She must have been there all night, her hand linked in mine even as she slept. She hadn’t left me, clearly. I smiled and let my eyes relax, and even with the headache thumping, I drifted back off to sleep.
When I awoke again an hour or two later, my body was itching to move. The clock in the kitchen read almost eight, which was about as late as I ever slept. I could hear a rustling in Everett’s room, and Rebecca shifted on my lap, still asleep. Even with the headache, having Rebecca stay there all night was a win. Hopefully, it wasn’t another prelude to her leaving like our last good night together.
I wanted her by my side, forever. I just didn’t quite know how to tell her. Or if she was interested.
The shifting in Everett’s room got louder, followed by Everett appearing in the kitchen, peeking in. He was already dressed for work and was fiddling with the coffee maker. He smiled and snapped off a half salute, half wave. I lifted the fingers on my left hand, still in its cast. It was as good as I could do, and even that send shock waves of pain through my body.
A few minutes later, Everett came in with a TV dinner tray containing a cup of coffee and a small bowl with the collection of pills that I assumed was my daily concoction. There was a table beside the couch, and Everett sat the tray on it. Again, Rebecca stirred, and as I sat up a little, she woke up fully, pushing herself up away from me, her eyes still mostly shut. Hair hung down in front of her eyes from where it had been pulled up in a ponytail.
“Coffee,” she moaned.
I chuckled and then stopped suddenly. Moving my chest too much, even in laughter, was painful. I groaned, and Rebecca’s eyes opened further, suddenly turning to a look of concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I forced out. “It just hurts to laugh. It hurts to do anything.”
“I bet,” Everett said. “Do you remember much from yesterday?”
“Not really,” I said. “I remember the tree falling on the front of the truck. Then I remember waking up and talking to the doctor and seeing you guys. Then I vaguely recall coming inside and sitting on the couch and you calling me old.”
“Well, that about wraps up the day,” Everett joked. “All the relevant stuff anyway.”
“The doctor said you had a concussion,” Rebecca said.
“Ahh. Broke my arm too?”
“Yes,” said Everett. “Jammed up your neck real good too. They don’t want you doing much that requires you to stand or walk for a day or two. It’s going to hurt anyway, so that probably won’t be much of an ask.”
“No, I don’t particularly want to run a marathon right now,” I said. “But I would like some of that coffee.”
“Your pills say to take them on an empty stomach, so you have to wait for a half hour or so before you can eat,” Everett said.
“Got it.” I felt like I could probably handle not eating for a good while. My stomach was doing churning things that I wasn’t fond of.
“I got it,” Rebecca said, grabbing the pills and the coffee.
“You want a sip before I have some?” I asked.
“God yes,” she said.
I laughed and nodded a little, and she took an experimental sip, followed by a longer, deeper one. Her eyes shut, and her mouth curled up in a smile for a moment, and then she opened them, looking more alert and in control already.
“Better?” I asked.
“Much. I’ll go make my own in a few.”
“No need. I’m not really much in the mood. I just need a few sips.”
“You sound better,” Everett said.
“Are you saying I sounded like shit yesterday?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said immediately and then laughed.
Again, I chuckled, then moaned as the laughter turned into pain.
“Alright, I have to get out of here,” Everett said. “Somebody is slacking off and hanging out on the couch and in the bed for a while, so I need to pick up the slack.”
“I owe you one,” I said. “Thanks, Everett.”
“Oh, shut up,” he said. “I’m just being a jerk. You stay here and rest up, and don’t hurt yourself anymore. I’m leaving you in very capable hands.”
“What about work?” I asked. “You need to go to work too.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m going to call in at the diner so I can stay here with you. I’m leaving that diner anyway, but your business can’t have two of you out. Everett and I talked about this in the hospital.”
“You did?”
“We did,” Everett said. “Decision’s final. Oh no. You have to stay in a house with a pretty girl waiting on you hand and foot. What a tragedy.”
“Alright, alright,” I said. “Get out of here before our whole company falls apart.”