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“Ah, shit. Do you want me to lie you down again?”
“Water,” I say. I hear how I’m slurring my words.
Simon puts the glass up to my mouth and a little bit of water trickles in. I want to see Simon. He’s been gone, but I know opening my eyes will hurt too much.
The water is gone, which is good because I want to lie down again. I don’t know if I said it out loud, or Simon just read my mind, but he lowers me back to a pillow that no longer feels like cement. Now it feels like it’s filled with oranges. I guess that’s an improvement.
“Baby, the doctor said it might make you feel better if I massage your head. Can I do that for you?”
I’m not quite sure what he’s asking, but it’s Simon so I say, “Yes.”
He moves my body, which makes me moan. I should not have said yes. Then I’m still again. At least I didn’t throw up. I feel his fingers slide through my hair as he holds my head up a little from the uncomfortable pillow. I relax the tiniest amount because his hands feel good. Then his fingers press in just a little bit and stroke upward from the base of my skull to the top of my scalp. One hand always supporting me, as the other hand does that same rhythm.
“Ahhh.”
I feel my body begin to relax a tiny bit instead of holding itself rigid, trying to brace against the pain.
“What day is it?” I ask.
“Wednesday.”
“You left this morning?” I remember.
“Yes.”
“What time is it?”
“A little before midnight.”
I should not be feeling this good. I should still be racked with pain, and I say so.
“Bernie had Dr. Evans follow him up and he gave you a shot that he said might help on the duration and pain level of your migraine. It sounds like it did. Nice guy. He stayed for the barbeque.”
“I don’t remember Doc Evans giving me a shot.”
Simon continues with the massage.
After the pain I’ve been in, this massage is almost, not quite, but it’s up there, on par with an orgasm.
“You’ll have to give me a massage some time,” Simon chuckles.
“Ah, damn, did I say that out loud?”
He chuckles a little louder. “Sure did. I like Trenda unfiltered. You’re always so cautious about what you say, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. I like that you feel like you can be your real self with me. Let me get you some more water, then we can work on the massage again.”
“Okay.”
I’m careful not to think that I don’t want water, because that means he has to stop. I wait. He doesn’t chuckle. Okay, I’m in the clear. I’m thinking things and not saying them. That’s a relief.
He continues to hold my head with one hand and brings the water to my lips. I take a longer sip this time. It tastes so good.
“Do you want some more?”
“Yes please.”
He tips the glass and I greedily take some more. Then he goes back to massaging my head for long moments, until I start to finally feel human.
“Where’s Bella?”
