23. Reed
reed
I’m not sure I slept better than I did the last time I stayed at Rose’s place. I even got to sleep in a real bed this time, but it didn’t make much difference. I was too tuned into her, listening in case she needed me in the night. She slept fitfully, and I did, too.
No regrets.
I called Troy first thing to let him know Rose won’t be coming in today and that I’ll be late. It’s probably overkill to stay any longer—it’s just the flu or maybe a bad cold. But she needs me. So leaving before I know she’ll be okay today isn’t an option.
I peek in on her. Still sleeping. But judging from the leg she’s thrown on top of the sheet and how flushed her skin is, she’s still feverish, too. She’ll need more Tylenol soon, but at least she’s resting well now.
Across the hall, I make the bed in the room I slept in.
It’s decorated in a similar style to the living room: a western aesthetic with metal decor that looks like a tetanus hazard.
The closet is mostly empty, just like the dresser drawers.
Yes, I snooped. This room is bigger than Rose’s, with an ensuite.
It’s obvious this is the primary bedroom, but she’s living in the second bedroom as though her parents might return to stay at any time.
The third, smallest bedroom is set up like an office.
No colorful knick knacks or pastel romance books like in Rose’s bedroom, and none of the half-completed crafts she’s got lying around.
Just two desks, a file cabinet, and shelves full of medical books.
I’m no mind reader, but I’m guessing Rose doesn’t use this space, either.
It’s not right. She shouldn’t be living like a guest in her own house, unable to change anything for fear her parents won’t like it.
If I give much thought to their advice on how she needs to change herself, I’ll see red.
As much as I want to sit her down and get her to listen to reason, it’s not my place to tell her how messed up this situation is.
Also messed up? The way the cat watches me from a distance. He hasn’t approached me yet, but he’s showed himself. Then he just stares. Like a ghoul. I never knew cats were such weird little guys.
Downstairs, I poke around in the kitchen, looking for breakfast options for when Rose gets up. I find the cat food and give him a scoop, too. For lack of anything better to do, I pull out my phone and read through my texts from last night.
Jovie: Tell Rose I hope she gets better soon!!!!
Jovie: If you have to give her medicine, get her the bubblegum kind
Jovie: Grape flavor is gross
Reed: Thanks, nugget
Mom messaged, too. I might not be checking the group chat thread, but it must be going strong without me.
Mom: Jovie told us Rose is sick
Mom: Can we bring anything by?
Mom: I assume you’re with her
She was blatantly poking around for information, probably with her fingers crossed, but I answered anyway.
Reed: I am. I think we’re good for now
Reed: She’s sleeping
Mom: Let me know if I can bring her anything tomorrow
Mom: Send her our love
I stare at that last word. Love. Rose spends one evening with my family, and she’s already a part of it, buckled in tight and ready to roll. I don’t know how I thought anything else might happen. It’s Rose. Falling for her is inevitable.
Then, because I’m a masochist, I pull up the video of Rose and me. I don’t have the app, but you don’t have to if you know what to search for. Or try searching fifty different phrases until you find the right one.
I’ve wasted too much time staring at this miniature version of her the same way the mini-me is doing.
A sound on the stairs breaks the spell. Leaving my phone, I hurry into the living room in time to meet Rose, who’s gripping the banister at the bottom of the stairs. I force my eyes to skate over her barely-there pajama set and focus on her face.
Not all heroes wear capes.
“I would have helped you.” Not my best work as far as good morning greetings go.
Her smile is weak but real. “I’m feeling a little better.”
Her color’s still high, but her eyes aren’t as glassy. I gently press my palm to her forehead, appreciating the way she closes her eyes and leans into my touch.
“You still feel warm. Are you hungry?”
She nods. “But I don’t want to stand anymore.”
I scoop her into my arms and carry her into the dining room. It’s selfish, and maybe my Neanderthal side is showing, but holding her is addictive. Now that I’ve done it once, I’m ready to carry her everywhere.
She pats my chest with a little laugh. “This isn’t what I meant.”
“Seemed the best solution to me.” I guide her onto a chair. “What can I make for you?”
Her mouth drops open automatically, but her gaze finds mine. She closes her mouth and seems to consider. “How about oatmeal?”
“Good.” I turn around to look for the oats in the pantry.
“With strawberries,” she adds. “And the vanilla honey.”
I smile to myself. “Perfect.”
“I should probably call in sick today,” she says while I cook the instant oats on the stove. Her teasing’s a good sign, even if her sarcasm is weak.
