It’s been just over a week since the night I washed her hair.I glance over at her. “How does it feel?”She cups her jaw, and softly replies, “Weird.”The wires keeping her jaw stable while it healed were removed today. In two days she has a follow-up appointment with an orthopedist in town to X-ray her ankle and her leg.Now, we’re on our way to her physical therapy appointment.“It’s strange opening my mouth to talk,” she murmurs.My eyes were drawn briefly from the road to her face when she spoke. If she opened her mouth when she spoke, I can’t tell.I sat in the waiting room so unless she tells me what the specialist said, I wouldn’t know if that’s normal or not so I have to ask and hope she answers. “Did your doctor say that would happen?”She nods and then pulls a plastic case from the bag that sits on her lap. “I still can’t eat anything too chewy for a few days and he gave me this”—she pulls out something that looks like a mouth guard, like the kind used in sports—“thing to strengthen my jaw.
What do You think about Why Lie? (Love Riddles #2)?
