Page 42 of Cured


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“Yeah, actually, I did. I just woke up a few minutes ago. What time is it?”

“It’s a little after seven. I figured you might be getting hungry.”

“Actually, I’m starved.” She hesitated, “You aren’t going to make me eat lumpy potatoes with mystery gravy and Jell-O, are you?”

I grinned at her, “Nope, no lumpy potatoes. Mine are nice and smooth. Let me go get you a tray.”

“Wait,” she threw her blanket back, “I can come out there to eat.”

“No, tonight, you eat in bed. You shouldn’t be up too much. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

“Fine, but I have to get up anyway. I have to pee.”

“You know where the bathroom is. I’ll get your food while you are taking care of business.” I checked out her legs as she stood, but I convinced myself—almost—that I was just making sure she was steady on her feet before I left her alone.

Yeah, okay.

I brought her a tray with a small variety of food and found her already back in bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Actually, I feel much better after my nap. I didn’t realize how worn out I was just from leaving the hospital.”

“I think you used more energy wrestling me out of my shirt than getting here from the hospital.” She barked out a laugh and winced, grabbing her stomach. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I needed a laugh.” She shifted so I could set the tray over her legs. “I always heard that laughing helped you heal.”

“It does, but it’s still not a good idea after surgery on your abdomen.”

“You’re probably right. Oh, wow! Did you make this?”

“I wish I could take the credit for it, but I ordered it and had it delivered.”

“Well, it looks and—oh, god—it smells delicious.” I had gotten something simple, roast beef au jus, cheese potatoes with a side of green beans, and a soft whole wheat roll.

“This is yummy,” she said as she prepared to shovel another mouthful in. “Aren’t you eating?”

“Yeah, I’ll eat in a few minutes. I just wanted to make sure you were good.”

She chewed slowly, “Can’t you bring your food in here and eat with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah,” she pointed at the television, “maybe we could watch television or something, unless you have something else you need to do. Wait, tonight’s Saturday, right? Don’t you like have some hot date or something?”

I leaned back against the wall with my arms crossed. “My hot date is wearing my t-shirt and eating dinner in my guest bed.”

“Sorry, guess I kind of ruined your weekend.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” I dropped my arms, “Hey, at least she’s in one of my beds.” I winked at her and went to get my food. The thought of curling up in the bed and watching television with her sounded like the perfect date.

Ember and I found an action movie to watch, and after dinner, she snuggled into her pillow. I heard her yawn from time to time, but she kept her eyes open throughout the movie. When it was over, she asked for another pain pill.

I got it and washed up the dinner dishes. When I went back to check on her, she’d pulled my pillow over to her and was hugging it, her face buried in it. She was sound asleep. I turned the television off, kissed her on the forehead, and turned out the light on the nightstand. I stared down at her for a long time, wondering what had happened with the child she’d carried. I had no doubt that was what held her back now. I was more determined than ever to find out the truth now and set her free. As I turned on the bathroom light and left the door cracked for her, I found myself frowning. I had set out to help her, and then move on, but now, I wasn’t sure that’s what I really wanted at all.

* * *

Had I been dreaming? I sat straight up in bed and turned toward my bedside clock: 2:04 A.M. I blinked, rubbed my eyes and then heard a scream coming from the guest room. I jumped out of bed and took off out the door to see what the hell was going on.

Ember was thrashing around in the bed, and I knew that wouldn’t be good for her incision. I grabbed her arms, “Ember, Ember, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

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