Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Ewan
I’m not just a shitty husband. I’m also a shitty dog owner. Pretty sure I forgot to put Pascal in the house when I left for the hospital.
While Maddie is changing in her hospital bathroom, I call Rowdy.
“I got him,” he says, and I blow out a breath.
“Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“No problem. But we’re gonna have a talk soon.”
I understand that tone. Shitty husband, shitty dog owner, and I’ve also been a shitty friend.
I have a lot to make up for.
To my pleasant surprise, Maddie allows me to buckle her into my car when we leave the hospital.
She’s not fighting me as I baby her.
It seems the arguing has gone out of both of us.
Stopping by the Sparrow Family Pharmacy, the tech in the drive-through recognizes me.
“Ewan Hayes, is that you?”
“In the flesh,” I say.
“Wow, I haven’t seen you since well…I guess you didn’t come to the 10-year reunion last year, did you?”
I shake my head.
“No, I guess that would be awkward,” the tech replies.
“Yep,” I say. Much like this conversation is awkward.
“It’s nice to see you. What are you doing in town?”
I tell him I’m picking up my wife’s prescription.
“Oh, are you remarried?” He cranes his neck around, trying to get a glimpse of the passenger.
The passenger makes it easy on him. Next to me, Maddie waves. “Hi there, Wyatt.”
She is unendingly smiling and polite most of the time, even when she is ill.
I’m the only one who gets to see the dark side. And that ain’t a complaint.
“Oh! Well, that’s…something,” Wyatt says.
I clear my throat. “Hey Wyatt, do you think you could grab a couple of bottles of Pedialyte and add those to the bill?”
“Sure thing, buddy, I’ll be right back.”
Maddie digs around her purse, and I ignore her attempts to hand her debit card over to me.
continues to nudge my arm with it when Wyatt returns with the prescription and the requested electrolytes. I hand him my unused health spending account debit card, which I’ve been told will remain active through the end of the year.
Wyatt takes the card and disappears to the register. Maddie hisses, “Ewan, don’t spend your money on me. I have money saved for emergencies like this.”
“You’re on my insurance.”
“What do you mean?”
“Once again, I must remind you that you’re my wife. I for damn sure put you on my insurance when I got a job after my four years on active duty.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re welcome.”
Wyatt runs my purchase through, and finally, we’re on our way home.
Home.
No place has ever felt like home since I left 11 years ago. The closest I came was when I moved into the house across the street last month.
Watching her every day, working up the nerve to talk to her again. Just knowing that she was safe, thriving, and happy made me feel human again.
When we climb the stairs to her front porch, she accepts my offered arm.
I can tell she’s weak, but it still feels good to have her right there next to me.
As we reach the top step, another car pulls up behind mine in the driveway. I look over my shoulder and see that it’s Rowdy’s truck. He opens the cab and the dog runs up to both of us.
“Oh my goodness!” Maddie squeaks.
“Thanks, Rowdy,” I say, leaning down to pet my canine friend.
“He’s the real hero, in case you were wondering,” I say to Maddie.
My wife is all excited now. “He’s adorable!”
I explain, “He’s the one who found you face down on your carpet,” I tell her.
“What a good boy!” Maddie exclaims, reaching down and scratching Pascal behind the ears.
He gives her arm a big doggy lick, and she laughs.
It’s a tired laugh, but it still makes me happy to hear it.
Rowdy heads up the porch stairs ahead of us and holds the door open as I help Maddie over the threshold.
Pascal runs inside like he owns the place.
“I’m okay to walk,” she says. “I’m not going to pass out again.”
“If you do, then I’m here,” I say.
“So, what happened?” Rowdy asks. “Were you gonna tell me that you were still in town?”
“It’s a long story,” I say.
Rowdy closes the door, and we watch Pascal and my wife bond. “I’ll fill you in after I get my wife settled.”
Rowdy watches us through the railing as I carry my wife up to her room. Or what used to be our room.
“That dog ran all the way into town. It’s a good thing I recognized Pascal. What the hell are you doing letting your dog run around loose like that?”
“Sorry, buddy,” I reply. “I lost my head a little bit after I found Maddie unconscious.”
“Dude, what?”
Upstairs, I push open the door to her bedroom with my foot and gently set her down. I turn to face the wall as she drops her jeans and slips her bra off under her shirt.
She says quietly with a laugh, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, Ewan.”
“I know that. And as much as I like to remind you that I’m your husband, I am also a man who recognizes boundaries. We’re not together anymore, and we are also different people.”
She slips under the covers, and I tuck the blankets up to her shoulders.
“We’re not all that different from who we were,” she says sleepily.
She rolls to her side and snuggles into her pillow, the same as she always did when we were young.
“Do you want me to turn on the TV?”
“No,” she whispers.
I turn to leave, and she asks. “How did Rowdy recognize your dog?”
That’s a lot to unpack. “He’s met Pascal before. I’ll explain later. Get some sleep, Maddie.”
She mumbles something but she’s too tired to pry that information out of me.
I head downstairs, and Rowdy hasn’t left. He’s waiting for me in the kitchen and follows me around, asking questions as I gather ingredients to make a healing chicken noodle soup for my wife.
“So, what happened?”
I hand him an onion and the cutting board. “Dice this, and I’ll tell you.”
He grabs a knife, an onion, and a cutting board and starts to work while I fire up the stove and toss in some broth and some leftover rotisserie chicken I find in the fridge. I also find some leftover Chinese takeout with rice noodles and vegetables, and toss it into the broth.
I explain everything, beginning from the moment that Pascal found Maddie lying half in and half out of her house.
The onion, garlic, and some turmeric, for a good measure, go into the soup. Once, in my apartment building in Nashville, my elderly Indian neighbor made me golden milk when I got sick and said turmeric helped kick viruses out of my body. It turns the soup a bright yellow color like marigolds.
“I don’t get it. I thought you were staying up at that cabin in the mountains for a couple of weeks.”
I stir the soup and tell him, “I moved in across the street about a month ago.”
Rowdy scoffs. “You mean right after I told you to leave her alone? That she shouldn’t see you because it would just add more stress to her already stressed-out condition?”
“Yep,” I say, handing him a spoon to stir the soup with while I assemble the food tray. Electrolytes, a sliced apple, a piece of buttered toast, and finally, a generous helping of soup.
“When were you planning to tell me you bought a frickin’ house?” Rowdy asks.
“I was getting around to it,” I say.
He smirks. “The same way you were getting around to filing for divorce after being separated for 10 years?”
“Something like that,” I say.
He follows me to the foot of the stairs. “I’m glad you’re back, brother.”
“I’m glad to be back.”
“Once Maddie’s out of the woods, I want to invite you guys over to my house for a beer. You guys and Foster.”
“I still don’t like that guy,” I say. I’ll do it, though. I don’t like it that he got to Maddie first. I don’t like it that he put his hands on her, but the rational part of my brain knows I should be thanking him. “But I’ll get over it.”
Rowdy nods. “There you go, buddy. That’s what I call growth.”
He gives me a half-assed salute and heads out the door.
Upstairs, Pascal is curled up on the bed, with his head resting on Maddie’s feet.
I walk over and give him a pet. “Good boy.”
I resolve to cook him a giant burger while Maddie sleeps.