25
It takes Alex nearly an hour to get the car packed after Ben’s check up on Monday. At last he has Bart settled behind his grid with a bone, and Ben reclining in the passenger seat with his leg stretched out. By the time he sends a text to Allie to say they’re on their way, Alex regrets the whole idea. He’s relieved when Ben says he’s not interested in stopping– the antibiotics are wreaking havoc on his stomach and for the first time doesn’t want to risk greasy chicken - and instead seems happy enough for Alex to stop on the side of the road so Bart can stretch and relieve himself.
When they pull up to the front door of the house, Allie runs down the steps to yank open Ben’s door. She leans in and hugs him, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m okay, mom, honestly,” Ben is saying into her hair, rubbing her back when Alex gets to them. Allie withdraws and waits while Alex helps Ben stand and hands him his crutches.
“Need me to help with the steps?” he asks.
“No, you sort Dork Dog out.”
“Okay, remember, crutches first, feet second.”
“What do you think I am? Six?”
“Yes,” Alex says and goes to get Bart. He clicks the lead and is thankful when the dog lifts his leg on the third shrub he sniffs. Grabbing the plastic box packed with pills for Ben from the back seat, he tugs Bart over to the steps. Ben is at the top, grinning, flanked by his mother and grandmother.
“All by myself, like a big boy,” he says.
“Idiot,” Alex says but kisses him anyway before turning to hug Allie. She feels thin and frail, her face is wet against his neck when she winds her arms around him. He lets her hold on for a moment, knowing she needs the reassurance.
“He really is going to be okay,” he whispers in her ear and she nods.
“Young man,” Polly says holding her arms out to be hugged, “you look tired.”
“I’m fine, Polly,” he says keeping his arm around her as they follow Allie and Ben inside. It’s true he’s a little tired but nothing he can’t handle he tells her.
Allie leads them to the kitchen where the table is set for lunch. Alex smiles when he sees a plate of egg salad sandwiches next to the bowl of macaroni cheese and kisses her cheek before filling Bart’s bowl and letting him off the lead. Watches as Ben leans his crutches against the table and lowers himself into his chair with a hiss.
“Ready for a pill?” Alex asks and when Ben nods, takes the lid off the container and hands him a painkiller and an antibiotic. Rolls his eyes when Ben makes a face at the latter.
“Do I have to take these things?”
“Nope,” he says helping himself to a sandwich and sitting down. “You can get an infection and go back to hospital. Up to you.”
“They upset my stomach,” Ben grumbles as he washes them down with the water his mother hands him.
Polly grins and pats his hand.
“Child, I shall make you some rice water this afternoon,” she says, “and that will sort that problem out.”
Alex laughs, happy to let the women fuss over Ben while he eats. For the first time since last Wednesday he doesn’t feel as if he’s on full alert, watching Ben’s every movement and facial expression. He helps himself to another sandwich and accepts a glass of milk from Allie while he listens to Ben explain what happened.
“Thankfully he came after me and not Talia,” Ben is saying, and Alex looks up.
“Talia?” Allie asks.
“His ex. She’s been at the refuge for nearly three weeks while we got the protection orders sorted and find somewhere safe for her to go. If he’d gone there, chances are high he would have killed her. The guy’s a whack job.”
Glad as he is that Talia is safe, Alex would like it better if he hadn’t used Ben for target practice. Allie and Polly agree.
“Will he go to jail?” Allie asks.
“Oh hell yeah,” Ben says. “I’m throwing everything I can at him. Assault, attempted murder, carrying without a permit, and any other damned thing I can think of. By the time the firm and I are done with him, he’s going to think twice before waving a gun at any other ass punching lawyers. His words, not mine. By the time that piece of shit gets out, Talia is going to be far away, and he won’t ever be able to touch her again.”
Alex puts the remains of his sandwich down and stares at Ben.
“You have got to be the only person on the planet who can get shot and be more concerned with how he can use it to protect someone else.”
“Dirty job, someone’s got to do it,” Ben says.
“Can it not be you next time?”
“I second that,” Allie says.
Alex picks up his plate and glass, takes them to the sink and rinses them, ignoring Allie’s protests. He wants to take Bart for a walk on the beach before unpacking the car, he tells them, smothering a yawn.
“Alex I’ve put you boys in the downstairs guest room, so you don’t have to worry about stairs,” Allie says. “Why don’t you go and lie down, and Polly and I will take Bart for a walk.”
“You don’t have to do that, Allie. I’m fine.”
“That is a load of brown sticky stuff, young man,” Polly says, “He might not get as much of a walk as he would with you, but we’re quite capable of walking the dog. Now get yourself into the bedroom and take a nap.”
Alex tries to protest one more time, only to find himself up against Ben as well and he concedes defeat. Fine, he’ll nap for an hour and then he’ll unpack the car and change Ben’s dressing. Allie pulls him to the bedroom. Opens the door and stands back to let him through. He sees Bart’s basket is already in place by the bathroom door and thanks her.
“Try to get some rest,” she says. “I’ll try to keep our boy out of trouble.”
“Good luck with that.” Alex flops down on the bed, toeing off his shoes.
Five minutes later he’s sound asleep.
#
When Alex opens his eyes, it’s nearly six o’clock and the house is filled with the smell of roasting chicken. He’s been asleep for nearly four hours and two egg sandwiches seem a distant memory. In the bathroom, he splashes water on his face, then goes in search of the others.
