too…water running at the sink. The refrigerator door opening and closing.
That would be Seely, clearing up after breakfast. She’d brought me eggs and toast in bed.
Damned if I know why people consider breakfast in bed a treat. Even with a bed you can crank to a sitting position, it’s a pain. Besides, I’d had enough of beds. I wanted to shave. I wanted a shower and real clothes, not wrinkled pajamas. I needed to talk to Manny, and my loving family had persuaded Seely not to leave the phone by my bed.
First things first. I stood slowly, having learned that I got dizzy if I tried to move too fast. It was nice, I decided, to hear a woman puttering around in the kitchen. I wondered how much of a squawk Seely would make when I joined her there. A grin tugged at my mouth.
Funny. I was in a pretty good mood, considering I’d smashed my truck and put some major dents in several body parts. But it was good to be home…good to have survived to come home.
I started across the room. Contrary to my family’s fondly held opinion, I know my limits. I’d lost a lot of blood, which meant I was going to be weak, sometimes dizzy. Combine that with a knee not inclined to take much weight, a shoulder that kept me from using crutches and a body that was stiff and sore everywhere but my left big toe, and falling was a real possibility. Especially with that fool puppy running circles around my feet.
I took it slow and careful. I wanted to make a point. I also wanted coffee and conversation, maybe some answers. I limped into the dining room, frowning.
In any contest between memory and logic, logic ought to win. Women don’t glow. I knew that. I’d been in bad shape when Seely found me, my perceptions skewed by a system on the verge of shutting down. I couldn’t trust my memory.
Yet that one memory bead remained so clear…the curves of her face as she smiled at me, the tilt of her eyes, the way her breath had puffed out, ghostly in the cold air. And the gentle luminescence of her skin, like moonlight on snow. Not at all like a flashlight. Just as clearly I remember the warmth, a heat that had sunk itself into me instead of sitting around on the surface.
I had questions, and I couldn’t let them go.
I managed to avoid tripping over Doofus as I left the bathroom, but had to pause in the doorway to the kitchen, one hand on the jamb to steady myself. The sling supported my shoulder, so it wasn’t hurting too much. Unlike my knee.
Seely was wiping down the counter, humming along with the radio. She wore jeans and a blue sweater today, and her denim-clad hips were swaying to the music in a cute little be-bop that yanked my attention away from my sore knee.
Then I noticed what was playing on the radio: Kenny Chesney singing “How forever feels.” The song Gwen and I had danced to five years ago, on the night we’d ended up in bed together.
The night before I left her.
All the fizz drained out of the day. I took a deep breath and limped on into the room. Doofus yelped happily, announcing our arrival.
Seely spun around, her eyes wide. “How do you do that?”
“What?” Doofus had found his water dish and was thrilled by the discovery, lapping away as if he’d been in the desert for days. I’d have to put him out soon. Or ask Seely to, dammit. I didn’t like depending on others for every little thing.
“Sneak up on me when you can barely walk,” she said.
“No shoes.” I decided to rest a bit before making for the oak table in the center of the room. “I came out for a cup of coffee.”
“I would have brought you coffee. That’s what that little bell by your bed is for.”
“I didn’t want to drink it in bed. Besides, I thought it would help if you could see that I’m able to move around some now.”
“Help what?”
“I don’t want to sleep all day today.”
One of her eyebrows lifted. The woman had the most talkative eyebrows I’d ever seen. “Okay. You thought I needed to be notified of this?”
Yesterday I’d dozed off every time she checked on me. That had to be coincidence…didn’t it? “We have a deal. I do what you say, within reason. I wanted to show you that it wouldn’t be reasonable to keep me in bed all day.”
Her mouth kicked up on one side. “Well, since you’re already here, you may as well sit down and have that coffee. No, wait—I’d rather you didn’t go splat on the floor. Let me get on your good side first.”
I didn’t have much choice. She reached me before I’d taken more than a couple of halting steps and slid an arm around my waist. The warm strength of her body felt good. “How can you move so fast without seeming to hurry?”
“Long legs. It helps when my target is crippled and can’t escape.”
My mouth twitched. The top of her head was only a few inches below mine. If I’d turned my head, it would have tickled my nose. Her hair smelled nice—a green smell, like herbs.
We made for the table at a half lurch, and I had to admit it was easier with her help. More pleasant, too. My body started entertaining ideas I could have sworn it wasn’t ready to consider yet. I sure couldn’t do anything about those ideas, even if I’d been free to.
Which I wasn’t. She was an employee, off-limits.
We reached the table. I spoke abruptly. “The first time I saw you, you were glowing.”
“Amazing the sort of thing a mind in shock can conjure, isn’t it?”
“Is that what it was?”
She let me go as I lowered myself carefully into a chair, then looked me square in the eye. Her eyebrows were expressing skepticism. “I don’t know. Do you often see people glow when you aren’t in shock?”
“Hardly ever.” Common wisdom holds that people won’t look you in the eye if they’re lying. This is stupid. Since everyone knows this, someone who intends to lie to you will be sure to meet your eyes. I guess people who expect liars to look shifty haven’t been around teenagers much. “That E.R. doctor was sure baffled by my shoulder.”
She laughed and headed for the coffeepot. “The one you kept calling an idiot?”
“Yeah. Harry Meckle. I knew him in school.” Was she dodging the subject? Or was I being given a chance to avoid looking like a fool? I drummed my fingers on the table. “I want you to tell Gwen it’s okay for Zach to come over after school today.”
“Uh-uh.” She set a steaming mug in front of me. The multicolored stones in her bracelet glittered.
“Do you wear that all the time?”
“Hmm? Oh.” She sat down, keeping another mug for herself. “The bracelet. Yes, pretty much.”
“So why won’t you talk to Gwen for me?”
“I never step between dueling exes.”
“Gwen and I aren’t dueling. We aren’t even exes. We were never married.” I held myself ready for the questions that were sure to come. People were invariably nosy about me, Gwen, Zach and Duncan.
Seely shrugged. “So? You’re obviously ex-somethings.”
I’d never thought of it that way. For some reason the notion settled me, as if some little wandering piece had finally found its spot. I took a sip of coffee. “This is good.”
“Thanks.”
“The thing is, Zach has had enough uncertainty in his life. I think it will be good for him to see that, yeah, I’m banged up but I’m basically okay.”
“I won’t argue with that, but can’t you just tell Gwen yourself?”
I grimaced. “My family has some funny ideas. They think I don’t know my own limitations.”