Page 36 of Geordie

“You don't have to do anything. Just be here when I need you. Well, maybe listen to me when the road gets tough.” I smile. “Until I become pregnant, you three are the only people who will know.”

Chapter seventeen

Without Fear or Favour

Geordie

Idon'tknowwhat'smore frustrating, my limited mobility or waiting for progress on starting my family. If I could go for a run, it would at least keep my mind off of everything. I need to exercise soon, or I'm going to be a before photo for a weight loss drug.

Talking with Tim and my attorney about options for having a child gave me a fair idea of what to expect. I didn’t think it would be that hard; there are a good many children who need a home. It was the call I received from the attorney, days after our first meeting, that left me concerned. Only two agencies will consider working with me to help me adopt, and that doesn’t mean they will.

The attorney warned me about agencies not willing to work with single men, but it was still a blow to my ego. I’d thought about looking into adoption in Scotland but dismissed that idea. This is where I live, and where I’ll remain until the child is old enough to attend school in Scotland. She will be born in America, and as the UK allows dual citizenship, she will have a connection to both countries.

Unable to move at my normal pace has hampered my working at MacTavish Cellars. I have to think twice before I decide to meet Connell in the vines, visit the tasting room, or head out to any of the other buildings on the property. We were shorthanded in the tasting room, and I decided to don my kilt and go in and help. I didn’t realize how much back and forth there is in the tasting room when you're pouring for guests. The other wine-tasting associates had to maneuver around me, or fetch me a bottle or glasses before I could pour. I became such a burden that when a large crowd of guests walked into the tasting room, I left defeated. At least when I'm in my apartment, there's no one that has to dodge me as I lumber around the space. It's only been less than two weeks since the accident, but it feels like months.

The frozen dinner I pull from the freezer mocks my lack of cooking skills. The spaghetti and meatballs is the least offensive meal I could find in the frozen section of the market. I pull it out of the red box that says it's a man-size portion. I make a mental note to switch to regular dinners. It will be tough enough to get back into shape once I can put weight on this ankle. I shove the dinner into the microwave and program in the minutes.

The bottle of MacTavish whiskey stares at me from the counter. I splash a dram into a glass and savor the warmth of the liquid relaxing me. Leaving the empty glass on the counter, I pivot on my crutch and limp my way into the bathroom. I figure I should shower and change before I face my dinner from the red box.

The shower is big enough for three people. I like the feel of space around me when I bathe. I switch on the water, lean my crutch next to the shower, and pull off clothing while the water streams out of the nozzle, getting hot.

I'm able to switch on the music while I take a shower. Since Lily was here, I've been in a ’90s mood. I had speakers specially mounted after she left so my phone alarm can wake me up with music. Right now, the sounds ofLoserby Beck come through the speakers.

Steam rises and begins to curl around the room as the mirror fogs up, giving me only a partial glimpse of my face. I gingerly step inside the shower, keeping my weight off of my ankle. The hot water runs over my head, the pounding stream sliding down my face and onto my body. Anchoring myself with my left hand splayed out over the wet tiles, I palm the soap with my free hand, releasing the scent of sandalwood and begin lathering as Lily drifts into my thoughts. Our almost-kiss, the dancing, the way she looked in that school uniform, all those memories are cursed, and none of it was real.

The soap slips over my chest, the lather slipping off and down the drain. It's a shame we ended our almost-relationship this way. I shouldn't be surprised… it always ends this way with the woman disappointing me, as if honesty is optional in a relationship.

Lily is a bonnie package, but she’s no better than the rest. I’m too old to waste my time playing games with faithless females. I imagine she had to use a few people to get where she is now.

I finish soaping for the third time and let the water run over my head until my body rinses clean. I pump a few squirts of shampoo and work it through my hair, also giving my beard a shampooing as well. I rinse my beard as I feel suds sliding down my forehead, then my eyes begin burning from this new shampoo.

“Fuck.” This stuff is burning a hole in my retina. I reach for the towels that are too far away from the shower. I give up and stand under the flow of water to rinse my face, but it feels like someone is punching me in the eyeballs. I've been standing here for about seven minutes without a problem, but my ankle is beginning to throb.

The shower is an open design, no sliding glass door. I grab my crutch, place it under my arm, and take a tentative step, testing if the crutch will hold my weight. I take another step and it feels solid enough, until the rubber tip of the crutch skids from a wet patch I didn’t see on the floor. I'm flailing my arms like an oversized bird, trying to right myself. I fail and crash to the floor, but on the way down I manage to bang my knees and give another jolt to my injured ankle. The towels are close enough to reach, so I pull down a hand towel and wipe my face to relieve the burning in my eyes.

I drag myself to the sink, propping myself against the cabinet. There’s still a slight burning in my eyes and my legs are throbbing badly. I try to get up, but I’m not able to stand. I throw my hand above my head, my fingers touching the wallet and phone on the sink. The wallet slides out of reach, but the phone falls to the floor near my hand.

I let out a breath. Both knees are swelling like melons and the pain in my ankle is getting worse. I try to push myself up and onto my feet, thinking I’ll just power through the pain. That doesn’t work; I fall back on my arse.

I’m not going to walk out of here without help. I can wait until the pain in my legs subsides, but that could take hours.

I think about calling an ambulance. This injury isn’t life-threatening, and I’d feel like an arse, sitting on the floor like a helpless bairn, making them help me onto a stretcher again.

The doctor gave me one Oxycontin just in case the pain was too bad the day I went home. It was more like insurance, just enough to get me mobile to get to his office if it got too much. That Oxycontin will come in handy right now, but it’s in the kitchen.

I make several attempts to get up, using my upper body strength to pull myself onto my legs. The pain is too much when I put weight on my legs. I’m probably making it worse.

I lay back against the sink cabinet, scrolling through my phone. Connell would come to help if I asked. He’s a good guy. Our relationship is work-related, and it would be awkward because I’m still his boss.

William would never let me hear the end of it. I’d be a story for the dirt bike riders in the club.

I’d call Lochlan, if we were in the same zip code, even if I had to endure a lecture on bathroom safety. The truth is, my male pride doesn’t want any of them to know how much of an idiot I am.

I continue to scroll names until I land on Lily. I’m about to swipe to find someone, anyone, else to help me, then I swipe her name back and open her profile. There’s nothing between us. She helped me once, and more than likely she’ll help again. I still have the Catriona leverage, and I’ll make an exception just this one time. All she needs to do is go to the kitchen, get the pill and a glass of water, bring them to me, then she can leave. That’s all I need. When that pill kicks in, I can get up on my own, no problem.

I dial her number. This should be the beginning of her dinner shift. She might not pick up the phone until the end of the evening. Her voicemail comes on. “This is Lily,” she says in a sultry voice that has my attention. “I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I’ll call you back.”

I don’t leave a message; I hang up and decide there’s got to be another way. It’s not fair to call William. More than likely, he’s not able to get a babysitter and will have to bring Emmy with him. I sigh, deciding to choose Connell. He has no children, he’ll come by to help me. After this, I can throw that employer-employee relationship right out the door. I scroll through my contacts and open his profile. The phone rings before I can make the call. I punch the speaker.

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