Chapter Seven
The ride out of town and down the dark highway to the motel was a non-talkative ride. However, it wasn’t completely silent; with every shift in gears, Jeremy released a low growl that matched the grinding and jerking motion. Apparently, it wasn’t like riding a bike again.
I wanted to explain how it needed a tune-up desperately but then I didn’t want to explain how my barista job barely covered my basics. When I learned my parents were milking my bank account for all they could, at the behest of my agent, I hired a financial planner who set up a trust fund account. Part of my earnings were shifted into that account, but I couldn’t touch it until I turned twenty-nine. I only had to wait three more years.
As much as it sucked living paycheque to paycheque, there was something wonderful about owning my own expenses, even if there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room at the end of the month for random expenses like fixing a car. So I made do and pushed back repairs since the car was functional at 80%.
All said though, I was happy with the state of my life because it was mine.
Or I was happy.
Until Wednesday. Or tonight, after the concert.
Jeremy parked outside my motel room door and walked around to help me out of the car.
Scrunching my face at the pain and discomfort of twisting to step onto the ground, I fought back tears. Again. Poor Jeremy. He barely knew me, and here I was a blubbery disaster. At least when he saw me at work, or in the motel office, I was pulled together. Tonight I was an epic mess. Plus, my head throbbed more than I was willing to admit, my elbow ached, and my pride took a disastrous fall.
He helped me into my suite and flicked on the lights.
I squinted from the brightness, and Jeremy crossed the floor to the bathroom, flipping that light on too. It bathed the area in a soft, muted glow that was much appreciated once the main lights were turned off.
“Thank you,” I sighed, slowly unbuttoning my jacket, and hanging it on the back of the door.
“What can I get you?”
“Nothing. Think I’ll take whatever meds they sent home and watch some TV until I fall asleep.”
“Actually, screen time is prohibited.” He waved the sheet of instructions the nurse had handed me. “However, I found a crossword app. I can read out clues until you get tired.”
With that, I involuntarily yawned.
“Guess it won’t take too long.” He smiled, all warm and sincere. “Why don’t you get ready for bed, and I’ll run out and grab a few things?”
I stood there, unsure of what I needed, or what he felt he needed to grab.
“If you give me fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen?” I surprised myself with my questioning tone.
He tripped over his words. “Ten. Ten should work.”
I nodded. “Fine. Ten.”
He opened the door. “I’ll knock twice before I enter.” And with that, he exited, closing the door behind him.
Grabbing the few pills the nurse had provided; I chugged them back with some water and went to ready myself for bed, opting to stay in my leggings and sweater. My usual bedtime routine was a little hard to do with only one completely functioning arm, but I managed, still unsure what ached more—my elbow or my bruised ego.
Sauntering back into the main area, I surveyed the space. How was I going to sleep? I only had one pillow, not enough to prop myself up with, but then again sleeping sitting up wasn’t going to happen either. It was impossible to sleep like that. I one-handedly fluffed the life out of my pillow and set it at the head of the bed.
A couple of soft knocks sounded on the door.
Jeremy.
My surprising white knight in work boots, Jeremy stood at the entrance with his hands full. Two pillows tucked under one arm and a Costco-sized reusable bag overflowing in the other.
“Are you moving in?” It was a joke, and thankfully, my question was accepted as much.
He stepped inside and set the giant bag on the floor. “No. My place is nicer.”
A deep frown pushed my eyebrows down and darkened my view.
He did a quick survey of my neat and tidy space. “Yours is nice, don’t get me wrong. Mine is just… bigger. More like an apartment size.”
“But you live here, right? Weren’t all the rooms the same?”
“I do, but mine’s on the second floor.” I continued to stare as if he was speaking a different language. “In the corner. Above the corridor beside the office. Almost two units big.”
“Ah, well, that’s a sweet perk. Never have to go far for work.”
“Just down the stairs.” He handed me a pillow. “An extra for you to help cushion your shoulder and arm.”
Aww, that was so sweet. “Thank you.”
“And the extra is for me. Those chairs,” he pointed to the single-person sofa chairs, “are not the most comfortable. But the pillow will help.”
“You’re spending the night?”
“Someone needs to keep an eye on you. Concussions are no joke. If you wake up ill in the middle of the night, I’ll be able to dash you right back to the hospital to get you treated.”
I still stared incredulously.
“I swear, I’ll stay in this chair all night.” He dropped down into one of the sofa chairs. “See? My place for the night. After you get tucked into bed.” From a hidden pocket, he pulled out his phone. “And we can do some crossword puzzles until you get sleepy.” A small smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which I adored seeing, although his irises were rather captivating too. “And I brought snacks. It’s no pizza, of course, but it’ll take the edge off.”
