“Okay,” Em replies. Her voice is soft and quivers slightly. She swallows and plasters on a fake smile, one like she gives me when I’m driving her crazy in public and she’s trying to be polite.
She’s nervous. Scared.
Years ago, she would wake up in the middle of the night crying and completely terrified. She never could work out why, and we always figured it was a bad dream she never remembered. The tears and bad dreams stopped the night I went from sleeping on her floor to sleeping in her bed.
She’s afraid it will happen again.
I lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “It’ll be okay.”
She gives me half a smile and closes her eyes. “Colt?”
“Mmm...”
“Kiss me?”
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” I say, ignoring her question. She grins, putting on a brave face for both of us and then she’s wheeled out of the room.
I pace the room anxiously. I do not enjoy being with her for something like this. She’s scared. And I’m freaking the fuck out. What if they screw up and I lose her, too? I don’t think I could survive that. I’m never letting her out of my sight again. We’ll be joined at the hips from now until eternity.
After what seems like forever, Austin strolls in. A big teddy bear under one arm, a bouquet of flowers and a small overnight bag in his hand.
“What do you think you’re doing with that?” I eye the overnight bag, much like his gym bag.
“It’s not for me, dude. Calm down. I picked up a few things for Em.” He drops the bag on the chair. “And for you, too.”
“Me?”
With a lift of his shoulders, he turns away and places the flowers and bear on the bedside table. “Yeah, I know you won’t leave her side until she comes home. So I figured you might need clothes, and a toothbrush at least.”
I rub both hands over my face, dragging my skin back like a facelift gone wrong. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem. How is she?”
“In surgery. They need to put pins in her arm and a cast on her leg.”
“What the hell happened?”
I fill him in as best I can without knowing all the details, and he sits with me until the nurse comes and tells me I need to get rid of the chickens or she’ll call security.
They haven’t caused that much damage.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Austin says, leaning down and picking up the leashes. “Want me to take them back to your apartment?”
I hand him my keys. “Yeah. Put them in the coop and check there is enough food and water for the night.”
Em was out shopping for supplies for them when she crashed, but there should be enough for a few days.
After Austin leaves, I pace Emerson’s room again while I wait for her to return. The staff are much nicer to me now the chickens have gone. One stops in to see if I want a coffee while I wait. Another stops by to keep me updated, assuring me everything is going well and that Em will be out soon.
It does little to ease the fear and tension in my chest, and I’ve almost worn a path in the tiles and pulled all my hair out by the time they wheel Em back in.
She’s awake, but completely out of it. The nurse gets her settled in, makes her comfortable, and lets me know she’ll be sleepy for a while until the anesthesia wears off entirely. As soon as the nurse leaves, I kick off my shoes and climb on the bed beside Em, careful not to knock her arm or her ankle, hoping that she can go home tomorrow.
Hospitals make me uncomfortable and I don’t want to be here any longer than I need to be. The memories of my mom’s death, too much. I never want to witness that pain and anguish, and total heartbreak on my dad’s face again.
22
Emerson
“Colt, just shoot me. It’ll save you a lot of trouble. Put me out of my misery,” I say as Colt helps me into the bathroom.
Trying to get around on one leg and with one arm is incredibly difficult. You never realize how much you use a limb until you can’t.
I wasn’t aware of it the first week because I was in so much pain and placed on strict bed rest until I recovered from my concussion. The painkillers kept me drugged up enough that I didn’t have a care in the world for the first day or so. After that, I was so desperate to move I didn’t care that Colt had to carry me wherever I needed to go.
It wasn’t until I was finally out of bed and told to go about my day as normal as possible, that it sunk in how difficult it would be to do ordinary tasks.
“It’s no trouble.”
“This is pushing our friendship way over the line though. You shouldn’t have to help me pee.”
“You want to help me pee? Will that make you feel better?”
I slap his chest. “Gross.”
Colt tips his head back and laughs. “Offer’s there. I wouldn’t mind an extra hand.”
“Pig.”
“Relax, I’m not helping you pee. You can do that yourself. I’m your legs and arms.” He places me on the floor in front of the toilet before dropping to his knees in front of me.
He smirks, and I can almost hear the thoughts screaming in his head.
I rest my good hand on his shoulder for extra balance while I stand there on one foot. Colt’s fingers slide under the hem of my shirt, his shirt, and grip the waistband of my panties. He drags them down my legs and stands up, placing his hands on my hips to hold me so I don’t fall over. With his help, I’m able to sit myself down on the toilet.
Colt leaves, giving me what little privacy I have left. And once I’m finished, I call out to him again.
“Colt.”
“Finished?” He knocks on the door and peers around the corner.
I nod. It’s so embarrassing, and if it were anyone else helping me, I’d be mortified. The hospital wanted me to take a wheelchair but living in such a small apartment would have made it harder to move around. Colt has been my savior.
He comes in, helps me stand, and pulls my panties back up my legs then deposits me in front of the sink so I can wash my hand.
“Thanks,” I say and take in my appearance in the mirror.
I look terrible. My hair is greasy and knotted. My eyes are black and sunken in. I haven’t slept well in two weeks. It’s hard to get comfortable when you have plaster from fingers to shoulder, and your foot propped up on a pillow all night.
“Gross. I need to wash my hair.”
“We can do that.” Colt shrugs before picking me up and sitting me on the counter beside the sink.
“How?”
He stares at me like I’m stupid and glances at the bath.
I raise my eyebrows. “Colt, I can’t get my casts wet.”
“I know. Stay there.” He disappears and returns a minute later with a chair and two pillows. He places the chair in front of the tub and drops one pillow on the seat, and the other on the floor.
Picking me up, he lowers me to the pillow on the floor, helping me to lean back against the tub, and props my arm up on the chair so I can hang my head over the tub.
Colt turns the water on and tests the temperature, then runs out of the room only to come back with a jug. He fills it and pours water over my head.