Page 118 of Theta

Dr. Lia looks to me for help, and I just shrug too. "Don’t look at me. She's right. Uncle Val is gonna do what he's gonna do. Ask for a glass of water and he'll get you a whole-ass bottling facility."

"I do not know what this ‘bottling facility’ is,” she struggles with the phrase, somehow managing to add syllables. "But I understand." She slaps her thigh with her tablet. "Okay. You rest now. I must check on my other patients."

"Riposa," I say. "My favorite Italian word."

She just laughs as she exits the room, and now, finally, Story and I are alone for a moment or two.

"Quite a pair, aren't we?" Story says.

"Certainly are," I say, looking at her.

She smiles. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me?" I say. "I didn't almost die."

She just tips her head in a shrug-like gesture. "I'm not going back to Minnesota," she says, after a moment or two. "I'm gonna need a few months to recover and regain my strength before I can go back to work."

I lick my lips. "I…I suppose I should admit that I wouldn’t entirely hate it if you never went back. Too damn cold up there for me." I look at her. "I just…I mean—"

She reaches out, moving very carefully, and takes my hand. "I know." She gives me a long, steady look. "We haven't really had a chance to discuss what us actually being together would look like, have we?"

I shake my head, yawning so widely my jaw aches. "No, and we need to. After a nap."

"Too bad we can't do like your mom. Glass of wine, a nap, and an orgasm."

I shake my hands. “Can you not? It's bad enough I know how they sound."

"Don't you find it inspiring how in love with and passionate for each other our parents are, still, after all these years?" she asks.

I nod. "God yes. I just don't need to see, hear, or think about my parents having sex."

She huffs a laugh. "I suppose that's valid."

"So you're heading to Miami from here, I suppose?" I ask.

"That is the plan, as of now, yes." She gives me a long, carefully blank look. "Did you have another idea?"

"I…yeah," I say. "Come to the compound."

"We are both gonna need a lot of support for quite some time,” she says, gazing away thoughtfully.

"I just don't want to waste any more time," I murmur. "I don't want to be away from you."

She gives me a soft smile. "I don't want to be away from you either. We can talk about it more after we wake up."

My eyes won't stay open anymore. "Okay." I sigh. "Wish I could hold you."

"Me too. Soon, though."

"Not soon enough."

"No, not soon enough," she agrees.

Dad pops his head in, then, to let us know that Enzo is alive and well and reunited with his daughter and mother-in-law, and is recuperating in Rome.

Sleep claims me, then. I dream of Story on a beach, wearing nothing but a smile.

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