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Yeah, I miss napping with u. You’re the best pillow a girl can get. Thanks for taking such good care of me last night. U helped a lot.
Well, I did promise to hold your hand and your hair.
I laughed at that.
Glad I CAN help again. Feels good not to need handholding.
Psh. You’re an easy patient. I’m the one who’s a big baby.
U were in pain & puking. Been there. Done that. Nothing fun about it. Give yrself a break.
U coming home soon?
Yeah, probably leave around 2. Getting a headache.
Don’t overdo it, lover.
Yes, ma’am. Gonna wrap up a few things then stop by Scumwater. U take your own advice too. OK?
OK. Love u.
Love u too.
Aithan always, always,alwaysmade me feel better. I put my phone in airplane mode and openedWhite Eagle, Red Poppy. I was just over halfway through. “Okay, Zel. Finishing a few more chapters gets you closer to ‘The End’.” I pulled up my digital audio workstation, took another sip of water, and pressed the RECORD button.
Hoar and rime swathed Hamtramck. Crystals coruscated on the windows. Silver icicles trailed from darkened downspouts, threatening to plunge, threatening to fracture upon the heads of passersby, shatter their peace, disintegrate the gelid hibernal tranquility of this December Michigan morning.
4
THE BAD, THE UGLY, AND THE GOOD
I managed four hours— with breaks after every chapter — before my body said enough. With nothing in my stomach to sustain me, I was shaky from low blood sugar when I finally stopped recording.
I saved the files, shut down the equipment, and exited the gray booth. My fingers always got painfully stiff after a gut flare-up and I opened and closed my fists to ease the discomfort. Pulling back the heavy blackout curtains that covered the glass slider, I peered into a rainy Seattle fall day. Wind lashed the conifers and maples surrounding our complex. The cover flapped on the barbecue.
The floor creaked overhead. Drew was awake or Aithan had come home. Maybe both. It was just a little after two o’clock and my stomach gurgled.
“Is that hunger or another complaint?” I asked it. Sometimes it was hard to tell.
Shutting off the lights, I went to the front door and took the R off the doorknob, then I dragged my weak ass up the stairs. I was ready to try food but scared it would come back to bite me. The chances were sixty-forty for a crappy outcome. No pun intended.
The kitchen and living room were empty. Drew must’ve gone back upstairs to the master, probably to start his next novel; the man was fucking prolific. As I stared forlornly at the pantry’s contents, the front door locks rattled and clicked. Aithan was home.
A moment later, he came up the stairs and dropped his gym bag. “Hey, you’re still upright. That’s a good sign.” He put a paper shopping bag on the kitchen counter and swept me into a hug.
I melted into his arms. It felt damn good to be held by him.
“How’re you doing?” he murmured against my hair.
I mustered a weak smile. “Fragile and shaky.” His hug made me feel better but also more breakable. He let go and unpacked the bag. “Well, this should help. Bone broth with carrots, onions, ginger, and celery from Tobias. He called Sam and had the kitchen prepare a meal to heal you.” Sam was Scumwater’s head chef.
I stared at the quart of soup and damn if the glue holding my pieces together didn’t crack. “You guys are so good to me,” I said, my voice tremulous. I looked up, saw the concern on his face, and lost my cool completely. I covered my face as a big, ugly sob tore outta me.
“Oh, Zel.” He pulled me right back into his arms and just held on as I cried and snotted all over his T-shirt. “Let it out.”
“I hate this,” I mumbled. “It always happens after my stomach has screwed with me.”
“Well, yeah. You were in pain for hours. I bet you haven’t eaten all day, and stress hormones are having a heyday all over your body. They gotta go somewhere and crying is a fast way to get ’em out.” He pulled a tissue from the box on the kitchen counter and gave it to me.
