Page 37 of You Were Invited
“How’s it feel today?”
He took her jacket and scarf from her and hung it up on the hooks on the wall by the door. They looked out of sorts with his worn, stained work clothes. “It feels like a busted-up hand.”
“Well, I’d imagine.” She frowned and her brows came together in concern. “The medicine helping at all?”
“Ummm...” He scratched the back of his head.
She frowned, concerned. “...You okay?”
“The bottles are a two-hand job.”
Annie blinked for a moment before realization dawned on her. “Oh my God, Julian! You’ve had no pain killers since the hospital?” She looked around him and spied the white bag and orange bottle on the kitchen counter.
“You know, Advil doesn’t really work wonders for traumatic hand injuries.”
She twisted the child’s lock, using a good chunk of her strength. “No wonder you couldn’t get any.” She filled him a glass of water at the sink, set it on the counter, and read the label’s instructions. “Take one every four hours with food.” She then dumped the bag’s contents onto the counter. “You’ll probably want these, too.” The paper rattled, and the plastic clattered onthe counter surface. Out came a roll of bandages, the steroid, the antibiotics, and a small little baggie containing three small pills — “Oxy” written on it in black marker.
Dangit!
Julian gritted his teeth to stop from swearing more coarsely in front of a lady. Given that opening the little zipped seal would’ve been near impossible with his limited dexterity, he still could’ve plausibly cut the thin plastic with scissors.I should have taken everything out of the bag.He shook his head.
Annie gave his shoulder a tentative pat.
Glancing at her, and seeing the pity on her face, Julian sighed and shot her a grin. “Better late than never.”
His would-be nurse opened all the bottles and handed him the pills. He wasted no time in swallowing ‘em down and finished the entire glass of water. Drinking with his non-dominant hand was uncomfortable, but doable.
“I’ll leave the caps off.”
“Caps off, yes.” He was so relieved that he was shivering. “Thank you, Annie.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome.” Her hand lifted to tuck her hair behind her ear. Her hair hung loose today, framing her cheeks. “Would you like me to cook you something?” She smiled sweetly. “I have two hands, able and willing.”
“No, that’s okay.”I already owe so much to her.Even though his stomach was growling, he knew she was only offering because she felt bad that he was alone. “That’s kind, but you don’t have to do that, Annie.”
“It’s okay, I want to.”
“I’m sure you’re busy…”
“Well, let me at least help you change your bandages, then?”
I can’t really do that myself...A little dried blood was visible through the white fabric that cushioned his palm, wrist, andlower upper arm. She had him stuck between a rock and a hard place with that one. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable...”
“I don’t like gore,” Annie admitted. “I think I can help without looking too much. And it’s stitched up, right?”
“Stitched up like a kipper.”
She laughed. It was perhaps the most genuine laugh he’d heard in a long time. “What? I’ve never heard that!”
He smiled. “It means: very disappointed and put at a disadvantage.”
“Where did you hear that?”
He’d heard his parents say it to each other when he was young. “From family,” he answered vaguely before he grabbed a pair of scissors and the bandage roll off the counter and headed to the bathroom. He shrugged. “It sounded funnier in my head.”
Annie followed behind him. She cut the bandage free without nicking his skin. It hurt to uncurl his fingers away from his palm, but he had no choice but to do so while she cleaned off the dried blood and gently dabbed at the stitches. Her light touch impressed him and he watched her for any signs of wooziness. In fact, she was smiling.
She squeezed out a slug of opaque antibiotic ointment over the stitched up gash. It looked better, but a man could only look so glamorous with a palm full of puffy skin and a trail of black stitches that looked like ants headed to a picnic. He could see now what Dee had meant about his middle finger. If the blade had cut any farther to the right, he would have had 6 fingers on his hand.