“What did you bring?” I sat on the edge of the bed.
His eyes darted from me to the bag and back again. “Can I get up? I know I just promised you I’d stay put, but I also don’t want you walking around. You need your rest.”
A shy smile played on my lips and I looked over at the bag. “Of course.”
From deep inside the bag he pulled out a few peppermint tea bags, a Tupperware container of soup, and a bag of bagels. “Was kind of a grab-and-go situation.”
“You covered all the basics. Well done.”
With a nod, he crossed the room and tossed the soup into the microwave. Digging around, he found a kettle and started boiling some water.
“Would you like your bagel toasted?”
“What kind is it?” It made a huge difference; some could be toasted, others were best left alone.
He flipped the package around. “Three cheese and jalapeno.”
“Oh, yes. Toasted, please. There’s butter in the fridge.” Nothing like a good heat from the spicy pepper.
He rooted through the tiny fridge until he found it and waved it around. “Thank you. It seems I did forget to bring it with me.” Into the toaster went a bagel. “Into bed. Get comfortable.” He turned his back to me. “I’m a whiz in the kitchen.”
Not sure if he was serious or joking about the whiz part, under a watchful eye, I climbed under the covers, a little surprised to be taken care of like this. This was a definite first. I pulled Grandma’s blanket across my lap.
“Thank you. For being with me tonight, I appreciate it.”
“No worries.”
I sat up, sitting cross-legged. “Do you want to hear something funny?”
“Does it come with a coffee pun?”
I put my finger to my chin and tried to think if there was a way I could incorporate one into my little story. “Not off the top of my head.”
He shook his head, but I didn’t miss the gentle laugh. “Dang. What’s the funny part then?”
“You know how earlier I asked you to be my fake boyfriend for the fundraiser—”
“And you agreed to be my date to the trivia night.”
The toaster popped at the same time as the microwave beeped.
“Right.” I shifted, trying to get comfortable with a sling on. “Well, remember how I’d mentioned that I’d just broken up with my boyfriend. You’re going to love this.” Twisting slightly, I repositioned. “Dr. Derek was that boyfriend.”
Jeremy slowly turned around, his jaw dropping wider with each heartbeat.
“He was the one I was going to give those flowers to”—I pointed to the vase on the table beside him— “But we broke up before I could.”
“Well, that explains the weird look he gave you when I said we were a couple.” He set the knife on the edge of the plate. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was him.”
“It’s all good.”
“He won’t beat me up, will he?”
“I truly hope not. He gave up on me first.” Which was the truth.
Jeremy pulled the Tupperware out of the microwave and poured it into two bowls. “It’s tomato, is that okay?”
“That’s great, thanks. One of my favourites.”
He set a plate with the bagel and a bowl of tomato soup onto a cookie sheet, setting it on my lap.
“It smells great. Did you make the soup?”
“I did. I make a huge batch and freeze it. Once a week, on Sundays, I take a container to my grandma at the nursing home.”
That was tomorrow. “Is this hers?”
“Don’t worry, I popped another container into the fridge when I ran upstairs. It’ll be thawed in time.”
“Okay, whew. I can’t handle guilt.” All my life I’d been guilted into doing one thing or another, because it was for the benefit of this, or it helped the family if I took on this other role.
“You’re all good. I hate receiving guilt trips, so I’m sure as day not going to give them out.” He set a mug of tea on the bedside table and then walked his midnight snack over to the little table by his chair. “So, you and the ER doctor were an item, eh?”
“We were, but apparently he says I’m not the kind of person someone wants to spend a long time with. He was just passing the time with me.” I shrugged.
“He said that?”
“He did, but in the end, I guess it’s okay. I do appreciate the honesty.”
“There’s honesty and there’s tact.” He dug into the soup and followed it with a bite of bagel.
I did the same, savouring the rich flavour of the tomato soup and melting into the comfort of it all. “This is good. Real good.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you are enjoying it.”
The food was so tasty, we dined in silence. Afterward, Jeremy insisted I stay in bed while he cleaned the kitchen. Yawns came hard and fast, and I found myself slipping further under the blanket. Dimming the under the cabinet lighting, he left the bathroom light on.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired, but grateful. Thank you for being here tonight. I appreciate it and you.”
“My pleasure.”
Suddenly, my eyes felt heavy and my blinks were getting longer, as were the pauses between his words.
“Get some sleep. I’ll just be over there”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure if I’d actually have a solid sleep or not, but right now I wasn’t going to fight Mr. Sandman. He was sprinkling his magic dust like raindrops.
Jeremy flopped down into the chair and opened his crossword app. “Tobias character in Divergent. Two words. Nine letters.”