Page 36 of The Sweet Spot
My phone chimes then with a message from Micah.
Micah: Hey, you doing okay?
Me: I’m alive.
Micah: I just dropped supplies outside Jennie’s kitchen door. Jeans, T-shirt, underwear and socks. You need anything else?
Me: Thx. I owe you. Maybe a ride later this morning to the station?
Micah: Sure. Just txt when you’re ready.
I go ahead with my shower, moving very slowly because every time I use my right arm, pain streaks along my spine. I manage to bathe one-handed. I even wash my hair one-handed.
I dry my feet on the bath mat, and with nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist, I slip out of the bathroom and head to the kitchen door to open it. Sitting on the top step is a paper grocery sack. I grab it and take it back to the bathroom so I can get dressed.
Besides more clothing, Micah also packed my deodorant. Good man! At least one of us is thinking clearly this morning. Maybe my brain is still a bit addled by the sedative.
The house is quiet, so I don’t think Jennie and Rosie are out of bed yet. I head for the kitchen, flip on the lights, and start the coffeemaker. While I’m waiting, I pace nervously. I’m not sure how Jennie will respond to me this morning.
I’m just about to pour myself a cup when I hear someone walk into the room. Bracing myself, I turn to see who it is, and I’m majorly relieved to see it’s Rosie in her floral bathrobe and pink bunny slippers. “Good morning, Granny.”
“Hello, Sheriff.” Fortunately, she doesn’t question my presence in her home. “Is there a cup of coffee with my name on it?”
“There sure is, ma’am. Have a seat, and I’ll bring it to you.”
I pour her a cup, add the French vanilla creamer she likes, and set the cup in front of her on the table.
She takes a sip and says, “It’s perfect. Thank you, dear.”
“How about some breakfast? I was planning to make scrambled eggs. Would you like some?”
“I believe I would, honey.”
So, I get out a skillet and some oil and the carton of eggs from the fridge. It takes me a couple of tries to master cracking eggs one-handed, but I manage. Just as the eggs start cooking, Jennie walks into the kitchen. Her hair is damp, so she musthave just showered. She’s wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt that beautifully hugs her breasts. I force myself to look away.
“Morning,” she says.
“Morning.”
“Where’s your sling?”
“In the hall bathroom.”
“You should be wearing it.”
I shrug.Ouch.“I’ll put it on after breakfast.”
“Speaking of breakfast,” she says, eyeing my efforts at the stove. “You’re cooking.”
“Yeah. It’s the least I can do.”
She goes to pour herself a cup of coffee and takes a seat at the table. “How’s your shoulder?”
I flex a bit, wincing because it’s sore as hell. “A lot better today, which is a good thing. I don’t want to miss any work.”
“Chris.” She levels herlet’s be reasonablegaze on me. “Dr. Talbott said you need to take it easy for a few days. Maybe even a week. You should take some time off.”
“I can still work. I’ll catch up on my paperwork in the office and leave the patrolling and chasing to the deputies. Micah offered to drive me to the station later this morning.”
