Page 61 of A Thin Line

“Maybe underneath.”

“Can you lift your—” he began to ask, but I was already lifting my leg to accommodate the ice pack underneath. “Does that feel okay?”

“It’s fine.”

“What else can I get you?”

“Maybe dinner later.”

He gave one short nod then asked, “What about other books? I see you have a couple there, but I get the idea you’re an avid reader. I don’t want you to run out of material.”

“I can’t really concentrate on reading right now.”

“What about a television? Edna used to have me watch TV when I was sick.”

“Uh, sure. That would be nice.”

He started to leave again but then said, “You should program my number into your phone so you can call when you need something.” Ah…one of the problems of living in a museum. If I had been at home, all I would have had to do would be to raise my voice, and my father would have heard me, regardless of what room he was in.

“I don’t have my phone. It’s still downstairs.”

Without a word, he left again. I found myself dozing off, likely due to sleep being a good way to deal with the constant pain. It wasn’t long before Sinclair reappeared. “The screen on your phone is shattered, so I’ve sent Greg to replace it.”

I panicked, sitting up in bed. “But I need it. It’s the only way I can contact my dad—and I don’t have his number memorized.” Stupid—because my father had always told me to commit important numbers to memory like he’d had to do when he was younger.

“Not to fear. We’ll replace the phone but have your SIM card put in it.” He pulled his own phone out of his pocket and began tapping. “I’ll make sure your data gets transferred from the old to the new—and I’ll tell him to keep the old one just in case.”

Relief washed over me. “Thank you.” As I began to rest my head against the pillows again, I said, “He’ll probably need my passcode, won’t he?”

Sinclair frowned. “He might.”

So I nodded my head and told him 0611. Once I had my new phone, I’d use a different passcode, but for now, I simply wanted a phone. For a moment, I wondered if he would use that as a way to look at my private messages, but my father and I hadn’t said too much over text that was damning. Most of my anger and vile—and his—had been expressed verbally.

“Is that your birthday?” he asked about the code.

“Yes.”

He gave a short smile as he slid the phone back into his pocket. He’d taken off the jacket long ago and was now in just the button-down shirt and tie. “I’ll be back.” As he walked out of my room again, I once more pushed out the thoughts of him being a wonderful caregiver, my hero.

And hot as hell.

My feelings for him in that way intensified every day, but today was far worse—because he’d gone from being a man I felt like I often had to walk on eggshells around, except for the times I intentionally antagonized him, inviting his wrath…to a gentle, caring soul, one concerned for me and my well-being.

I couldn’t help but feel more warmly toward him—so I stopped chastising myself internally and tried to relax.

Again, I dozed off and didn’t awaken until Sinclair had already set up a television at the foot of the bed. He’d even brought a table in there, one I recognized from the hall that had held a vase and a couple of decorative pieces, and that was what the TV rested on. “Ah, you’re awake.” I simply nodded my head as he moved to the side of the bed, handing me a remote control. “You’ll need this. If you need help navigating, I might not be of much help but I can try.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Once more, he asked if I needed anything else and I said no. It wasn’t until an hour later that he brought me both my old phone and new. The old phone was unusable, and they’d put it in a quart food storage bag, probably to keep me from cutting a finger on the shattered glass. Still, it comforted me that I had it.

The second phone was far nicer than any I’d ever owned. I typed in my passcode, planning to change it later when he wasn’t around. I was grateful that my father’s information was there, along with a couple of messages I’d respond to shortly.

“Are you ready for my number?”

“Oh, yes.” Under contacts, I listed him as Mr. W. and typed in the number. “You might want mine too so you know it’s me.”

He also typed in my number and then announced, “I’ll bring dinner up shortly. Lucky for you, we have trays for eating in bed. I called Edna and she told me where to find them. I’ll be back soon.”

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