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Annabelle's Joy

By Betty Thomason Owens

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February 12, 1957
Trenton, Tennessee

Annabelle braced herself in the back seat as Lillian barreled down the highway, headed for Trenton. When Lillian topped a hill and took the curve a bit too fast, Annabelle had to speak up. “Slow down, I’m not going to bleed to death.” The woman had to be doing at least forty-five.
Lillian didn’t let up on the gas pedal. Both hands gripped the wheel as she approached town. “Miss Lucy said to hurry. So that’s what I’m doing.”
Annabelle sucked in a breath as they whizzed past the 31-miles-per-hour speed limit sign, a sight seen only in Trenton, Tennessee.
Another car approached a main intersection. Lillian never touched the brakes, just the horn, several times.
“I thank you kindly, but I hope to get there in one piece.” Annabelle had never ridden anywhere with Lillian at the wheel. The woman seldom drove.
When Lillian pulled into a parking spot on the street in front of the doctor’s house, she hit the curb a bit too hard.
Annabelle gasped as pain shot through her injured leg. She bit her lip and tried not to whine.
Lillian opened the door and got out. “Sorry about that, Annabelle. Now, you sit tight while I go find someone to help us.”
Sit tight. Where could she go? She leaned back and tried to relax as waves of pain rolled over her. Why had she tried to move that old crate on her own? The day had started out so well. Now she’d be laid up for who knew how long.
Lillian’s voice brought Annabelle’s attention to the front of the once-elegant residence that now housed the doctor’s office. Lillian held the door open for another woman dressed in a nurses’ uniform and cap. The nurse pushed a wheelchair out and down a short ramp to the walk. Annabelle didn’t recall the nurse’s name, though she had talked to her on the phone once or twice. The nurse was followed closely by a young man with his sleeves rolled up past the elbows.
Lillian opened the door nearest Annabelle’s feet, allowing the nurse to address Annabelle. “Careful now, hon. I’m going to get in so I can lift that injured leg for you.”
The young man opened the other door, holding out his hand to keep Annabelle from falling out. He then slid his arms under hers and lifted her into the wheelchair. She nearly bit through her lower lip, holding back the cry of anguish as tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks.
When the nurse leaned forward to unlock the wheels of the chair, Annabelle got a close-up look at her dark, brown hair tucked beneath her cap. Bobby pins held the cap in place. She smelled of rubbing alcohol, soap and antiseptic.
Once they had her in the chair, Annabelle tried to focus on the deep green foliage of a holly tree in the front yard as the pain in her leg almost overwhelmed her. Bumping along in the ancient wheelchair made it worse.
Doc met them at the door. “Heard you had a scuffle with a wooden crate, Miss Annabelle. Come on in and we’ll take a look.”
Lillian stayed with her as the young man and the nurse lifted Annabelle onto an examining table. She patted Annabelle’s hand. “I’ll be right here.”
The young man pushed the wheelchair out and closed the door behind him.
“How are those children doing?” Doc asked. “Over in Hawaii, is it?”
Annabelle grimaced in pain as he removed her ruined apron. “Maui.”
“I always wanted to go to the Islands. Sounds like paradise.”
Lillian kept her hand planted on Annabelle’s shoulder. “We each got a postcard yesterday.”
Doc frowned over the wound. “Hmm, looks pretty deep, Miss Annabelle, and there’s some splinters in here. You’re going to need stitches once I get it cleaned out.” He glanced at Lillian. “You can go if you need to.”
“Not going anywhere.”
Annabelle relaxed. “Thank you, Lillian.”
“I ought to be thanking you, I reckon. I haven’t driven a car in a couple of years. I got to where I was almost afraid to get behind the wheel. Now, I know I can do it.” She angled a glance at Annabelle. “Though you might not agree.”
“You did fine. A little too fast for my liking, but fine.”
Lillian giggled. “I was trying to keep your mind focused on something other than your pain.”
“You sure enough did that—ouch!”
Doc straightened. “Sorry, Miss Annabelle. That was the local anesthetic going in. In a minute, you won’t feel anything.” He grinned as he handed the syringe to the nurse.
Emily. The nurse’s name popped into Annabelle’s mind as the woman arranged instruments on a tray. She looked up, met Annabelle’s gaze, and smiled. “Are you all right, hon?”
“I reckon I will be.”
Lillian patted her shoulder. “Wonder how little Joseph is taking to the sea?”
Little Joseph. Annabelle smiled at the memory of her sweet grandson’s chubby face. A happy baby, he took delight in the smallest of things. “I reckon he’s having the time of his life.”
After Ray and her sons drowned, her daughter-in-law Connie had stayed by her, even though it meant moving three thousand miles away from their home in San Diego, California. She’d become a daughter to Annabelle. She’d married Lillian’s younger son Alton. Now, Annabelle had a family again. A family, a home, and so many wonderful friends. God had been good to her.
“Nineteen stitches.”
Annabelle looked at Lillian. What was she talking about?
“Doc said it took nineteen stitches.”
She seemed right impressed, but Annabelle’s stomach lurched. What kind of scar was that gonna leave?
“Closed it up nice and neat to keep it from scarring so badly.” The doctor washed his hands at a nearby sink. “Looks like you lost a lot of blood, Miss Annabelle. Some bleeding’s good. It cleanses the wound naturally. But you lost a bit too much. You’re going to have to take it easy a few days. Keep that leg elevated.” He shifted his attention to Lillian. “Does she have someone to be with her?”
Lillian gave a nod. “She’ll stay at Sutter’s until she can get around on her own.”
Annabelle shook her head. “I can’t leave my house unattended. Who’ll take care of the chickens?”
“Miss Lucy said she’d take care of everything. You know she will.”
“She’s got her own to look after.”
Lillian bent to make eye contact. “She’ll send one of her young-uns over. In the meantime, you’re staying at Sutter’s where I can take care of you myself.”
Annabelle clamped her mouth shut on all the objections forming in her mind. Sure, there was plenty of room at Sutter’s, but the beds were all upstairs. How would she get up there? Her leg throbbed at the thought of climbing all those steps.
“You’ll need to stop by the pharmacy on the way out of town,” Doctor said, as he and Emily helped Annabelle into the wheelchair. “I’ll call in a prescription. Don’t want you to get an infection.”
Land sakes. Annabelle blew out a breath. Now Tom would have to know. She’d never hear the end of it.

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