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I chuckle.“I got crutches for that.I’d probably crush you if you tried to hold me up.”
Carleigh frowns.“Hey, I’m stronger than I look!”
“That’s cute.You asked me to open a jar of peppercinis literally yesterday.”I wink; she sticks her tongue out.“I have to take a shower.I was vile before I took a bath in the concrete, so I can’t imagine how much worse it’s gotten.But don’t throw out my sandwich, I’m going to eat that.”
“Oh, no you aren’t.I’ll make you something better.”Carleigh watches me as I take careful steps down the hallway.“Do you need help?”she asks, tone uncertain.
I turn around and grin.“Like, nurse Murphy gives me a sponge bath?”
Her cheeks flush pink.“No, like – do you need to wrap the … this thing,” she says, taking a couple of steps toward me and pointing at the boot.
“No, it comes off, I just have to be careful.”Then, because I just can’t help myself, I add, “So, you’re saying the sponge bath is off the table?”
The blush from Carleigh’s cheeks has spread to her chest now.It’s so sweet, I can barely stand it.“We’ll have to see how bad you get,” she answers in a cool tone, eyes sparkling.“Now go, shower.”
“Okay, okay,” I agree, and hobble away.
After my shower, I changed into a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt, figuring that the lack of both sleeves and pant legs would allow me to better monitor the injuries.Plus, it’s hot outside, and even though we have air conditioning, the apartment is pretty warm.Carleigh must be baking something.
I shuffle down to the living room and see Carleigh has set me up on the couch with the strategically-placed remote, an ice cold bottle of a local kombucha, and what looks like a vastly-improved version of my corner deli sandwich.I just settled down onto the good spot when she comes around the corner, holding a jar of my best half-sour pickles and looking vaguely apologetic.
“Sorry,” Carleigh says by way of beginning.“I wanted to have it ready, but I need you to open this.”
I smile at her, take the jar, and open it easily.When she gives me a wry look, I say, “You must’ve loosened it, babe.”
Carleigh makes a face, but doesn’t say anything as she drops a few pickles on my plate.I try to avoid it, but it’s difficult not to notice the view down the top of her dress that she is providing me by leaning over my plate.I don’t see anything untoward, mostly because the bodice is actually pretty slim-fitting compared to a lot of her clothes, but I’m now pretty aware she can’t be wearing a bra with this dress.
She returns the jar to the kitchen and then comes back, sitting a polite distance away on the couch.“Does it hurt right now?”she asks, her brow wrinkled in concern.
“Not really, Carleigh, just kind of a dull ache.”I jut my thumb in the direction of my bedroom.“I got some pain stuff.Nothing real fancy.Just extra-strength normal stuff.”I click the TV on, then have a flash of memory from when I first arrived home.“Hey, what were you celebrating?”
“Huh?”
“When I got home,” I clarify.“And you were having your one-woman dance party.You were saying you were celebrating something, then I horned in with my ankle and interrupted.”
“Oh.”Carleigh smiles and a light appears in her face.“I submitted a draft of this one tricky section of my paper to my supervising professor.Nothing really to celebrate, I guess, I’ve just been kind of struggling with it for the last few weeks I still have other sections and I’ll definitely have more to do on this one later, too, once I get feedback, but it feels really good to have at least one kick at part of the can out the door.”
“That’s great!”I gesture to her phone.“Is that what Bruce was all about?”
Carleigh laughs.“Yeah.I’ve decided to take every small victory I can.”
I clap my hands together.“That’s the spirit!So, how are we celebrating?”
“Oh, it’s not – it’s not a real milestone,” Carleigh dismisses.“It’s not a real thing to celebrate.I was just letting off some steam.”
I shrug and pick up my sandwich.“Who cares if it isn’t real?Let’s let off some steam.I’m a bit tougher to drag around right now, but let’s do something fun.At least, turn Bruce back on!”
“I’ve got dough resting,” Carleigh informs.“When it’s ready for the oven, sure.I was also going to go to the store to get stuff for dinner…”
“We can order in.”I point to my leg.“I’m hurt, remember?Sick person gets to pick.”
Carleigh rolls her eyes.“That’s not a real thing, but okay, twist my arm.Don’t pick something vile, though.”She tucks her legs up beside her delicately, sticking her toes between the cushions, and leans in my direction.There’s still about two feet between us, which is a normal distance to leave between friends, but right now I’m feeling a little cuddlier than usual.
So, I lift an arm up and gestures for her to move closer.“Come here.I don’t stink anymore.”
There’s no hesitation on her part, which I know has to be because we’ve built up a pretty good level of base physical affection at this point, so it’s not weird anymore.I’m a hugger, always have been, and she constantly seems like she needs one.Simple as that.
Plus, Quinn isn’t here to give me the side-eye like he did all of July 4th.I don’t have to justify myself to anyone except Carleigh, and she seems perfectly content to sit here against my chest with my arm around her waist and watch reruns ofTop Gear.The only problem now is I have to finish eating this sandwich one-handed.
