Page 71 of Pippin & Nacho

“Can we talk?”

I nodded and reluctantly left Nate’s side and shut his door behind me.

“Listen, Pip… It’s your job now to take care of Nate.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Of course, I understood that. Nate needed help. He needed me. I could do that.

“I’m going to run and get you all some groceries and pick up Nacho’s meds from the pharmacy. But after I’m gone, you’re going to have to take up the slack. He needs to stay in bed. If he gets up, he has to take it slow. No TV. No phones, at least for the next few days, then ease into the screen time. He’s going to be bored, so maybe you can read to him, or you two can play cards or something not overly stimulating…”

Did we have cards? I could buy some if we didn’t. Where did they sell cards? I’d have to look around the apartment first, not wanting to spend unnecessary money. Plus, I didn’t want to leave Nate’s side for so long. Did I even know any card games? I bet Nate did. I wasn’t sure we even played cards before. Were there other games we could play? I sucked at games and always had been. I never remembered the rules. Maybe as a kid, I liked them, but I couldn’t remember.

“Pippin?”

“What?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Uhm, you want us to play cards.”

Alpha smiled patiently, but I knew I said something wrong. I missed what he’d said. Shit, how could I make sure Nate was okay if I didn’t listen?

“Yes, cards are fine, but Nacho needs his medicine. The instructions will be on the pill bottles. He has a pain reliever for his broken leg and wrist sprain, but he’s going to have headaches. I’m going to grab some over-the-counter migraine meds.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll write everything down.”

“Sure.”

“And you need to make sure you both are fed. Nothing heavy. He also needs plenty of water.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll be back in about an hour with some food and his meds. And after I leave, you can call any of us if you need help, okay?”

“I will.”

When Alpha walked away, a knot formed in my stomach. Could I remember all that? I wasn’t a caregiver. That was all Nate. He did everything. Almost everything. While he was gone at the hospital or work, sometimes I’d even forget to eat. But I had to do this for Nate.

As he slept, I sat at the kitchen table with a pen and my notebook and jotted down all that I needed to remember from what Alpha had said. Afterward, I made little sticky notes. When he returned, I’d ask him if I got everything right in my notes.

I had to do this. Nate needed me.

In the first week, Nate slept a lot and would wake up only to eat or go to the bathroom. The dizziness and headaches hit him a lot, so remembering to give him his meds wasn’t hard. By the second week, he was up and about more, and we eased him into watching some TV if his head wasn’t hurting too much.

Getting him in the shower had been difficult with his broken leg, sprained wrist, and head issues, so it’d been easier for me to shower with him. I had no idea I could cover up his cast, but he did. He knew everything. He remembered everything, but I think I did pretty good helping him.

I ended up loving to wash his hair, running my fingers along his scalp, careful of the swelling still present on the back of his head. There was hair missing there from when the hospital staff shaved it, but it was growing back.

When I got him dry and in bed, he’d smell like his familiar lime, coconut, and all things Nate. I would lay next to him and inhale him all night.

I slept very little, keeping a close eye on him to make sure I didn’t miss anything. My thoughts were all over the place and disorganized, but if I lay next to him and curled my fingers in his hair, I focused a little better.

We’d just finished dinner, and Nate fell asleep again. I lay in bed next to him, gently dragging my fingers across his forehead and through his curls. They were getting long. He needed a haircut, but I liked them. Nate hated them in his face all the time, but he kept some length for me and my need to be soothed. Maybe when he felt better, I would take him to the barber.

I loved his lashes. They were thick, fanning out on his face. His eyes fluttered from a dream, and his full lips were slightly parted. He was so beautiful, at least to me—as perfect as a star should be.

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