Page 85 of Slap Shot
“It’s beautiful, Hudson. I’m not glad you got hurt, but I’m glad I got to see this.” Madeline touches the petal on the rose one more time and gives me a small smile. I don’t know why, but the way her mouth curves takes away some of the pain I’m holding. “Who knew you were hiding that underneath your clothes?”
“I’m full of surprises.” I step into the second pant leg and tug on the waistband, pulling the pajama bottoms up. “There we go. Thanks for the assist, Galloway.”
“Happy to help. You said the medicine was in the kitchen?”
“There should be some Advil to the left of the sink. Could you also grab me a bag of ice? I’m going to try to fall asleep with it on my shoulder.”
“Get comfortable in your bed. I’ll be right back,” she says, heading for the kitchen.
I make sure the bathroom is cleaned up and grab my clothes off the floor with my left hand. I drop them in the laundry basket then pull back the sheets, groaning as my head sinks against the pillows.
Exhaustion hits me, and it’s hard to keep my eyes open. Madeline’s soft footsteps approach my room, and I smile when she’s by my side.
“Your gauze is still good, right?” I ask.
“Yeah. Hasn’t budged.” She sets a glass of water on my nightstand and puts the pill bottle next to it. “I brought a thin dish towel for the ice so you don’t get too cold.”
“Smart. I’m probably going to pass out the second I close my eyes, but I don’t want to be uncomfortable.”
Madeline sits on the edge of the bed. She wraps the plastic bag of ice with a white towel and sets it on my right shoulder. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.” I sigh, relaxing for the first time since the injury. “Thanks for your help. Are you sure your finger is okay?”
“Totally fine. Accidents like that happen in restaurants all the time. Besides.” She tosses a wry grin my way. “I had the best caretaker.”
“I don’t know aboutbest.”
“Fine. A decent caretaker.”
“Wow. Downgraded from best to decent? You’re ruthless.”
She laughs and brushes a piece of hair away from my forehead. “Do you need anything else?”
Stay here with me.
Your touch soothes me.
Every minute you’re around, I feel like the part of myself that’s been broken for years is healing.
“I’m good. You’ve done more than enough, Mads. Your service is much appreciated, but you should get some sleep,” I say, yawning at the end. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“If the pain gets worse in the middle of the night, knock on the wall or yell. I don’t want to see you wincing at breakfast and find out I could’ve done something to help,” she says.
“Same for you. If you need another Band-Aid or fresh gauze, you know where I am.”
“Yeah. I do.” Madeline stands and gives me one last look before turning off my lamp. “Good night, Hudson.”
“Night, Mads,” I say, wishing I could’ve found a way to make her stay.
TWENTY-FIVE
HUDSON
I can’t sleep.
My shoulder is fucking killing me.
I can’t get comfortable in bed, and the second round of pain medicine hasn’t helped the ache.
