Then Zan’s shaking me awake. “Sorry to bug you,” he says. “He’s out cold. Probably for the night.”
I look over at Jax, then back at Zan. Can’t help but smile—despite the cloud of secrets, lies, and unanswered questions hanging over us. “Thanks for coming, Zan.”
For a few seconds he just stares at me in that way he does that makes me freakin’ nutballs. Especially right now when desire and obligation are occupying the same physical space. Cuz, man, what I wouldn’t do to just escape with him. “You wanna grab a bite to eat?” he says.
Clock: 2:27 a.m.
Brother: freaked the last time he woke up and the person who’d been here was gone. Mama will be here in four and a half hours, and Zan’s probably right about Jax being out for a while, but I’m not sure I wanna risk it.
My hesitation is…obvious.
“We’ll leave him a note with my cell number at the nurses’ station in case he wakes up.”
Mmmm…
He squats and takes my hands. Looks me in the eye. “You need a break, Rico. Hour, hour and a half.”
I sigh.
And nod.
* * *
—
We don’t make it to the Waffle House.
We don’t even make it out of the parking lot.
As soon as we’re both in the Jeep, Zan asks me how I’m doing, and I lose every iota of my shit.
Stuff just comes oozing out: how terrified I was when my brother almost died in my arms; how I feel like everything’s my fault because I didn’t investigate his symptoms; how tired I am from carrying the constant fear that this month, there won’t be enough money; how I went to the Streeters’ and had to leave all hope on their doorstep; how I feel like I’m falling into a black hole and there won’t be any getting out of it.
Zan listens. I can tell he’s got a million and one things going through his mind because he chews his lip and keeps looking down at his wallet. But he doesn’t say a word—even when I get to the Ethel part—and I’m thankful. Just holds my hand and rubs circles on my palm. Drapes an arm across my shoulders and draws me in to him. The more I cry, the closer we get until I’m curled in his khaki’d lap like a toddler, sobbing into the neck of his perfectly pressed polo.
“Zan?”
“Yeah?”
He’s rubbing my arm up and down. It feels really good. Calming. “Do you ever dress down?”
Silence.
I lift my head so I can see his face.
His jaw is clenched.
“Was that offensive?” I say.
He clears his throat. (Maybe it was offensive?) “The truth?”
Uhhh…“Yes?”
“I don’t want you to think I’m a slob.”
Hold on. “Are you saying you dress the way you do to impress me?”
“Potentially?”
I laugh. So hard I start crying again, but from laughter.
“Stop laughing at me.”
I laugh more. “Macklin, you could show up in a moth-eaten T-shirt and holey long johns and I’d be impressed just because you came.” I snuggle into him again.
“Oh.”
We settle into a calm silence. He was right about me needing a break, and I’m glad he’s here to share it with me.
“Hey, Rico?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you should probably get off my lap now.”
“Huh?” My head snaps up.
He’s bright red.
Oh.
I scramble off and over the gearstick back to the passenger seat. Not because I’m like scared of it, just because…Ugh, this is so embarrassing. “I should probably get back upstairs.” **Nervously tucks hair behind ears** “You should head home and get some rest. School tomorrow.”
“I’m going to get you some food,” he says. “Then I’ll go home.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Trust me. I do. Lita was in this hospital for a hip replacement last year. Eat the food here, and you might wind up connected to tubes and a drip bag.”
I laugh again. So thankful for him right now. Wish I could work up the courage to tell him….
“Guessing I won’t see you at school?” he says.
“Oh, I’ll be there. I’m off work tomorrow, so I’ll be able to go home and crash afterward.”
“Will Jax be alone here? Should I come by and see him after I take you home to rest?”
“Zan.” You’d think I’d be used to this from him by now, and yet.
“Sorry, sorry. May I take you to and from school tomorrow, and then come hang out with Jax so he won’t be alone? Please?”
This guy.
Who isn’t my boyfriend.
(Nope, not over that.) “I’d appreciate the rides, but our mom will be here until six. And then I’ll come back. So he won’t be alone.”
He nods. “Well, I meant what I said to Jax about visiting. Just let me know when’s a good time. You can even give your mom my number and tell her to call me if she needs a break.”
Fat chance, but super sweet of him to offer.
“Hey, Zan?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
We lock eyes, and I count to three.
“Thank you.”
School. Work. Hospital. Home.
Hospital. School. Home. Work.
Hospital home. School work.
And on.
And on.
And on.
After Zan offers about a dozen times, and Jax literally begs her, Mama decides to work Zan into the “Bedside Buddy” rotation. I even catch her smiling when he shows up a couple of times.
Zan pulls Ness, and sometimes Jess, into the mix by arranging rides for me so I won’t have to take the bus and can “maximize my time.”
Two days pass.
Three.
Four.
A week.
I come, Mama goes. Mama comes, Zan goes. Zan comes, I go (after some maybe overextended embracing).