“Probably smart.”
“Think my boss will be okay with it?”
“Your boss wants you to take as much time as you need.” Reminding myself she’s my employee has snakes twisting in my gut. One of the reasons I told myself I couldn’t be with her, and I ignored it the minute the opportunity came up.
I never wanted to be anybody’s boss in the first place, let alone have that kind of power over someone I’m dating. Perk Me Up is arguably a casual small business, but that doesn’t mean things couldn’t get complicated. Of course it could—everything in there has been.
Harry, what the hell were you thinking?
I dish up a bowl of oatmeal for her and add sliced strawberries. Oatmeal’s not my first choice, but I serve myself some, too, and take the seat across from her.
“Was Jovie upset about canceling game night?” She drizzles a golden thread of honey over her oatmeal. “I forgot to ask last night.”
“You weren’t yourself.” And yes, I loved every time she said something she didn’t mean to. I want all the glimpses into what’s going on in her head. “She understands. Said it gives her more time to plan the perfect night.”
Rose’s soft smile crawls between my ribs and gets cozy. “She’s amazing. It’s sweet how close you are. You’re a good uncle.”
“She’s a fun kid. But don’t be deceived—she will destroy you at game night if she can.”
“Maybe it’s good I’m resting up now.”
When we’re done eating, I rinse the bowls and put them in the dishwasher. Relishing my role as overprotective nurse, I help Rose onto the couch and grab her a blanket and pillow from upstairs.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” She’s more alert than she was last night and her fever’s mild, but I still hate to leave her alone. I hate to leave her, period.
She gestures at the TV. “I’m going to sleep through sappy movies all day.”
Trying not to think about all the things she might need while I’m gone, I put a glass of water and the Tylenol on the coffee table. She looks like she needs another pillow, so I bring a second one downstairs and help her get situated on the abysmal couch.
Seriously, this thing needs to go. But considering the furniture situation in my cabin, I’d be chucking stones at glass houses if I criticized.
“Can I bring you dinner tonight?” I tuck the blanket around her and put the TV remote next to her.
“You already made soup.”
“You need a variety of foods to build your strength back up.”
“I’ve never heard that.” She aims what’s probably supposed to be a glare at me but can’t make it land. “Potstickers sound good. And lo mein.”
“Now you’re talking.” I’m ready to fulfill every last one of her wishes. All she has to do is ask. “You’ll call me if you need me?”
Her frown is adorable. “You’re extra bossy today.”
“I’m in nurse mode.”
She settles deeper into the pillows, already looking like she might fall asleep. “I like you in nurse mode.”
I lean down and kiss her forehead. She closes her eyes, her mouth gently tilting into a smile.
“Rest up, firefly.”
I’ve checked my phone more times this afternoon than I have since I bought it four years ago. I’ve got it in my back pocket in case it vibrates, but I still take it out and check the screen like I expect Rose to send an SOS any minute. She’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself.
It just turns out I like taking care of her, too.
I try to be patient but ultimately break.
Reed: How are you doing?
Rose: Harry just met Sally
Rose: And I had leftover soup for lunch
Rose: Thank you
Rose: I might get wild and take a shower later
I gaze up at the exposed industrial ceiling, willing myself not to picture Rose in the shower. She’s ill. She needs rest.
She might need help washing her back.
Reed: Don’t go too crazy
Rose: Might brush my teeth
Reed: You’re a madwoman
Rose: Are you going by a grocery store on your way over?
Reed: I’ll go by any grocery store you want
Rose: Sprite sounds really good right now
Reed: Then you’ll get it
Rose: Best nurse ever
Fran walks in, and I hastily put my phone away. From the arch look on her face as she glances around, she caught me smiling over Rose’s messages. The chairs in the coffee shop are empty, the day sliding toward closing time.
“Where is your sweetheart today?”
And people say I’m blunt.
“Rose is off this afternoon.” I can’t decide if giving her more info would help or hurt. Best to keep things short and sweet.
Luke walks in behind her. Fran spins to face him, blatantly looking him up and down. Her boldness exhausts me, but I have to respect it. She does and says exactly what she wants.
“Two Bridger men for the price of one. Is it my lucky day?”
“Good to see you, Fran.” Luke, at least, can be polite.
She gazes up at him with a light of appreciation in her eyes. “Has my new friend Cassie been by the hardware store yet? She has some DIY projects around her house, so Nora and I sent her your way.”