“Huh?” My father seemed perplexed by this onslaught of information. “You sure do seem to know a lot about it. Are you studyin’ to be a doc or somethin’?”
“No, sir. My father is one of the physicians at The Academy, so I’ve picked up tidbits here and there over the years. Plus, all cadets are required to take a six-month course in medical training.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Huh,” my father said the same time I thought it. I filed that little snippet about his father away for now. I would take it out later to inspect further. But right now, I was tired, I really was.
“Why don’t you get Kate home and into bed.” It was said as a command. “No noise, no TV, no anything but rest.” Pete looked severely down at me.
I smiled, nodding my head up and down. Usually I hated being bossed around. And feeling helpless. Right now . . . not so much. Huh. Must be the “happy shot.” I closed my eyes and must’ve drifted off because the next thing I knew, I was home, and two vigilant little brothers were helping me walk in, one on each side. I looked down, horrified, to see I was still in my hospital gown.
The only thing keeping it from gaping open was Pete’s navy IEA jacket, zipped up over it.
33
SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY
A rap-tap-tap roused me later. I wasn’t sure how much later because it was dark outside. A presence—too polite to be my father—began asserting itself behind the door again. Didn’t feel polite though, reverberating from inside my noggin. Ow. Pain. Coming on stronger every second. I heard voices.
“Pete, you might wanna just let ‘er sleep it off.” This said as though I were merely hungover. “She’ll be alright—my Katie’s one tough cookie.”
“Yes, well, sleeping it off is something she can’t do uninterrupted tonight. Did you read the patient information sheet? . . . I highlighted it in yellow.”
“Uh, well . . . not quite there yet, Pete. Just got the boys off to bed and was sittin’ down a spell to watch the game. Why don’tja come on in an’ join me?”
“I better check on Kate. She’ll be wanting these pain pills soon . . . maybe something to eat first. I brought her some—”
“Well now. That sure is awfully kind of you. Above and beyond the call of duty really.” Daddy sounded almost as disapproving as Pete. “I’ll be sure to let yer Academy know what a swell job yer doin’ with my daughter, as well as my future cadet.” My Daddy may be uneducated, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Thank you, sir . . . though unnecessary. It’s a cadet’s duty to help out the host family in any way possible for the duration of our stay. I’ll just drop off her prescriptions and food and then be on my way,” Pete said smoothly.
Dang it.
Another rap-tap-tap.
“Come in,” I croaked, sitting up in bed and immediately wincing from the spotlight Daddy just turned on. Pete informed my father that bright lights were a no-no and turned it back off, then came in and snapped on my tulip lamp instead. A disgruntled Daddy followed, coming up from behind to loom over us like a giant buzz kill.
“Hey.” Pete stared at my face with a soft, inscrutable look until I couldn’t take it—my lashes fanned my cheeks.
“Hey.” I pulled the slippery hospital gown back over my shoulder.
“How you feeling?”
I shrugged a little, tried a smile. “Head hurts.”
Pete smiled back. “I’m not surprised. I felt the size of that goose egg.”
“Goose egg?” I said incredulously. “Feels more like an ostrich egg to me!”
Pete chuckled lightly. We were both hyper aware we were being scrutinized by my father. “You must be hungry.” He looked at me for confirmation.
“A little, I guess. It’s hard to concentrate on anything but my throbbin’ head.”
“Well, you can’t take the pain meds on an empty stomach without risking another vomiting episode.”
“Oh man . . . don’t remind me.” My face heated instantly. “Sorry ‘bout that again, by the way.”
“Don’t apologize for being sick,” Pete reprimanded lightly.
I merely nodded, feeling extremely awkward with Daddy hovering. Pete began unpacking what appeared to be a child’s paper bag lunch.
My father coughed into his hand. “Is there anything I can do tuh help?”
“A spoon would be great,” Pete said, unpeeling the foil from a yogurt cup.
“One spoon comin’ up!” Daddy announced before tromping out the door. Pete and I shared a couple of long looks and secret smiles before he came back in, brandishing the proper utensil proudly. “Here ya go, Katie-girl!”
I winced a little at his volume. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Yer welcome!” Daddy beamed at me and kind of stood around shifting his feet and snapping his fingers.
“You can go on back and watch the game, Daddy,” I suggested. “I’m just gonna eat a little sandwhich and take my pills, then go on to sleep.”
“That’s a good idea,” Pete seconded. “She’s not supposed to have a whole lot of stimulation tonight. I’m just going to go over some last minute instructions. . . . I’ll be back to check on her in the morning and help out with chores, if that’s okay with you, sir.”
“Well, now.” Daddy knocked knuckles against my dresser with a cheerful nod. “That’s mighty nice of you.” After a little back and forth about the way tomorrow should go, and after Pete agreed to catch the last half of the game with him, Daddy finally left us alone—after swinging the door wide. We both visibly relaxed as soon as he was gone.
“Ready for some meds?” Pete asked when he saw me rubbing the back of my neck, which was pretty sore, too.
I nodded but not too enthusiastically—the throbbing was getting worse.
He cracked open the RX bottle and shook out two oval-shaped pills. Then pulled out one of his famous dark water bottles and twisted it open to some zippy steam. I quickly swallowed them down, ready to feel some relief.
“Anything you want to do bathroom wise, you better do it now,” he advised. “These are going to knock you out pretty good.”
“Would you mind handin’ me the alarm first?”
Pete narrowed his eyes. “You’re not really planning on getting up tomorrow morning?”
“No,” I said, miffed he didn’t think I was capable of following directions. “I’m settin’ it for three hours, so I’ll make sure to wake myself up through the night.”
A certain look I was starting to recognize softened Pete’s features. “You can’t rely on your father.” He stated the obvious.
My eyebrows slanted down. “Have you met my father?”
He chuckled and patted my leg. This confused me: Was that a love tap, or a brotherly pat?
“That’s a good idea, but unnecessary . . . I’m already one step ahead.” I looked up to find eyes that were twinkling, and a mouth with a distinct smirk upon it. “Trust me,” he said.
I took in a breath, deciding not to ask questions—just trust him. It felt good to rely on someone else. Besides, I couldn’t remember ever being so tired. And that was saying something. All I wanted to do was fall blissfully back to sleep. But first, I urgently needed to use the bathroom.