Chapter 11
Ferries looked like toys from his apartment’s windows. But even with the blue skies and busyness outside he felt tired. Being stuck at home was fast getting old. And he’d thought staying in the hospital was boring.
Yesterday he watched his church’s online service, and felt his spirits lift a little. But today he’d felt flat all day. Flat, but also kind of itchy. After Saturday’s amazing conversation with Gen, which honestly had felt like an answer to prayer, he’d been left wondering how she was doing.
He didn’t want to text her a hundred times each day.
Well, he kinda did, but knew that wasn’t wise, as it would probably only scare her off.
So he’d have to be patient, which really wasn’t his preferred mode.
Which left him stuck in his apartment, watching TV, doing what pathetic exercises his team doc and trainers had deemed as suitable.
At least he had the trip on Wednesday to look forward to, but even that felt too far away.
His thumb was trigger-happy, so he finally succumbed and texted her.
Hey, there. Thinking about you. How are you?
He shouldn’t have been surprised when she didn’t answer.
She was at work, no doubt saving lives again.
Honestly, she was like Wonder Woman. And not just because she saved lives.
Or because when they were seventeen she’d once dressed in white boots and a sparkling costume for Halloween and he still recalled how good she’d looked.
No, she was a woman and she made him wonder.
What did she really think of him?
Did she really want to be friends, or had he kind of pushed her into it?
Would she want to have dinner with him sooner than the weekend after next? She’d said she was busy, but you never know…
He didn’t want to push. He really didn’t. Except he knew that one little conversation wasn’t enough. Not after ten years of wondering.
So he sent another message.
Hey, if you’re free for a non-coffee, or need any kind of meal at all, I’m available. Really happy to feed you. Or meet you somewhere. Anytime. Anywhere. It’s only been a couple of days and I miss you.
Did that make him sound desperate? Probably. Did he care? No.
Far better that she knew his feelings, that he was straightforward as she always was, even if it made him sound weak.
He cleaned up a bit, accepted a grocery delivery he’d ordered online, and figured he’d make pasta for dinner. He was halfway through making his beef ragu when his phone screen lit with a message.
Just finished my shift. Really tired.
He turned the pot down to low.
Happy to feed you if that helps.
Don’t think I’m much company.
I don’t mind. Seeing you is pleasure enough.
Not sure that’d be true. I’m a mess.
Please?
Her reply took a while to arrive, so he prayed for her.
The fact she hadn’t given him an outright no had to mean that she must want to see him too. Even if only a little bit. Honest Gen would just tell him outright if she didn’t want to see him.
Fine. But I can only meet for an hour or so. I need to sleep before my shift tomorrow.
I’ll take it. Want to meet at the café again or come to my place?
Where are you?
He shared the location, partway between Belltown and Pike Place.
I’ll meet you out the front. Just let me know when you’re on your way.
On my way.
He smiled. The hospital was less than twenty minutes away, which meant he should finish this meal and turn off the stove. Ten minutes later he was exiting the elevator, anticipation riding high at the thought of seeing her again.
He paced outside the building, then saw her walking down the sidewalk. It was hard not to run toward her, and sweep her up in a hug. Especially when she looked so weary and like she could do with one.
“Hey you.”
She glanced up, eyes widening. “Kyle.”
“Gen.”
Her lips tweaked. “I still don’t know why I’m here.”
“Because I’m your patient?”
“No, you’re not.”
“Because I’m your friend?”
“Hmm.”
His heart tipped with uncertainty. “You don’t think we are?”
“Fine.” She yawned. “Sorry. It’s been a big day.”
He hesitated. “Look, I know you’re tired, so if you’d really rather not be here, I understand.”
“You say that now after practically begging me to come so I’ve already gone out of my way?”
Put like that it sounded bad. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Maybe. If you insist.”
Oh, he’d insist. The homeless population at night made that a one hundred percent certainty.
He escorted her inside, caught her wide eyes as she looked at the artwork gracing the lobby. Yeah, it was “A little ostentatious, but the place has good security”.
“I suppose you’re a celebrity who needs it, huh?”
“You’re right. Such a celebrity.” He rolled his eyes. “But it is close to the arena, so it’s handy for work.” Even if road busyness was sometimes a challenge to get to the practice arena.
He nodded to another owner-occupier, and took Gen to the lift, punched in his floor.
He peeked at her. She did seem tired. Lines etched at her eyes and she was hunched over in her hoodie. She was a little curvier than he remembered, but the years had changed them all. She still looked gorgeous to him.
