“I was afraid waiting for an ambulance would take too long.He was out cold and it scared me, so I loaded him in my truck to get him to medical care faster.In hindsight, I realize it was probably not the smartest move.I could’ve made it worse.”
I hear the guilt in his voice and put my hand on his shoulder.
“I would’ve done exactly the same thing and am beyond grateful to you looking after him.”
He turns his head away and grumbles something indistinguishable.
From the side, I take a moment to study him.From this angle I see the gray hair buzzed close to his scalp shows a balding spot at his crown.Good for him for embracing it rather than trying to grow his hair longer in an attempt to hide it.It never translates well.
A little coarse around the edges, Clem is an attractive man with strong features, who looks his age.I guess we have that in common.He’s not particularly tall or lean, but rather has a stocky body that, honestly, I find more appealing.I’m sure it has, in no small measure, to do with the fact I’m not exactly a waif myself.
I always was what my grandmother called big-boned, but after I had Remi, my body never quite returned to its pre-pregnancy weight.I didn’t care that much, but my tall, dark, and lean ex minded.He told me so plenty of times, sometimes with his fists.I often think I kept the weight on just to spite him, because once he was out of my life, I started dropping pounds.Now I’m back to simply being big-boned, but I’ve lost my appetite for tall, dark, and lean.
Clem’s clear gray eyes, light skin, and husky build is far more enticing.
Holy hell, where did that train of thought come from?
I can’t believe I’m sitting here, letting my mind even go in that direction, while waiting to hear if my child is going to be all right.
Instantaneously I retrieve my hand, which was still resting on his shoulder, and surge to my feet.
“You don’t have to stay.”
He turns his head to look up at me, his gray eyes questioning.
“You want me to go?”
No.Not really.
I definitely don’t want to insult him by sending him packing.
“Didn’t you say you were on your way to grab dinner?”I remind him.
“Food is the furthest thing from my mind right now,” he informs me as he stands up as well, facing me.“And if it’s all the same to you, I’ll hang around until we hear your son is going to be okay.”
There’s a challenge in the way he looks at me, and I find myself nodding.“Yes, of course.”
“Good.Now, what I could use is a cup of coffee.Would you like one?I believe the hospital cafeteria is open until ten.I can go grab us some,” he offers.
“Coffee would be good, if you don’t mind.”
I’m not sure how much of it I’ll drink, but I welcome a break in the somewhat unsettling tension between us.Maybe tension isn’t the right term for it, but I’m not sure how else to describe it.I’m not sure of anything I’m feeling at the moment, too much is happening at once, but I only have one priority right now, and that is my son.
Oh shit, I should probably call Linc.Or should I wait until I know something more?The last thing I want is for him to drive when he’s upset.I know the moment I call him; he’ll be on his way.
I’m still struggling with my dilemma when Clem returns, a tray with two cups and a pair of white paper bags in his hand.He hands me one of the cups and one of the bags.
“I forgot to ask how you take your coffee, so you’ll have to doctor it up yourself.”
I find a few creamers, a collection of sugars and sweeteners, and a stir stick.
“In the morning, I don’t want anything diluting my coffee,” I share as I add a couple of the creamers and one sugar to my cup.“I need the full force, but if I have coffee in the afternoon or at night, I prefer it a little mellower with cream and sugar.I drink too much as it is.”
“I hear you.I used to be like that but have cut down to one or two a day,” he contributes.“I’m a cream and sugar guy myself.”
He sits back down but one chair away, and sets the second, larger bag on the seat between us.
“Turns out I’m a little peckish after all,” he admits, fishing a muffin from the bag.“Brought one for you too, in case you haven’t eaten either.”
