121. Poles on Magnets
POLES ON MAGNETS
LIVY
Sounds reach my ears, and I wake again, disoriented and wondering where I am. The sun isn’t in the right spot, the smells are all wrong, and Kyle is whimpering at the door.
“Give me a second, baby.”
I hobble to the bathroom and do my business, wash my face, and brush my teeth.
I toss on a bra and grab my crutches to take Kyle out.
Kimp stands in the hall outside Layton’s bedroom. His face registers guilt when I catch him.
“Good morning, Mr.— I mean, Kimp. How are you?”
“Good morning, Livy.” He looks between me and his son’s door. “Luna wanted in. This is her morning routine lately.” Kyle trots to Layton’s dad and places his head under Kimp’s hand.
“No explanation needed. That must be what Kyle heard. I think he may need to go out.” I’m babbling and need to stop.
“Well, come on, big fella. Need to go outside?”
Kyle lopes alongside Kimp at his invitation as I crutch behind.
Kimp is back in his kitchen by the time I make it there. “He’s outside exploring. How long have you had him?”
“Almost two years. He stole my heart, and I was powerless to stop it.”
“He’s a looker, that’s for sure. How do you take your coffee?”
“I don’t. I’m a tea drinker.”
Kimp turns incredulous eyes on me. “I think we have iced tea bags. We’ll figure something out for tomorrow. What do you drink?”
“Mostly green tea. Sometimes English breakfast. I’m good for now, though. Summer is the easiest time to skip it.”
A woof sounds at the door at the same time a scratch registers there. I stand, but Kimp pats my shoulder as he passes me. “I’ve got him. How’s your leg feeling this morning?”
Kyle bounds in, and Kimp takes a seat at the table next to me, pulling a chair out for me to prop up my bad leg.
“It’s sore, and the stitches pinch. I want to numb it and scratch them out at the same time.”
“Emilia, my wife, had our first three children naturally. Layton was breech and never turned. He’s been stubborn from the start.
” He looks longingly down the hallway. “She had a cesarean with him. I always credit that with how close they were. But, all that to say, she felt the same with that incision. It throbbed and itched, and the stitches tugged with each movement. She couldn’t wait for it to heal. ”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I place my hand on the table between us, trying to offer a connection.
“Layton told you?”
“No, sir. I saw a picture of your family from probably twenty years ago online. I recognized her name as the password to get into the hospital and Googled her when I didn’t see her mentioned with the land development case earlier this year. I found her obituary.”
“Interesting.”
“It sounds like I stalked your family. That’s not the case. Braxton had made me an offer, and I knew too little to make a smart decision. A single woman being asked to move across the country can’t do too much research.”
“I can only imagine all you saw online. What made you think this was an acceptable risk?”
“Your son.”
Kimp’s head lifts, and his gaze holds mine.
“He stood up and did the right thing by me. On two different occasions, he did the hard thing when it wasn’t convenient, but because it was the honorable thing to do. In my estimation, that’s a rarity. And I had—I have—the opportunity to do the same. I hope he lets me.”
Kimp takes a long drink of his coffee. “I may be speaking out of school, but Layton has struggled since Emilia died. The accident was horrific, but it was the second setback, not the first. The wreck, though, it took away the way he coped with losing her. I don’t mean this all woo woo, but he’s going to have to deal with both since they go hand in hand for him. ”
“Thank you for trusting me with that.”
He stands and moves to his refrigerator. “I heard you’re vegan. We didn’t plan for that and we didn’t plan for tea. I have some fruit, and you can raid the pantry for whatever you can eat. We’ll figure things out today so you have what you need for as long as you stay here.”
It doesn’t take much to see Layton is Kimpton’s Mini-Me. It’s just that neither recognizes it. They are poles on magnets that push back on each other instead of being drawn together.
I was right yesterday. It’s about being too close to that fact, not missing the truth altogether.
Layton
I wake to warmth at my stomach. I’m spooning Luna who knows better than to be on the bed, but is here nonetheless. I’ll never admit that I coaxed her up here to make it easier to pet her. Brighton wouldn’t appreciate it, but I certainly do, so here we are.
I stroke her fur, glomming on to her relaxed, easy breathing.
“Looney, you’re the best girl ever. You know that?”
The calm she provides me is something I don’t take for granted. My head is a mess. My body is a wreck. My emotions can be tumultuous. But Luna offers me her serenity daily.
Sola gives me joy; Luna gives me peace.
It’s early, and I don’t want to get up yet. But for the first time in a long time, I feel excitement in my belly.
My body, on the other hand, is worse off for yesterday’s exertion. I feel like full-contact two-a-days in high school when my body hadn’t built enough bulk to insulate the hits.
I take a pill from the nightstand so I can participate in life today. Without it, I’d be bedridden, and there’s a smart, beautiful woman here who makes me feel ten feet tall. At least when my back hasn’t decided to lock up like Fort Knox.
Thirty minutes later, I amble toward the kitchen to find Pop and Livy having just finished breakfast.
“Well, you’re up early,” Pop says. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” I drop into a chair near Livy and pop a leftover piece of melon from her plate into my mouth.
“Livy drinks tea,” he continues, apropos of nothing, as he stands and pours me a mug.
“Okay.”
“We don’t have tea.”
“It’s not a big deal,” the tea drinker beside me replies.
“It is.” Pop sets the steaming cup in front of me.
I pull out my phone. “What do you like?”
“Green is my favorite. I also drink spearmint and English breakfast. But it’s not a thing. I can hit the grocery store later.”
