make something up.”
    “Make some— Really?”
    “Why not?” The grin turned a bit more devilish. “Bar brawl? Bungee jumping mishap?”
    I laughed. “A bungee jumping mishap. That’s a good one.”
    “See?” Ryan winked. “Just because they ask doesn’t mean you have to tell them the truth.”
    “I hadn’t thought of that. You like fucking with people, don’t you?”
    Chuckling, he half shrugged. “A little harmless fun like that never hurt anybody.”
    “True, I suppose it hasn’t.”
    A moment later, a flustered brunette appeared beside us with a notepad in hand. “Sorry for the wait, guys.”
    “It’s okay,” Ryan said with a smile that probably weakened her knees. God knew it had that effect on me. “We’re not in any hurry.”
    “Okay, well, what can I get you to start off? Something to drink or—” She glanced down, and her eyes widened. “Oh, honey! What happened to your leg?”
    I suppressed a groan. Not again.
    “Oh, that was my fault,” Ryan said. “Spent six months trying to talk him into going bungee jumping, he finally goes, and . . .” He gestured at my foot on the bench beside him.
    The waitress blinked. “Bungee jumping?”
    I clicked my tongue and nodded. “Trust this guy to sign us up with a discount, fly-by-night place.”
    “They seemed legit.”
    “Their logo was spray-painted on their van!”
    The waitress laughed. “And you still did it?”
    I shrugged. “I’d already paid my deposit. Figured, eh, what could go wrong?” I threw Ryan a playful glare.
    He put up his hands. “I never claimed to be an expert on these things!”
    The waitress laughed again, shaking her head. “I don’t even want to know. So can I get you boys something to drink?”
    Ryan glanced at the back of his menu. “Will I get chased out of town for ordering a nonlocal beer?”
    “I’ll put it in a glass so no one notices,” she said in a stage whisper.
    “Awesome. I’ll take a Bud Light.”
    She wrote it down and asked me, “For you?”
    “I’ll have the same.”
    “Thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking,” Ryan said.
    “I haven’t taken a painkiller all day. I’ll be fine.”
    “Well,” the waitress said, “I will have to see your ID.”
    I sighed with mock indignation as I pulled out my wallet. “Only me? Not him?”
    Ryan smirked as he emphatically stroked his goatee. “Can’t help it if I look my age.”
    “Mm-hmm.” I handed my driver’s license to the waitress.
    Once she was satisfied I was in fact over twenty-one, she handed it back. Then she turned to Ryan and held out her hand. “Just to be on the safe side.”
    Ryan pulled out his wallet and handed over his license.
    “Oh.” Her eyebrows