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“If you tell me I look like a romantic movie junkie, you’ll get this milkshake down your shirt.”
I chuckled. “That might actually feel good with how hot my ribs feel.”
“Are you okay? Is your skin red or anything? Because that’s supposed to be one of those things we look out for.”
I lifted my shirt. “Nope. I don’t see red. They just feel internally hot.”
“Let me get a thermometer really quickly.”
She whirled around me, bringing me the milkshake before jamming a thermometer under my tongue. She sat there, looking like a worried mother until the damn thing beeped. The relief on her face told me I wasn’t running a fever. Which was a relief to me, too. Because after settling in on this couch, I sure as hell didn’t want to move.
“Okay. Well, we’ll keep an eye on that.”
I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
She handed me the remote. “Find that marathon and I’m going to get my milkshake.”
“And take off those heels?”
She paused. “I suppose I could do that.”
“Are you not supposed to talk around without your heels on or something?”
The mere fact that she had to think about it told me all I had to know, too.
“Want a snack?” she asked.
I nodded slowly. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”
“Wonderful. Because caramel popcorn goes great with a banana shake.”
“Am I supposed to be having all this junk?”
“Don’t worry. I’m cooking a healthy dinner, and there’s no dessert. So we can just have dessert now.”
I chuckled. “I don’t know if it works like that.”
She called out from the kitchen, “Hey! It’s how I’ve kept my figure all these years. And it’s not like you haven’t been eating greasy burgers behind my back.”
“Wait, how did you know about that?”
“You fart in your sleep, Clint. I know all things!”
I threw my head back in laughter as I turned on the projector television. Cecilia came in a few minutes later with a milkshake in one hand and a bowl of caramel popcorn for us to share in the other. I lifted my feet, watching her sit down before I settled my legs onto her lap. And as I flicked through the channels, trying to find this marathon, I felt at peace.
“Thank you, Cecilia.”
“For what?”
“For looking out for me this past week and a half.”
She smiled. “We look out for each other, right?”
I nodded. “Always.”
“Oh! There it is. Fast and Furious 4. Not my favorite. But it’s a good one.”
As we settled into the movie, I found myself staring at her, not the television. I mindlessly sipped the most incredible milkshake I’d ever put in my face, and I gazed at the woman who’d had my back since the ambulance was called. This must be what it felt like to have a parent in my corner. An adult who looked out for me.