The elevator dinged, and he swept open his arm. “After you, mademoiselle.”
She side-eyed him but obeyed nonetheless, and he followed her out, wondering about the wisdom of this. Maybe she was too tired to really talk. They’d barely spoken since her arrival.
He brushed past her to open his door, waving her inside. “Thanks for coming.”
She nodded. “You promised food, so I hope you meant it.”
“Of course I did. I say what I mean, remember?”
Her lips curved a quarter way, like she was too tired to smile properly.
But that had always been their way. Honest talk. No filters. No beating around the bush.
Sure enough, her steps led her straight to the glorious view. “Wow.”
“The view is what sold me on the place,” he confessed.
“I bet you can see to Canada.”
“I’ve tried,” he admitted. “I’ve got a telescope you can use if you like.”
He showed her how to adjust things, and enjoyed the reason for their nearness.
She peered but then shook her head. “I’m not sure what I’m seeing but I don’t think it’s a city.”
“I did have it trained on Bainbridge Island, which you can see on a really clear day.”
“I’ll believe you.”
“Hey, it’s true.”
She nodded, her small smile saying she didn’t believe him. “Something smells good.”
“I cooked pasta. Is that okay?”
“Hey, you cooked. That in itself is impressive.”
“Wait until you taste it. Then you’ll really be impressed.”
She chuckled, which released another yawn. “Sorry. Do you mind if I sit down? I’ve been on my feet all day.”
“Sure.”
Oh. He’d thought she’d use the bar stool in the kitchen so they could talk. He didn’t think she’d mean sit on the sofa. Still, he liked the fact she was comfortable enough to make this place her own. “Can I get you a drink?”
She glanced up at him. “Um, a glass of water is fine. This is a really comfy couch.”
“Right? I might’ve fallen asleep there a time or two. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Oh, don’t let me fall asleep. I hate falling asleep in front of others.”
He nodded. “I remember. You always disliked that.” She’d always said that made her feel vulnerable.
Her eyes met his and held, and again he felt that sense of connection. She was remembering their past, he could tell. The time she’d woken to find him there…
“Let me get you that water,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He asked about her day, and she told him some of what she’d had to do. No names, of course, but it sounded hard, and physically trying. No wonder she was exhausted.
“I’m glad you could come and didn’t have to go back to care for your family member,” he said, fishing for information.
“Yeah. She’s staying somewhere else tonight.” She yawned.
He smiled to himself, turned up the heat on the pasta sauce. It might not prove to be the night for the conversation they needed to have, but he’d make the most of every second.
He boiled the pasta, made a quick salad, and heated the garlic bread in the oven. Set the rarely-used dining table, even lit a candle. Then eyed it critically. There. That didn’t look too romancey, did it? He wanted it to look nice, not like he was out to seduce her.
“Dinner’s ready,” he called.
But when he returned, it was to see she had slumped on the couch, and was fast asleep. Huh. He knelt beside her. “Gen?”
No response. He rubbed her arm. “Gen, honey?”
Still nothing.
Well, this was awesome. Still, she’d warned him. And she obviously needed her rest.
He grabbed the blanket-throw thing his mom had given him a few years ago that she thought he needed to—in her words—“spruce up the place.” Then drew up Gen’s feet so she was lying on her side, gently removed her sneakers, and tucked the throw around her.
Part of him knew she would be a lot more comfortable lying in his bed.
But that was someplace he would not go. He didn’t even lift her, knowing even that was fraught with danger.
He returned to the kitchen and turned off the stove and the oven. She might wake up in a few minutes, or she might take hours. Regardless, he’d be here for her. Waiting for her. Just as he had these past ten years.
* * *
She woke to the aroma of garlic and onion. Blinked. Where was she?
Shadows stretched across the floor, while a strip of pink light stole past a heavy curtain. She didn’t recognize this place. Where—?
Oh! Kyle’s place. Oh no!
She pushed upright, her head fuzzy, before weariness quickly dragged her back down. Just a few more minutes of rest. A moment longer of shut-eye, then she’d be fine.
Her stomach rumbled, but her need for sleep was greater. So she closed her eyes.
When next she awoke it was to hear the sound of sizzling. The scent of bacon, too. Was she still at Kyle’s? What time was it?
She felt around for her phone, but it was gone. A quick hunt and she found it had slipped down the crack of the couch, between two cushions, and was out of battery. Oh no. Now she really needed to know what time it was.
“Kyle?”
He appeared a second later. So this wasn’t a dream. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s Tuesday morning.”