CARTER AND HIS dog, Snoopy, stuck to my side the whole afternoon, despite there being numerous other kids around they could have gone off to play with. Every time I shifted positions or tried to stretch out the leg that wasn’t in a cast, Carter asked me if he could get me a drink or a snack or if I needed a pillow or if I wanted him to fetch his dad to come and help me get up. One time, he even offered to bring me one of his stuffed animals, “Because my teddy makes me feel better when I’m sick, kind of like Snoopy does.”
I’d never spent much time around kids before, but if most of them were anything like Carter, I wouldn’t mind doing more of it. He was such a sweetheart. Kind of like his father, only in a much smaller, less intimidating package.
Come to think of it, I was almost positive that Carter’s sweet, generous demeanor had an awful lot to do with Ethan’s example to him, which was why I was so comfortable around them both. How could any kid be so thoughtful and caring if he didn’t have a strong role model in his life to demonstrate that sort of behavior for him? Carter was going to grow up to be a good man, every bit as kind and strong and selfless as Ethan.
By the time midafternoon rolled around, I was beyond exhausted. Every day over the last few weeks, I’d been more active than the day before and stayed up longer, but this was ten times more excitement and activity than I’d been exposed to in the hospital. I tried to keep up with the various conversations going on around me, but my mind kept drifting and my eyes started to close of their own volition, no matter how much I wanted to keep them open.
London startled me awake again by setting a saucer bearing a turtle brownie on my lap and handing me a fork. She placed a glass of milk on the end table next to me. “I wouldn’t let my husband have any until you got some, and he’s about to drive me crazy. Anyway, it looks like you’re done in, so I’m going to make him take his to go. Want me to shove everyone else out the door with him?”
“Oh, I…” I didn’t know what to say, because I absolutely wanted everyone to leave so I could rest without feeling bad about ignoring them, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell them to go.
She gave me a silent chuckle. “Eat your brownie and leave it to me. I have no problem being the bad guy.” Then she backed her wheelchair away from me and let out a whistle that pierced my ears, only stopping when the people closest to her fell silent and turned to look at her.
Snoopy barked excitedly at my side, Carter squinted his eyes and put his hands over his ears, and Harper Fielding blinked at London in shock.
“All right,” London said, her voice loud enough to split through the chatter that was still raging. “Time for everyone who doesn’t live here to head out. Natalie needs to get her rest, and she can’t do that with all of you here.”
Within moments, everyone started to get up and gather their things.
Ethan caught my eye from across the room and held my gaze. I wished I could interpret the looks he gave me, but I could never seem to. This one was full of intensity, but why?
Dana Zellinger tossed a bunch of kid things into a large tote bag and handed it to her husband before making her way through the crowd to my side. She handed me my cell phone, which I hadn’t realized wasn’t in my pocket until that very moment. But then again, I didn’t have pockets in the pajama pants I’d worn out of the hospital.
“All of our numbers have been programmed into it for you already,” she said. “And we’re working on putting together a rotation for when the team’s traveling, so you won’t be alone. Either one of us will come here to stay with you or we’ll bring you to one of our houses.”
“And you’d darn well better use it,” Tallie added. “Doesn’t matter if you got your pants stuck on your cast or if you need company. Call someone.”
“I got your number transferred onto my account,” Ethan said, alleviating that worry before I could give it voice.
I nodded, blinking hard so I wouldn’t start crying. I didn’t know what to think of so many people trying to help me out. My own parents had cut me out of their lives a few years ago, when I’d started seeing Hayes. At this point, I just expected everyone to turn on me. But now that Hayes wasn’t in my life anymore, the opposite was happening.
Gradually, they all herded their families out the door—London, Dima, and their little boy were the last to go, with London threatening Dima again because he’d gone back for another bite of brownie—until all that remained were those who would be living in the house and a tornado-like mess.
Ethan looked around for a moment, scanning the chaos they’d left behind before shaking his head and collapsing into a chair. “Cleaning up can wait.”
“I can help,” I said automatically, determined to do exactly that even though I could barely get myself up off the couch. Actually, that might be an exaggeration. After a couple of attempts at standing, I crumpled back against the cushions in defeat.
I didn’t even have the energy to get myself up. How had I lost so much strength in such a short amount of time? It was as if all my muscles had forgotten how to work.
“You,” Ethan said slowly, eying me from across the room, “can rest. Leave the cleaning to us.”
I didn’t want to be a burden, though, and I was already feeling like one. “But—”
“But nothing. You’re exhausted, and there’s no point denying it.”
“Maybe you and Snoopy should go take a nap,” Carter put in. “He likes naps.”
As much as I wanted to argue with Ethan, he was right. I was worn out. No matter how much I’d hated lying in a hospital bed all day, other than the brief times they’d had me in physical therapy or made me walk the halls of the hospital, the truth was I didn’t have the energy for much more than that. And being discharged today, then coming to Ethan’s house and having most of the team and their families here had combined to drain me—physically, mentally, and emotionally.
I was beyond exhausted, and it had to be obvious.
Ethan pushed up from his chair and crossed over to me, grabbing my crutches on the way. He held out a hand for me, the crutches waiting in the other, and practically lifted me to my feet.
“Thanks,” I murmured, taking the crutches from him.
He made sure the path ahead of me was clear and opened the double doors to my room. “You need anything? Some water, or…”
“I don’t need anything,” I replied. At least not anything he could give me. He’d already done so much more than I ever could have imagined. My arm brushed against his abdomen as I made my way past him. I shivered slightly at the contact.
He waited until I was at my bed and pulling down the covers to climb inside. “I’ll make sure Carter lets you rest,” he said. Then he closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts.
I wished he hadn’t closed the door. I knew he was just trying to give me privacy, but what I needed now was a sense of safety.
I rested my crutches against the wall and sat on the edge of the bed, carefully placing my broken leg under the sheets before arranging the rest of my body.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how uncomfortable hospital beds were. Yeah, you could raise them and lower them at all sorts of different angles, but the mattresses didn’t have much give, and they made me sweat because of the plastic coverings under the sheets. And the sheets weren’t terribly soft, a realization driven home by the silky feel of these sheets beneath my fingers.
I tried to get comfortable, to relax enough that I could sleep. Because Ethan was right. I needed to rest if I had any hope of healing and returning to normal. But how could I rest, not knowing what the future held for me?
Yes, Ethan had opened up his home for me and was giving me a place to stay.
For now. But how long would it last? And was I really safe here, or was it an illusion?
I wanted to believe I was safe, and I clung to the hope that Ethan would let me stay at least until I was able to find a job and a way to survive on my own, but neither of us had put any sort of time constraints on our arrangement.
No matter how perfect this seemed on the surface, there was a lot left unsaid. Too much left unsaid, to be honest.
On both our parts.
My exhaustion eventually won out, and I fell asleep to the peaceful sounds of a boy and his father playing fetch with his dog in the backyard.