My plan for today was to do some editing. I hoped to post a new Francesca video this week, just to get back in the habit of it.
Yesterday, I’d gotten an unexpected opportunity when Katy let me come over and film her. Marley had taken over as Will’s nurse after James went out on his call. The building that caught fire was next door to The Landslide. Out of caution, the restaurant closed for the day, so the manager sent Katy home. Since her parents had taken her kids to Spokane to go holiday shopping, she’d ended up with a rare free afternoon.
It surprised me she wanted to spend that precious time filming with me, but she’d explained, “We’re never going to get another chance like this, and I want to do it before I lose my nerve.”
We’d talked options, and eventually focused on Katy telling my camera about her approach to getting dressed for days spent with tiny humans and rowdy customers. A lot of her thought process revolved around ease of movement, and absolutely nothing could need ironing or, heaven forbid, dry-cleaning. I filmed her closet and did some styling with her, using her own clothing and preferences to put together outfits she hadn’t thought of.
She’d also spoken about her husband leaving, starting over, and how some days were better than others. This led to an interesting monologue about how her divorce had affected her style, which I knew would lend some gravitas to the piece.
If she let me use it.
I hoped to plug the clips into my editing software and get a rough cut done today. I wanted to send it over to Katy and make sure she was okay with me including the more serious bits. If she wasn’t comfortable, I’d cut them. It would still be a fun piece without the heavy stuff.
By eleven o’clock, I’d finished my first full edit. I’d also bought Christmas gifts for Bren, Chase, and my sisters online, plus eaten two pieces of leftover cake for breakfast. I couldn’t help but think how different my Monday mornings had been when I’d worked at Kolya’s.
Close to noon, a groan came from the third bedroom. Opening the door, I found Will hunched over the bedframe, one foot planted on the floor, the other still straight along the edge of the mattress. He’d used one arm to prop himself into a seated position.
I kneeled next to him, and he immediately put a hand on my shoulder to brace his frame, emitting a pained grunt.
“Sorry, Will. I didn’t realize you were up. Can I get you something? You probably shouldn’t be trying to stand without help yet.”
His face pinched as he choked out, “I need—” He tried to swing his bruised leg over as though he meant to roll out of the bed. A bead of sweat dripped down his neck, and he pressed a hand to his stomach.
I understood. “Let me help you walk to the bathroom.”
He nodded gratefully, and I assisted him in rising to a standing position and hobbling to the bathroom. Leaning on the counter and using the towel bars for support, he was able to handle the rest of the process himself, so I waited in the hallway to give him privacy. Afterward, I helped him back to bed.
“Thank you,” he said, leaning back on his gold velvet pillows.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I just got run over by a dump truck while Metallica mixed a new album inside my skull. But that’s an improvement from yesterday. I think the worst is over.”
“Good.” I sat down next to him on the bed. The room was small, with only a bed, nightstand, and dresser. There was a folding chair in the corner James had brought in last night, butI preferred being closer to Will. I needed to keep reassuring myself he was okay. “The doctors said the timeline on your recovery would be unpredictable. That the main thing is you make progress every day.”
“I’m dizzy, but my mind is much clearer. And my words.” He flexed his fingers on top of the bedspread, taking a measured breath before speaking. “We’ll be able to talk, really talk, soon.” He stretched out a hand and touched my hip like he’d done last night. That small touch had my synapses firing.
I popped up from the mattress.
“There will be time for talking,” I said, clapping my hands together at my waist. “But for now, can I bring you something to eat?”
“Actually—” He crooked his elbow and tilted his head toward his armpit, sniffing. “I’m a little self-conscious about how ripe I am. Do you think you can help me use the shower?”
Based on my reaction to the tip of his finger on my skin, helping him shower seemed like dangerous territory. Then again, he smelled objectively foul, a combination of hospital, stale sweat, and the flowery detergent Marley used on the bedsheets.
I laughed.
“What?” Will asked, smiling softly. “My funkiness amuses you?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s more the fact I’m sitting heresmellingyou. I’m probably loopy from the past few days—” Righting myself, I met his gaze. “Like, how did we get here? I mean, I’ve only been around you, what, maybe five days in my entire life. But somehow…somehow, we’re—” I waved my hand indiscriminately, searching for the right word, before finally settling on, “We’reus.”
He sat up straighter, wincing with the effort. “Maureen, let’s be real. Even if it’s only five—and I actually think it’s more likeseven, depending on how you’re counting—” He grinned wryly. “However many it is, they’ve been some pretty memorable days, right?” He closed his eyes and opened them slowly before continuing in a serious tone, “And ever since I met you, even when you haven’t been there, you’ve always kind ofbeen there, you know?”
As he kept his gaze locked on mine, I dipped my chin in acknowledgment.
During the four years we didn’t communicate, I’d still thought about him. Inadvertent, unwanted thoughts sprang up randomly, from nowhere, to remind me how deep the pain had cut, how something so beautiful had ended so cruelly. The depth of my instant connection to him had been the unmet benchmark of every man I met after. And then this past year, knowing he’d be part of my life again, my mind could not settle on one way to feel. I only knew no one had ever gotten under my skin like Will.
We’d been in it. He and I. Since the minute we’d locked eyes at the concert.
