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“Me either, although now they’re telling me I can’t go until they’re finished with the investigation. Plus the doctor is being a jerk, saying I need at least six weeks to recover.”
“Will you need any skin grafts?” she asked, wincing when she looked at the burn on the back of his neck. It stopped halfway, and she thought perhaps that was where Mike’s body had shielded Devon’s from the flames.
“Yes,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.
“I wonder if you’ll come to my hospital again,” she said.
“Probably. It’s the place for wounded firefighters. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
Frowning, Aisling knew it was a dichotomy. On one hand, being with Devon was painful because he was there; he’d tried to save Mike. They’d known each other since kindergarten. He was Mike’s best friend and soul mate. Mike had said it apologetically.
“I love you and all, but Devon’s my buddy,” he’d said. “He knows me better than anyone else.”
“I’ll never know you as long as Devon has,” she’d said, smiling. “So I won’t even try to fight it.”
It was true, she was never jealous of Devon. Devon was almost too good to be true. He was loyal, kind, positive and loving. Now there was a chance that she’d know Devon much longer than Mike had .
She could be herself around Devon. There was no stress or demands or even airs she’d have to put on if she was with her girlfriends. Devon had no expectations.
“I’ll take care of you if you’re put on a surgical floor,” she said.
“How embarrassing,” he said, laughing. “You’ll see me in my underpants.”
“I’ll see more than that,” she said, pointing. “You’ll be naked.” She pronounced itneckedwith an accent. “I’ll see everything.”
“Ugh, I’m asking to go somewhere else, then.”
They roared laughing, Devon holding onto his mouth so it didn’t stretch too widely, and they teased each other for the next five minutes.
“I’ll maintain your dignity, even while I take pictures to post online.”
“Forget it, then,” he said, carrying bowls of soup to the patio. “I’m not going anywhere near that place.”
“Don’t you want me to take care of you?” she asked innocently.
“No, I really don’t.”
But she’d end up caring for him that night. The visiting nurse came to change his dressings at dusk, and when Devon took his shirt off with the nurse’s help, Aisling began to weep, seeing the extent of the burns over his chest, back and arms for the first time.
“I had no idea,” she said. “You should probably still be in the hospital.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” the nurse said, looking from Devon to Aisling.
“Mike was my best friend,” Devon said, suddenly self-conscious, feeling like she might be judging them. “Aisling is staying with me just to get away.”
“Mr. Lyon, I promise you I’m not judging you. You have my word. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. Everyone is talking about you carrying a firefighter on your back for miles out of the wilderness. It’s wonderful you have each other to lean on.”
“I can’t imagine going through this without Devon,” Aisling explained. “No one else understands Mike like Devon does. Mike died doing what he loved.”
“Well, I’m so sorry,” the nurse repeated. “Mr. Lyon, it’s an honor to be your nurse, but truthfully, you should be in the hospital.”
“Aisling’s a nurse. She can follow the doctor’s orders.”
“Okay, well, that makes a big difference.”
“Ah, I’m not a burn nurse,” she said.
“You know how to do a sterile dressing change, correct? Plus I just did it, so he’ll be good for forty-eight hours. All you have to do is take his temperature and assess the drainage on the dressings.”