He finds them in the living room; Ben is stretched on the couch with a glass of cloudy looking fluid that Alex guesses must be Polly’s rice water next to him. Polly is seated in her arm chair, with her patchwork blanket draped over her knees, nursing a glass of port. Allie is just coming through from the kitchen and greets him with a smile.
“Sleep well?” she asks.
“You should have woken me,” he says, sitting down on the floor by the couch. Bart pads over and sit next to him, head on his lap.
“Why? You obviously needed it,” Allie says and disappears back into the kitchen. When she returns she’s carrying a plate with two sandwiches and an open beer. She hands them to Alex, sits back down and picks up her own drink.
“Feel better?” Ben asks and he nods.
“Much,” he says around a mouthful of sandwich. “I’ll have this and then I’ll empty the car.”
Ben nudges his shoulder and points to the door. Their bags are already there.
“Okay I’m not sure which is worse – that you might have done that or more likely that Allie and Polly did do it.”
“Firstly, I thought we had an agreement about you not feeling guilty about everything,” Ben says, plucking the beer from Alex’s hand and swallowing a small mouthful. “Secondly, I didn’t get any say in it, they did it while I was out cold on the couch.”
“And thirdly, we’re not fragile little flowers,” Allie adds. “We can handle a couple of bags.”
Alex blushes and mumbles an apology, avoiding Allie’s eye, as he takes back his beer.
“Keep drinking that on top of those painkillers and antibiotics, and you’ll really know what an upset stomach is,” he scolds. He passes back the glass of rice water and ignores Ben’s grimace of disgust.
Although he’s still tired, he does feel a lot better for the sleep. They’ve swapped sides of the bed but even so, he’s been aware of Ben’s movements and at around two this morning had woken with a jump after a nightmare about waking to find Ben dead in a pool of blood next to him and the sound of his mother laughing. On top of the stay at the hospital he’d been running close to empty when they left the city.
He tips his head back to look at Ben and how he’s feeling.
“Bit stiff to be honest and not in the good way.”
Allie lobs a pillow at Ben’s head. It sails past him to land on the floor.
“I keep telling you,” she says, “this is a family show.”
“That’s normal, the muscle is in shock,” Alex says. “When we change the dressing, we’ll do some stretches to help loosen things up.”
“Why do I get the feeling that’s not going to be as fun as it sounds?”
Alex winks at Polly, then twists around and grins.
“Well, you’re right, it probably won’t be very pleasant, and we don’t have to do it, especially if you’re not feeling great” he says, “but the longer you put off loosening it up, the long you put off the wedding night.”
Polly shrieks with laughter and claps her hands. Pulling Alex’s hair, Ben mutters about being ganged up on.
“On that note, I think we’ll finish getting dinner ready,” Allie says, “and you two can come on through when you’re done. It’s a nice night, we may as well eat outdoors.”
Alex searches through the pile of bags for the one with the dressings, drops it by the couch, and goes to wash his hands. When he returns, Ben has got out the bandages, saline, and swabs, pushed his pants around his knees, and is picking at the adhesive at the top of the bandage. Alex slaps his hand away.
“When did you wash your hands last? Idiot.”
“Idiot who loves you,” Ben says.
“Mmmmhmmm, so you keep saying” Alex replies and gets to work. There’s a little clear discharge around the stitches but the flesh is cool to the touch so he’s not concerned. He washes it with antiseptic, applies antibiotic cream and puts a new bandage on. When he’s finished, he pulls the grey pants back up over Ben’s hips and begins to massage the muscle on the underside of the wounded thigh. Ben grunts and bites his lip.
“Sore?”
“Among other things,” Ben replies, closing his eyes.
“Behave. I’m going to hold your thigh and I want you to try and bend your knee and gently pull it back toward your chest,” Alex says. “And the operative word here is gently. You won’t get very far and that’s fine, it’s not a competition.”
They repeat the movement several times, until Alex can see sweat starting to pop on Ben’s forehead. He eases the limb out until it’s resting on the couch again and checks the bandage, pleased to see no sign of blood. The stitches have held. Inching forward he dips forward to brush Ben’s lips with his own.
“I love you,” he says. Ben’s hand is cool on his neck when he reaches up to pull him closer and Alex closes his eyes. The kiss deepens and he leans into it, opening his mouth to Ben’s tongue with a small sigh.
“I love you back,” Ben says when it ends. Smile up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
Alex groans.
“I am not dressing up in a nurse’s uniform,” he says, narrowing his eyes. Ben sniggers and shakes his head.
“Not what I was going to ask,” he says.
“Okay, so ask.”
“On Saturday will we be able to, you know, have a wedding night?”
“Ben, we’ve got the rest of our lives together,” Alex starts to say but Ben stops him.
“I know. And trust me all things being equal, I’m just grateful we’re having a wedding day, but, I was kind of looking forward to the first time making love to you as my husband.”
“Ben Larsen did you just say making love instead of fuck? Are you a grown up now?”
“Oh fuck off,” Ben says, smacking Alex’s thigh.
“Guess not.”
Ben growls and reaches up to pull Alex’s head back down to his and kisses him again.
“It’s still five days away, I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Alex says when they separate.
#