Sunset Beach(35)

“Both. Plus the usual,” she said.

“That sucks. Can I ask how you injured yourself?”

“Kiteboarding,” she said. “Midair collision with a guy I didn’t even see coming.”

He bent over, then looked up. “May I?”

His finger traced the thick white scar. It extended six inches above and six inches below her knee, zigzagging around the kneecap. “Wow. Who was your surgeon?”

“Just some guy they referred me to at the emergency room. Ezra Cline? He’s in Delray Beach.”

Corey placed a hand on either side of her knee. “Was he in his eighties or something?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact he was. Why?”

“’Cause this is some old-school technique here. It’s pretty swollen right now. Does that happen a lot?”

“After I walk, yeah. It’s so stupid. I only went down to the breakwater and back, but it’s killing me right now.”

“We should ice it. Do you have an ice pack or a dish towel or something I can use?”

“Hanging on the hook by the sink,” she said. “The fridge doesn’t have an ice maker, but there’s a plastic bin of cubes in the freezer.”

He disappeared into the kitchen, emerging with a makeshift ice pack, which he pressed to her knee.

“Extend your leg for me, please,” he said, kneeling on the deck and placing his hands on either side of the joint.

“Bend it.

“Now flex your foot.

“Do you ever feel the joint popping, or hear clicking when you walk?”

“Sometimes.”

He sighed and took his seat again. “What kind of post-op instructions did the surgeon give you? Did you do physical therapy?”

“He just said I should take it easy and gave me the name of a physical therapist I should call. Which I didn’t do.”

“Why not?”

“No insurance,” she said, shrugging. “I’m still paying for the surgery, which my father assures me the doctor screwed up, based on the look of the incision.”

“How’s your mobility?” he asked. “I did notice, when you were walking up, that you seemed to be favoring your good leg. Didn’t they give you a brace or anything?”

“My mobility isn’t great. It really hurts going down stairs. And yeah, he gave me a brace, but it’s too hot and itchy to wear this time of year. Anyway, I couldn’t tell that it was doing me much good. So I mostly don’t wear it.”

He shook his head. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-six. How about you?”

“I’m thirty-eight. But let’s talk about you. I’m guessing you must have been a pretty good athlete before your accident. Have you started back with any kind of physical activity?”

“I walk on the beach some,” she said, feeling instantly defensive. “But it’s hard, you know. I work in an office all day, come home, walk on the beach a little, and by then I’m kind of wiped out.”

“I get that,” he said, smiling. “That ACL of yours is still pretty loose. You need to start working on it, or it’s only gonna get worse. You mind if I give you some advice?”

“As long as it’s free,” Drue said.

“First of all, walking on sand, which isn’t the most stable surface, isn’t doing you any favors. Now, if you had a bike, that’s way better exercise for your knee.”

“I don’t have a bike, but I guess I could buy a used one, once I catch up a little on my bills,” she said.

“Here’s another idea—get yourself to a pool. You can do exercises, walking, pedaling, like that, without putting any weight on the knee. The passive resistance of the water is great for injuries like yours.”

“Again, I don’t have a pool,” she said. “And a gym membership definitely isn’t in the cards for me anytime soon.”

“No friends with a pool at their complex?”

“I’ve only just moved here recently,” Drue said. “My father and his, uh, child bride have a pool, but I don’t see me inviting myself over there for water aerobics.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “We’ve got a pool in my condo complex. This time of year especially, it’s mostly deserted, because all the snowbirds are back up north. If you want, I can get you a key card, and you can use our pool. We can set a time, and I’ll meet you out there and show you some simple exercises you can do.”

“Really?” Drue was taken aback. “That’s so nice of you. I mean, we just met.”

“It’s no big deal,” Corey said. “I’m sorry Leonard moved. I mean, he was one interesting old guy, but I’m glad to meet his replacement. You’re not into, uh, nude sunbathing, are you?”

She felt herself blushing. “No. Why?”

“That’s actually how I first met him. I was running down the beach, and I looked up here, and there was this old man, stretched out, stark naked on a towel. I ran up because I thought maybe he’d passed out or had a heart attack or something. Turns out he was just really into nudity. He’d move his chair down onto the beach in the afternoons, after the deck was in the shade. People were all the time calling the cops on him. He eventually got tired of the hassle, so he made himself a loincloth out of some washcloths. I asked him once why he didn’t just get a Speedo or something, and he told me…” Corey started to laugh. His chest rose and fell, and he tried to speak but couldn’t, he was laughing so hard.