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A string of Polish epithets announced Aithan’s return from the Land of the Nearly Dead. He plodded into the kitchen and right to the fridge, opened it, and started shoving containers around.
“What’re you looking for?” I put water, coffee, and orange juice on the table for him and Drew.
“Coffee, coffee, coffee.” Drew reached for the closest mug. “My precioussss.”
Aithan didn’t answer me. He reached into the very back of the bottom shelf and pulled out a jar, closed the fridge, and held up his prize.
I squinted. “Dill pickles?”
“Polish hangover cure.” Aithan grabbed two glasses and poured about a quarter cup of pickle brine into each, passing one to Drew. “Na zdrowie.” He clinked his glass against Drew’s.
“Seriously?” Drew eyed it suspiciously.
“Trust me.” Aithan drained the glass, then fished a dill pickle from the jar and ate it in two bites. He followed that with water and orange juice, then murmured, “Thanks, beautiful,” as I placed a bowl of oatmeal before him and another before Drew.
Still considering the brine, Drew asked, “Why and how?”
“Sodium,” Aithan replied. “Booze depletes electrolytes.”
With a shrug, Drew downed the pickle juice. He pulled a face like he’d just sucked on Satan’s tit and immediately chased it with water and coffee.
Aithan spooned a banana slice from his oatmeal. “Potassium.” Next, he tapped the empty orange juice glass. “Vitamin C.”
I added, “Oatmeal is a slow-digesting complex carbohydrate. Almonds contain magnesium.”
Drew tapped the honeypot. “This?”
“Tastes frickin’ good,” I replied.
He smiled and shoveled oatmeal into his mouth. He savored the bite before swallowing. “Oh man, this is amazing, babe.”
I laughed. “Not really, you’re just desperate for nutrition.”
Aithan shook his head. “No, he’s right. This is perfect. You’re perfect.” He gestured from himself to Drew. “We’reimperfect.”
I picked a blueberry from his bowl and smiled as I ate it. “Glad it’s helping.” I kissed first Aithan then Drew. “I’ll be downstairs recording. Clean the dishes for me?”
They agreed and I went down to my office. Tobias had put everything back in order, left the sheets and pillows in a neat pile on the couch, and even returned the cat box to the shower. “Remember to thank him,” I murmured, then powered up my computer and sat at my desk. The last four chapters ofWhite Eagle, Red Poppyawaited editing. I ran the first cued chapter through proofing software and braced for the list of errors. The book’s edit had proved as painful as its recording. “Gonna be a long day,” I muttered and donned my headphones.
I’d pushed myself hard on my run that morning and had the sore muscles to prove it, but the voice in my head was loud today. It labeled me a moron for missing the affair between Tristan and Greer. Said I should’ve shut down the drinking game last night before it got out of hand. And accused me of being so wrapped up in my own problems that I’d missed Aithan’s struggles.
“Focus, Zel,” I ordered myself. I wanted to get this beastly book off my calendar and out of my life, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make the story less boring. It didn’t help that I hadn’t slept soundly last night and felt jittery today. “Focus, focus, focus,” I repeated and looked at the list of errors to fix.
Son of a bitch.There were a lot. I yawned and got to work.
Five hours later, I woke with a start, chin resting on my folded hands, elbows propped on the desk. “Shit.” I’d dozed off about midway through the second chapter. I straightened and stretched, rolling my shoulders. I saved my work, took off my headphones, and stood. Feeling simultaneously tiredandjittery sucked. I grabbed my water bottle and walked in a circle to release some of the agitation. I raised the bottle to my lips and grimaced when I realized my hands had a slight tremor. “Well, fuck.” I glanced at the time. It was after one o’clock and almost seven hours since I’d eaten. “That was stupid.”
I jumped at a tap on the door. “Yeah?”
Aithan opened it and peeked in. “Have you eaten anything since this morning?”
“Are you a mind reader?”
“That’s what I thought.” He came in carrying a tray. “Leftover turkey-apple-raisin hash. I added a handful of spinach and we saved you the last of those amazing applesauce muffins.”
“There were five of those.”
Drew followed him through the door with a mug of tea and a toothy grin. “We got hungry.”
