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I relaxed a fraction. Had she been doing that? I was a jerk for not noticing.
“She bumped her head the other day but hasn’t complained.” I stood, suddenly needing to examine her myself. “Shall we see if lunch is ready?”
“It’s not. I just came from the kitchen.” He got to his feet. “But we can go anyway.”
Eric’s footsteps and the click of dog paws on the floor echoed in the hall. It was still odd to hear any other noise beyond what I made. I no longer craved the quiet.
Lexie sat on one of the barstools with her head resting on the island. That panicked feeling I’d never grow used to crept to the surface.
I placed a hand on her back, gently rubbing it. “Lexie? Are you all right?”
She turned her cheek so I could see her face but kept her head down.
“I have a monster of a headache.”
I was surprised she admitted that in front of Eric . . . or me. She was tough and always put forth a brave face. Which meant it must be horrendous.I should call the doctor.Maybe he could see her this afternoon. No. It was Lexie’s decision. Not mine. If she needed to go, she would.
A timer dinged.
“Lunch is ready,” she said half-heartedly.
“I’ll call the physician.”
She caught my arm. “Make sure the paninis don’t burn. And I’m fine. I just need to lie down a minute.”
Who cared about the paninis?
“Do you need aspirin, sis?” Eric patted her shoulder.
“That would be great.” She sounded like a tired version of herself. An in-pain version. She lifted her head and slid off the stool. “Either eat my sandwich or save it for later.”
She disappeared, and I followed.
“Lincoln, turn off the panini press,” she said without looking back.
“The aspirin are more important.”
She turned as if to retrace her steps. “It can wait two seconds. I’ll turn it off myself.”
I caught her by the shoulders and spun her. “I’ll do it. Just rest.”
The sandwiches only had a slight char when I turned off the appliance and lifted the lid. I put them on a plate and set one on the island for Eric.
“Have some lunch. I’ll return in a moment.”
“Okay.”
My steps were quick as I moved to our bedroom. Lexie’s shoes were kicked off near the door and she was already huddled underneath the covers.
I rummaged in the cabinet for aspirin and dumped out two when I found them.
“Thank you.” She swallowed them chased by a sip of water. “Can you close the curtains, please? The light.” She pulled the comforter over her head again.
Was she having a migraine now?
I pressed a button near the bedside table and the hum of the electric curtains closing began. I sat on the edge of the bed.
“What can I do?”
