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that. But ever since I taught my niece a very bad swear word that rhymes with duck, I’ve been watching my language. So I’m a donkey, not that other word.”
    The chuckle was louder. “Oh. So it was you that taught Isabelle how to swear like a sailor?”
    “No,” I denied. “I only take responsibility for that one particular word that she drops when she kicks her toe accidently. All the other stuff came from her mother. Now you have me perplexed. Who is this? How do you know Izzy?”
    “This is Harley,” he said.
    “Who?” I really didn’t know.
    “Harley? Otherwise known to your family as Hippy-Hotpants?”
    “Oh, God” was my oh-so-elegant reply. I glanced at the window and calculated my chance of being able to open it and jump.
    He chuckled in my ear for a third time. “Is that all you have to say to me? After all I was put through on your behalf? All I wanted was to ask you on a date, and instead you gave me a heart attack, then foisted your family on me.” My vocal chords strangled, and I was unable to speak. The silence became uncomfortable. “Shawn? Shawn, are you still there? Are you all right?”
    “No. I’m half left,” I stupidly blurted. I smacked my own forehead. There was a reason I didn’t have any dates, and I really had to stop blaming my mother.
    “Yes,” that whisky voice told me through the phone. “We’ve had this conversation. But perhaps you were too out of it to remember?”
    I couldn’t reply. I was desperately going over every moment of my snakebite and the following hours to remember how pathetic I’d been. It wasn’t looking good.
    “Shawn? Are you there?”
    “Yes,” I croaked. “I’m just trying to work out if a fall from my third-story window will kill me quickly like I want, or if it’s just going to prolong the agony of my terrible life?”
    “I guess it would depend on what you land on. I vote for you not trying to find out. At least until we’ve had a first date. I’d really like one of them, and you with concussion and two broken legs is not going to be a good time.”
    My jaw dropped. “What? You really mean it? A date? Like going out together? Alone. Just you and me?”
    “Yes.”
    “But why?” This time the slap from my own hand against my face was not enough. “Oh, my God,” I cried. “Forget I said that. I’m going now to find a staircase in this hospital that leads upward. Four floors ought to do it.”
    This time his chuckle started as a choke. It was a sound I’d heard from many throats in my vicinity. “Date first. And if you look cute enough when I pick you up, I promise to tell you why I want you to go on a first date with me.”
    “Oh. You’re not in trouble with the police, are you?” I asked with a sinking heart.
    “Ahh… no. Is it a requirement?” he questioned with a puzzled tone.
    “Of course not. It’s just the last guy I dated was arrested in front of me. His name was Rory. It was rather embarrassing. You haven’t been arrested, have you?”
    “Actually I’ve been arrested twice,” Harley confessed. “Once four years ago, once two years before that.”
    My heart sank. “Oh. Do you like cannibalism as well? Rory told me it was human instinct.” I thought it was completely disgusting, but if Hippy-Hotpants wanted to eat raw human organs, I might at least try to be understanding about it. Right before I called the police, of course.
    Harley snorted on the other end of the phone. “Tell me you’re joking. Because if not, it’s going to be an extremely interesting story I’m dying to hear. But no, my arrests were for protesting logging of the old-growth forests down south.”
    “Oh, good.”
    “So will you come out with me?” he asked.
    “You bet.” Okay—maybe that was a little overenthusiastic, but Harley seemed to like it.
    “Great. So when do you get out of hospital, and when can Lisa have your mum for a bit?”
    We agreed on the following Friday, since I’d been told I would still be on crutches for