Chapter 9
Just for the record, I always wrap it up
We moved to the kitchen, and I rummaged through the cabinets to find glasses.
Unlike the kitchen at my house which was all wood and dark tones, the Shepards’ was bright.
The white cabinets and floor contrasted with the slate-gray hue of the countertops and the stainless-steel appliances.
A panoramic window stretched the entire length of the countertop between the refrigerator and the oven, offering an unobstructed view of the backyard.
After they moved in, the Shepards had done some home-improvements, and the house that once belonged to my childhood best friend was similar but different from the one I remembered.
“I love what you guys have done to this place.” I poured us both some water and put hers on the kitchen island. “Drink this. I’m sure you wanna get rid of that horrible taste.”
Melinda stood still, her eyes fixed on me, but her mind seemingly miles away.
“Mel? Did you hear a word I said?”
She blinked. “Huh… Sure.”
“You really sure?”
“Yeah. All good. It-it’s weird having you here in my kitchen.” In a slow perusal, her eyes trailed over the length of me before locking onto my face. Whatever she saw seemed to have pleased her because a ghost of a smile tipped up her lips.
I felt self-conscious under her attention. “Happy to know you have a nurse fixation.”
She shook her head but stopped, pressing both sides of her skull with her hands.
“New rule. No joke. It… Gosh, it hurts.” She took a sip of water and glanced at the staircase.
“I think I’ll lie down before I take a shower.
I’m spent.” Before she could reach the stairs, she doubled over, clutching her abdomen.
“Ouch. It hurts… It hurts so bad. Like someone is stabbing me with a super sharp, burning knife.”
I neared her in three strides. “Do you wanna sit?”
She motioned no with her head, covering her stomach with both hands and taking deep breaths in.
“Want me to drive you to the clinic?”
Again, she shook her head. “It’ll be…” She sucked in a sharp breath and spoke through clenched teeth. “It’ll be over soon.”
I surveyed every detail of her face, trying to find clues to an illness that could explain her pain, but came out empty. “How long has this been going on?”
“Not so long.” She pressed her lips together, jaw taut, and closed her eyes. “It’s fading now.” She straightened after a few seconds, forcing a timid curl to her lips.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I will be. My stomach is all over the place right now. Don’t worry.”
“Go to bed. Please take some medicine for the fever. It will be useful for that headache too. If you don’t, I’ll stick a thermometer into—”
Her eyes rounded, worry playing across her features.
“Your mouth.”
“Oh.” She relaxed her shoulders and nodded slowly.
“Glad to know you have a dirty mind in addition to a nurse fixation.”
She pinched her lips together and averted her eyes before changing the subject. “Mase. Thanks. For taking care of me. You don’t have to, but still, I appreciate it.”
“I’m sure you would do the same for me. Go to bed. Now. Nurse Pierce says so, and you gotta listen.”
With small, slow steps, she disappeared upstairs, and I used the time to go home to shower and change after I sent Coach a message about missing practice and texting my brother so he wouldn’t look for me.
“Mmm, it smells delicious,” Melinda said when she joined me in the kitchen and sat on a stool two hours later.
I watched her from the corner of my eye. Her damp hair was loose over her shoulders, the tips soaking parts of her violet oversized T-shirt. Even dressed down and sick, she still looked like the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, a vision my body had a hard time resisting.
“Good, you’re up.” I turned to fully face her, a ladle in one hand and her mother’s raspberry-pink Kitchen Queen apron tied around my waist. Earlier, I had changed into a pair of washed-out jeans riding low on my hips and a simple white T-shirt.
“Oh, wow. While I was out of it, you’ve turned into a stay-at-home nurse slash chef. Tell me I’m asleep and this isn’t real.” She did her best to keep a straight face but failed because her mouth turned up at the corner as she stared at me.
“Not a dream. I’m right here. I thought of going shirtless, but since you’re sick, I thought my awesomeness would be too much to handle and could blind you, but I can fix it if it helps you get well faster. After all, I caught you ogling me earlier.”
She poked her tongue out, and I winked, loving the light blush coloring her cheeks.
“By the way, I came to check on you half an hour ago, and you were snoring.”
She propped her elbows up on the counter and buried her face in her hands before watching me through her fingers. “Mase, you are incorrigible. You can keep the shirt on. And just to set the record straight, I don’t snore. And I didn’t ogle you earlier.”
“If you say so. Anyway, when you’re done lying to yourself, I wanna inform you that I made soup if you’re hungry. Chicken and noodles. My specialty.”
“You did? You cooked for me? It’s not from a can?”
“Don’t underestimate your nurse, Shepard.
I’m the real deal. Anyway, it’s not a big deal.
My mom gave me a few pointers when I went home to shower quickly and grab my overnight bag with a change of clothes.
She had some leftover chicken and said we could have it.
All I did was chop veggies and make a broth. ”
“You made a broth?”
“Yeah. I’m a man of multiple talents. It’s about time you catch up with the fact.”
“I never doubted it, but I’m still impressed. Your mom was okay with your spending the night here? Something we still need to agree on, by the way.”
“She said she’d raised trustworthy men who took care of those important to them and she was proud I was skipping practice and sleeping over if it meant making sure you were okay. She also told me to use condoms if you and I were sexually active.”
The blush on her cheeks turned into an adorable shade of crimson. “Mase. Huh… It’s not like that. What did you tell her?”
“That you and I were friends and that I was here as Nurse Pierce and nothing else.”
She blew out a breath. “I won’t be able to look your mother in the eye ever again. This is embarrassing.”
I moved closer and held her hands in mine. “No reason to feel embarrassed. Nothing to lose sleep over, okay? Just for the record, I’m putting it here. I always wrap it up, so my mom has nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks for this very personal piece of information I’ve never requested.”
