“Good. Do you have time for a chat?”
I look at my phone. “No, I’ve got pickup in five minutes; don’t you?”
His face falls a bit. “No, Ali does pickup now.”
“Oh” is all I can think of to say. I’d love to know more, but I hate not being there when Max comes out. I was five minutes late to Scouts once and he was convinced I was never coming back for him.
“Gotta run. See you soon.” I dash out to the minivan and as I’m getting in I turn to see Don still watching me from the door. He looks really sad. I make a mental note to reach out to him later.
*
Don’t ever tell Ron this, but I love a night to myself. After dropping a very confused but excited Max off at the store, I stop to pick up some groceries, then drive home. I know exactly how I want to spend my evening. An uninterrupted bath is unspeakable luxury when you are a mom. The knowledge that no one is going to bother me is intoxicating. I fill the deep claw-foot tub in our master bath with the hottest water I can stand and add an entire bag of Dr. Teal’s Epsom salts. It’s not exactly “Calgon, take me away,” but they do have a nice lavender scent. I light a few candles, get myself a generous glass of Oregon pinot noir, and connect my iPhone to the Bluetooth speaker. I put my phone beside the bed and think about texting Don to see if he’s okay, but decide to do it later. I don’t want anything distracting me from my bliss.
As you know, my heart belongs to rock and roll, but when I’m trying to relax I like to switch it up with a little smooth jazz on Pandora. Anita Baker starts to sing.
So here I sit, and you couldn’t find a happier person on the planet at this moment.
When I first hit the water, it feels like a thousand tiny needles piercing my body, but once I submerge, the pain dissolves with the salt.
I close my eyes and start to visualize the mud course. I take myself through each phase—the run, the wall, the pegs, the steep ramp, the freezing water, the ring of fire, and finally the crawl through the mud to the finish line. Two months to go, but I wish it were tomorrow. I’m so ready. I’m so ready.…
My eyes snap open. The bath water is cold and I’m shivering. I must have dozed off. I stand up quickly and throw one leg over the tub while I reach for a towel. I must lean too far because the next thing I know, my foot on the floor is slipping forward and my other leg isn’t out of the bath yet. I’m forced into a split that crashes my vagina into the side of the tub. I feel a snap in my groin, followed by eye-watering pain.
“Shit, fuck, ow, crap, goddammit!” I roll onto my side and back and force my other leg out of the tub.
“Son of a bitch, mother fuck.” I start to cry. I can’t believe how much my groin hurts. I have no idea how I’m going to get up. I’m shivering, so I pull the towel over me for warmth and put my head down on the fluffy white bath mat. When I’ve calmed down I start crawling to the bathroom door. I need to get to a phone and call someone. The bottom half of my body is useless, so I rely on my arms and pull myself along the floor.
Is it shallow that even in my excruciating pain, I can’t help but notice how strong my upper body is? Go me! Argghhhh! My groin is throbbing.
I slither to the door of the bathroom, grab the knob, and yank it open enough to crawl through. God, I’m cold! Bone cold, as my mom would say. I’ve never fallen asleep in the bathtub, and now I know why it’s not recommended.
I can only imagine the spectacle that Ron is treated to when he walks in a minute later as I’m making my way to my cell phone by the bed, naked, towel barely around me, crying and swearing at the same time.
“Jesus, Jen!” He runs to my side and is down on the carpet with me in a nanosecond.
“I f-f-fell in the t-t-tub,” I manage to sob out before I collapse into his body.
“Where’s Mommy?” I hear Max yelling from downstairs.
“Oh, my God. He can’t see this. He’ll have nightmares for years.”
“Hang on, buddy. She’s in the bathroom,” Ron calls to him. “Get your PJs on and brush your teeth.” He looks at me. “What hurts? Did you break anything? Do you need an ambulance?”
“I don’t think so. It’s just my groin.” I’m shivering uncontrollably.
Ron appraises the situation and decides to scoop me up and onto the bed. He grabs a sweatshirt out of my drawers and helps me put it on. I welcome the feel of my pillows as I lean back and Ron pulls the duvet over me. My vagina is still throbbing, but my shivers are starting to die down.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses my head and runs out of the room. I can hear him talking to Max in a low voice and then going downstairs. When he returns, he has one of the ice packs I keep at the ready in the freezer, a glass of water, and two ibuprofen.
“Can I take a look?”
I nod and help him pull the duvet aside. He hisses when he sees my upper legs. I look down: there is already the beginning of a bruise right where my leg meets my hip. It’s hard to tell if my vulva is also bruised, because I’ve gone native down there, but it feels like it is.
“Shit,” I say, and my eyes fill with tears again. I shove the pills in my mouth and take a gulp of water. After I swallow, a sob escapes my throat.
“Shhh. It’s okay. Let’s get the ice on it.” Ron places the pack gently at the top of my leg. I wince at first, but soon the cold pack brings relief to the ache.
“Is Max okay?” I sniffle. “How was roller derby?”
“Max is watching TV and roller derby was fine. Tell me what happened here.” Ron’s velvet voice is rich with concern.
“I was taking a bath and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was cold, so I got out too fast and I slipped with one leg out and landed on my bun,” I say, using the word for vagina that came into our house via the wisdom of Graydon Cobb. (Max was thrilled to come home one day and tell me that Graydon says boys have hot dogs and girls have buns.) “I felt my groin snap and the pain was mind-blowing.”
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I think you should go for an X-ray tomorrow.”
I nod, but suddenly realize I’m too tired to talk anymore. My eyes close without any effort on my part.
“Do you have Garth tomorrow? I should call and cancel.”
I hear Ron’s words, but they take a few seconds to sink in. Garth, training, mudder. Mudder!
“Oh my God,” I groan.
“What?”
“All my training.” I take a deep breath and start crying yet again.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Ron rubs my head. “It’s okay.”
“Why are you crying?” says a little voice from the door.
I quickly cover up the ice pack and look around Ron at Max. He’s wearing his “Where’s Waldo?” PJs, hat, and glasses.
“Come here, sweetie.” I hold out my arms and he walks into them while still standing beside the bed.
“Why are you crying? Did you miss us?”
Only a child would see it like that.
“I did miss you, but I also got a little boo-boo on my thigh and it hurts a bit.”
“Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”
“That’s okay, Daddy already did. How was roller derby?”