Page 12 of Maybe You

“This keeps the bone straight,” I protest. It’s not pretty, but it does the job. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore, so I think it’s fine. Hospitals are busy, and I don’t need to go there to clog up the place even more. It’s probably just a sprain anyway.”

Jordan chooses that moment to approach me from behind and squeeze the two taped-together fingers.

I hiss out a breath and pull my hand away. Trying to shake the pain off does very little good.

Theo grins while I glare at Jordan, who sends me an unimpressed look in return.

“We can stop by the hospital on my way to work,” he says.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Dude, that was the dad tone,” Theo says. “It wasn’t a suggestion. Trust me.”

Jordan ruffles his son’s hair as he passes him, and Theo ducks away with a shout of protest.

“Go get your stuff, kiddo. We’re leaving in ten.” Jordan sends me a pointed look.

I make a face because I fucking loathe hospitals. I’ve spent way too much time in them, and I hate them. If I could, I’d never step foot in one ever again in my life, because I. Fucking. Loathe. Hospitals.

“I’ll keep you company,” Jordan says. “I have time before my shift.”

It’s a bit pathetic how grateful I am for the offer. I’m an adult. It’s been years. Wounds have become scars. I should be able to handle walking into a hospital without anybody holding my hand. But at the same time, if I’m left to my own devices, I most likely won’t go, and we all know it.

“Yeah, okay,” I mutter.

I throw together a quick sandwich while Theo barrels first up the stairs, then back down like a herd of elephants. Jordan rolls his eyes upward and mutters something under his breath about the construction of the house.

“It survived you and Kira,” Remy says. “It’ll survive your son.”

Jordan squeezes his shoulder as he passes him on his way to the foyer.

“Order in tonight?” Jordan says over his shoulder from the doorway.

“Can we have pizza?” Theo’s calls out from somewhere.

“As soon as you figure out how to put some nutrients in it.” Jordan crosses his fingers as he speaks. “So really pay attention in science class.”

“There are nutrients in pizza,” Theo says.

Their voices get muffled the farther away from the kitchen they get.

“Dos that are don’ts.” Remy taps his pen on his crossword. “Nine letters.”

“Wren!” Theo’s impatient voice sounds from the hallway.

I grab an apple from the basket and take a huge bite.

“Combovers,” I tell Remy before I hurry out of the room to catch up with Jordan and Theo.

The splint they give me at the hospital is clunky and uncomfortable, and the news that I have to wear it for the next week doesn’t exactly fill me with joy.

“How am I supposed to type with this thing on?” I mutter, glaring at the splint. “Or work, for that matter.”

“Ideally without complaining,” Jordan says. “Just be glad it’s not broken. A sprain will heal quicker.”

“What a dad thing to say.”

“I am a dad.”

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