I curtsied. “You’re welcome. Back to business. How are you feeling? Did that nap help with the headache?”
“Yeah. I’m still lightheaded, but I’m actually starving.” Her stomach grumbled as if on cue. “The medicine did wonders for the fever, though.”
“Awesome. Do you feel like eating? Soup is usually my go-to food when I’m sick. I also filled the refrigerator with a collection of sports drinks and ginger ale, just in case.”
“Wow. You thought of everything.”
“I’ve tried.” My face felt warmer as she watched me with something close to admiration.
“Sports drink. Until I’m confident I can tolerate real food.”
“Purple or pink?”
“Wow, I have a choice?”
“Yep. I chose my favorite flavors because I had no idea what you like.”
“Huh…pink?”
“You relax. There are blankets and pillows on the couch. Now go. Nurse’s orders.” I waved her away with a hand. “I’ll bring you that drink and then finish up here.”
“Thanks.” She padded to the living room, leaving me alone with my own thoughts.
Melinda was curled up into a ball on the couch when I joined her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her eyes were glassy, her teeth digging into her bottom lip like she was in extreme pain.
“Hey, talk to me. Where does it hurt?”
“It feels as if someone is stabbing my right side again.” She pointed to her abdomen, and tears filled her eyes.
“It hurts like hell.” She took a few deep breaths.
“It…it comes and goes. Hard to explain. It’s not much of a burning knife now but more…
but more like somebody is sawing my body in two and then taking a break before getting back at it with a vengeance. ”
Her forehead wasn’t hot, so at least the fever hadn’t come back. “You’re not feverish, but let me grab you more medicine. It’s not normal to be in so much pain. You sure you don’t wanna go to the clinic?”
“Nah. The pain meds helped earlier. I’ll be good. I just need to take it easy for a little while.”
Once the pain decreased and she relaxed a bit, I spread a blanket over her and positioned the pillows behind her back so she could take a sip.
She ate half a bowl of soup after she made sure she could keep the sports drink in. “Whoa, you were not kidding. This is delicious. My compliments to the chef when you see him.”
“I will. Mom always says you should sprinkle love in your food when you prep it. That always makes it better. Shhh…it’s our family’s secret ingredient. Don’t tell anyone.”
She mimicked zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me. If you decide to become a chef someday, I’ll eat at your restaurant.”
“I’ll reserve a table just for you by the window.”
Melinda nodded once. “We have a deal.” She handed me her bowl, and I discarded it on the coffee table. “If you were not destined to play football, what would you do?”
“Career-wise?”
She hugged her folded legs, resting her chin on her knees. “Yeah.”
“That’s a good question. I don’t wanna disappoint you, but I wouldn’t work as a chef.”
“Bummer.”
“I know.” I thought for a second. “I love fixing cars, so that could be an option, but I don’t feel like it would fulfill me.
I need action in my life, something that keeps my blood pumping or requires my full attention.
I would also love to start something. A business, a foundation, a…
huh…whatever. Have my own venture to nurture and do something I’m proud of.
I never really thought about it before.”
“I like that. I can see you as a CEO or in a position of importance. You possess natural leadership. It would suit you. I just don’t see you dressed in a suit working behind a desk and carrying a briefcase around and wearing Oxford leather shoes.”
“God, me neither.” I scratched the column of my throat. “I would be terrible at it. Just thinking about wearing a tie every day and I feel claustrophobic.”
She snickered. “Yeah. Forget about the suit and tie five days a week. You look better in jeans anyway.”
“I do?”
She cast a glance down. “It’s my feverish brain talking. Don’t listen to everything I say.”
“Stop making excuses. You don’t have a fever right now. Anyway, while we’re at it, anything else I should add to the growing list of things you like about me?”
She pinched her lips together and shook her head.
“Fine. I’ll let it slide…for now. What about you? What do you wanna study in college?”
She smiled. “Public relations. I love the idea of helping someone or an organization improve their image. Even if they mess up, everyone deserves a second chance in life.”
“Everyone?”
“Nah.” She grimaced. “Not really, but most people do. I would have to work for someone with a conscience, though. I would never be able to help…let’s say…a business that exploits others or someone who abuses other people…or who harms children.” She yawned. “Anyway, sorry I’m boring you.”
“No. You could never bore me. I like that you wanna do good, not just defend others because they pay you to do it.”
Her eyelids fluttered close. “Mase, do you mind if I nap?” She massaged her abdomen in slow circles. “I’m sore and tired as if I’ve trained for hours. My belly feels like a war zone.”
“Need my help to lie down?”
“I think I can manage. Thanks for staying here with me.” She removed pillows from behind her back and flipped to her left side next to me on the couch.
I adjusted the blanket over her. “You sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
All evening, Melinda dozed on and off. At some point, she shifted position when a surge of pain woke her up, and now her head was resting on my thigh, and my arm lingered on her shoulder.
I tried to watch a movie—I really did—but all I could focus on was her body pressed against mine and the soft rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took.
She stirred in her sleep, and her head rubbed against my groin.
As if I had been tased, my body reacted to her every movement.
Careful not to wake her up, I scooted to the side just a tiny bit and tipped my head back.
I stared at the ceiling, breathing in and out slowly before closing my eyes and counting from fifty to one in my head.
That did the trick because the tension in my lower body decreased.
I blew out a puff of air and forced my attention back to the TV screen, still unable to focus on the action playing in front of me.
Nothing about tonight felt real. I was hanging out with Melinda Shepard at her house, taking care of her like it was just another day for us, and she was almost asleep in my arms.
Around eleven, I carried her to her bedroom. We had school in the morning, and I believed she would have a more restful night if she slept in her own bed. She twitched in my arms once but never woke up as I tucked her in.