“Which brand?”
She tells me, and I find it in my app. “Done. It’ll be here by dinnertime.”
“Thank you, Layton.” Her voice is demure and so alluring. I don’t think she’s trying to be sexy. She just is sexy. “Can we go see the colt today?”
“How’s your leg?”
“I don’t want to saw it off, if that’s what you’re asking. But it’s still throbbing. It’s healing if that itching is anything to go by. And if your sister is around, I’d like her to take a peek at Kyle’s wound.”
Me: Can you check Kyle’s wound today? He’s definitely done more than rest in the last twenty-four hours.
Bright: Sure thing. I’m at the stable. Want me to come your way?
Me: When you can. That would be great. Thanks.
“She’ll be here in a few.”
Pop’s gaze levels on me as Livy turns her freckled face my way. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
I rub a hand from her neck to below where her sports bra stops and move back to take a sip of my coffee.
“I’m going to head down to the barn and check on things. See y’all down there?” Pop clears his and Livy’s plates and sets them in the sink before refilling his coffee.
“Do you mind asking Bright to bring the Gator this way?” Livy asks.
“I’d be happy to.” Pop whistles at the front door. “Luna? Let’s go. Strait misses you.”
The lab bounds from my room, tail aloft and wagging, and pads out the front door with Pop behind her.
“How’d you sleep?” Livy’s voice is quiet. She turns her face to mine, and it takes no time for me to drop my mouth to hers.
Her fingers sift through my beard.
I speak where we are connected. “Not great. There’s a beautiful woman under the same roof. It’s distracting.”
She closes her eyes, breaking the connection, and shakes her head. “Layton.”
I pull back, stand, and walk to the pantry. I’m killing time. I’m not actually hungry.
“You won’t look at me?”
“Why should I?” I throw back.
“To show me some respect in this conversation.”
Damn it.
I say nothing. The silence is broken by my sister barging her way in, saving my ass from the awkwardness.
“Morning, Lay.” She stops dead at the silence.
“Morning, Livy.” She folds onto the floor in the kitchen near the table.
“Good morning, Kyle. You didn’t come to the barn with Pop this morning.
Are you tuckered out or are you sore?” She strokes the big dog down his side as I come back into the room.
“I’m letting him adjust to my touch. I don’t want him to feel—” The rest of her sentence is rendered moot when he rolls to his back, exposing his chest and belly, and stretches his paws out one hundred and eighty degrees. “So you do yoga too?”
Bright peels the bandage back while rubbing his belly with her other hand.
“What the fuck?” my sister says. It’s exactly what I was thinking.
A red incision mark runs at least six inches long, making a jagged curve near Kyle’s shoulder. Black stitches run the length. The skin around them looks inflamed.
“Looks like your hip did,” Brighton says over her shoulder to me. “Though, I bet this one was an easier fix.” To Livy, she adds, “Top-notch stitches. None have opened. No puss. That’s all good. There’s some redness, though, which could indicate infection. Did they give him an antibiotic?”
“They gave him a shot of something, but no pills.”
“Hmmm. Are you okay if I call and ask what? I can fill something if it’s not contraindicated.”
“His vet is at Arabel Veterinary Clinic. I have their number in my phone, but it’s in my room.”
“I’ve got it.” Bright thumbs through her phone.
“Google maps for the win.” She strokes Kyle and talks to him until she abruptly stops.
“Hi, Ellen. This is Dr. Brighton Ranger. Kyle Morgan is visiting us in Texas and seems to present with infection. I know he is under your care. Can you tell me what antibiotic he was given and if you’re comfortable with me ordering anything with his history? Sure. Happy to hold.”
“You’re being awfully nice today,” I offer.
“Kyle’s a good boy. I’m not overriding his care.
If he were an Arabian instead of a Dane, I’d assume more.
” She pauses. “Perfect. Thank you.” Another pause where her eyes lift to the woman sitting at the table.
“And what weight did you have for him? And that was when? Got it. Thank you. We’ll keep him well until he can get back to you. ” She pauses. “Thank you. You too.”
My sister sets down her phone and looks up at Livy. “Were you discharged the same day as Kyle?”
Livy nods.
“Kyle’s not going to like being forced to rest, but that wasn’t minor surgery. And you’re in the same boat, aren’t you?”
Livy’s eyes trip to mine before returning to my sister. “Yes.”
“Doctor’s orders… Kyle needs at least seventy-two more hours of real rest. Not running and playing.” My sister’s voice changes from large and in charge to a manner I’ve rarely seen. “What do you need? You can’t be Wonder Woman this soon after surgery. Did you even fill your prescriptions?”
Livy shakes her head, a tear forming in her bad eye.
Bright extends a hand over Kyle and sets it on Livy’s knee.
“Not that I like having experience in this area. I don’t.
But, unfortunately, I do. Have experience, that is.
And if you’re willing to trust me, I’m begging you to let us help.
I can get what Kyle needs. If you’ll call Walgreens here and tell them to transfer your prescriptions, I’ll go grab those too.
Don’t make me revoke your Gator privileges. ”
That last line sounds like the Brighton I know and love.
Livy smiles through a lone tear drop falling.
My sister lifts off the floor after folding Kyle’s bandage back as much as possible. “I’ll be back. It’ll take me less than two hours. Sit tight, please?”
To me, Brighton says, “Grab Livy an ice pack, would you? Get her set up on the sofa. That right leg needs to be elevated and iced.”
“What am I missing?”