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“But—”
“You’re a very difficult patient,” she says, putting her hands on her hips.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Honey, I’m teasing.” She walks over to me. “You’re no trouble at all. Do you need help changing?”
“No, I’m good.”
She goes back to the stack of clothes. “I brought you some pajama pants, some t-shirts, and a sweatshirt. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any undergarments to give you. I’ll go out later and get some.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say, knowing she’ll probably do it even I tell her not to. And I do need underwear.
“Breakfast will be ready soon,” she says. “I’ll have Easton bring it down, unless you’d like to join us.”
“I’m fine down here.”
“Are you sure? It might be nice to get out of bed. I’ve got the fire going upstairs. It’s nice and cozy with the snow falling outside.”
That does sound nice, and I haven’t really seen the upstairs.
“Um, yeah, okay.”
“Great! I’ll send Easton down in case you need help with the stairs.” She leaves, closing the door behind her.
I get up and look through the clothes. I hold up a pair of pink plaid flannel pajama pants. I pull them on, loving how soft they feel. They’re way too big so I pull the waist string in and tie it. I look through the t-shirts, which are long-sleeved and also really soft. And unlike all the shirts I own, they don’t have any stains or tears. They look like they’ve never even been worn. I put on the white one, which is too big, but I like it big. It’s more comfortable than something tight.
“Nova?” Easton knocks on the door.
I walk over and open it.
Easton smiles when he sees me. “You’re up, and already dressed.” He leans down to me and whispers, “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t be.”
He’s being really flirty this morning. I like it, but I don’t know why he’s doing it. I told him I’m not ready to be more than friends, and who knows if we’ll even be that? I still don’t know what I’m going to do when I leave here or where I’m going to live.
“How do I look?” I say, standing back.
“I think you look good in anything.”
I look down at the baggy pants and shirt. “That bad, huh?”
“You look great. I just wish you felt better.” He takes my hand. “Think you can make it up the stairs?”
“If we go slow.”
“You don’t have to eat up there if you don’t want to, although if you don’t, you’ll be missing out on a Voss family tradition.”
“You really do this every Saturday?”
“For as long as I can remember. My mom didn’t make as much today since my dad’s not here so you’re not getting the full experience, but it’s good enough.”
When we get upstairs I can already smell the bacon and something baking in the oven. It’d smell a lot better if I wasn’t sick. I’m not sick to my stomach, but I don’t have much of an appetite.
“You made it,” Penelope says, smiling at me as I walk into the kitchen. The blinds above the sink are open and I see the huge white flakes coming down. “Have a seat.”
I look behind me and see a fireplace along the wall, across from the long granite island. The kitchen is huge, almost as big as Ted’s entire apartment.
Easton brings me over to a big comfy-looking chair that doesn’t look like it belongs in a kitchen. It’s next to a table and chairs that are surrounded by a wraparound window that looks out to the backyard, which is covered in snow.
