And when we were both back on my couch with our plates in front of us, me with crossed legs, Knox with his long legs stretched out, bare feet on my coffee table, Jacques hanging close because he took his job of cleaning up any food that dropped on the floor super seriously (his record of falling on a dropped morsel: half a nanosecond), Knox brought it up, his eyes on the TV.
“I never thought I’d hear you two talk to each other like that.”
“I know,” I agreed.
He reached out to squeeze my knee (I’d allowed him to take his arm out of the sling so he could hold up his plate, which I did not think onerous enough to tear his stitches, then again, in all of our other activities that hadn’t happened, so I was beginning to learn not to worry).
“Happy about that for you,” he muttered after he went back to his food.
I was happy too.
Happy I was hanging on my couch, eating dinner with my guy.
Happy my dog was happy our guy was back.
Happy I was no longer in a seven-way tiff with all my girls.
And happy I was building something with my sister.
If we could get Knox’s family to back off and Cheyenne to back down, life would be amazing.
In time, I would be reminded things like that didn’t come very easily.
Even so, I was so happy, I didn’t let that moment slide.
I memorized it, just as I settled safe in the knowledge that night was going to be the first of many.
An eternity.
SIXTEEN
SWEET CENTERING
I woke before Knox, curled into his side, the sun not yet up in the sky, but I could see his head, still handsome even in shadow, on the pillow beside mine.
I woke early because it was habit, considering I had the early shift at SC.
And I woke because, like last night, he was snoring softly.
Truth, his position didn’t look comfortable at all, trussed in that sling with no choices available to him but lying on his back.
And I’d never heard him snore, maybe because he was a side sleeper, and by side sleeper I meant spooner, and he wasn’t fussy about who played the big spoon, just as long as we slept with maximum physical contact.
There was another one.
So many things I’d missed.
Too many.
But that was then.
This was now.
Careful not to disturb him, I slid from the bed and heard Jacques jump down with me.
Being as quiet as possible, I tugged on some joggers under Knox’s army tee I was still wearing, pushed my feet in my beat-up Tom’s, and grabbed my wee baby’s leash that had the attached cache of poo bags.
We headed down to the courtyard. Even though Jacques had to have every inch of it claimed by now, my puppers was never one to fall down on a job.
