Page 51 of It's Always Us

“I may order you something if you can keep your dramatics to a minimum.”

“Dramatics? They’re slicing my shoulder open, rearranging a bunch of stuff, and then going to try to put it back together so it works again. You could be a little more sympathetic.”

Shane groans. “I’ve been there.” He taps his knee.

“Yeah, well, look how that turned out.”

He side-eyes me, the sympathy just rolling off him.

“I think you’re all set. Can you verify everything is correct?” The woman reaches across the desk with a white plastic bracelet in her hand.I verify the information before she secures it to my wrist, and we’re off to the next station.

A nurse ushers us to a small, private, curtained corner and scurries around, rapid-firing instructions I’m sure as hell not listening to. The less I know, the better.

She hands me the dreaded gown and then disappears.

I toss the gown to the side and remove my shirt, sitting on the edge of the gurney.

“She told you to put that on,” Shane says, trying to fold himself in the tiny chair.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing them a favor. They won’t have to deal with all that fabric while they’re slicing and dicing.”

“Mark, your charms won’t get you out of their protocols.”

“Maybe they’ll get me extra pain medicine and out of here sooner.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “The last thing you need is extra painkillers.” He shoots me a pointed look. He’s right about that, but I’m not admitting it because anything that will knock me out and make me numb sounds pretty damn good right about now.

I stare at him as he flips through the paperwork. I shiver.Why do they have to keep it thirty degrees below zero in these places?If you’re here, you’re already uncomfortable enough.

“Stop staring at me. You have the best surgeon in the country. You need to relax. If you bounce your leg any harder, you’ll fall off the bed.”

I realize at some point my big grumpy-ass bro has become a little mother hen. “Your bedside manner is horrific. Why didn’t you send Maggie?”

“I didn’t want her to have to deal with your overstimulated hyperactivity. Now, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you nervous? You’re twitchy and higher-strung than usual.”

“Uh. Hell yes, I am. This place is like a visit to an Arctic prison cell where you get tortured and released.I need this to be over and my shoulder to work again.”

My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket, needing a distraction.

LEX: *flex arm emoji* *football emoji* *racehorse emoji*

ME: *racehorse emoji*?

LEX: Mustang

ME: Huh?

LEX: *Laughing face emoji* *Heart emoji*

“What’s that dumbass grin on your face for?” Shane barks from the corner of our little curtained square.

“None of your business. If you were nicer, maybe I’d tell you.” I turn my phone off and tuck it in the plastic drawstring bag the nurse left for all my personal items. “When are Maggie and the kids getting here?”

“Not soon enough. Liv can dote on you like the damsel in distress you are.”

Shane reads the care instruction packet as if it’s the first time he’s ever been in charge of someone, and it somehow makes me feel extra special.

“Ahhh. My little Liv. I can’t wait to see my favorite little girl.”

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