I eyed Cole suspiciously before turning my attention to the nurse, who had begun throwing rapid-fire questions at me.
Once she’d left, I glanced over at Cole, realizing he hadn’t interjected once with his colorful commentary. It made sense when I saw his head hanging backward, his mouth open as he snored softly.
Dude could sleep anywhere.
And now that he was here, I relaxed easier until the anesthesiologist came in a while later and discussed particulars with me. Cole woke up halfway through this discussion but just listened intently.
Then came the surgeon, a young guy with a lot of pep in his step for so early on a Friday morning. He explained he’d been waiting on the last of my blood test results, and everything looked good. He also explained that because this was the second time going in, there was probably already some scar tissue and mild inflammation from the initial injury and surgery, so he couldn’t give me an exact estimate on how long the procedure would take or how much pain I might be in.
“I’d like minimal painkillers,” I told him once he finished his spiel.
Cole frowned at me but didn’t say anything. He knew all about my parents and their many vices.
“Okay,” the doctor agreed. “I’m always pro that route.” He glanced down at his tablet. “You have no known allergies?”
I nodded in confirmation, but then shook my head, confusing myself. “No allergies,” I said, just to be safe.
He smiled cheerily, and something about his whole vibe reminded me of what I’d told Dr. Patel all those weeks ago.
The power of positive thinking does me dirty sometimes.
Right before they took me back, I fired off a quick text to Delly.
Going back soon. Looking forward to getting my bionic foot. Talk to you soon. Text Cole if you need anything. Love you lots.
Then I shut it off and tossed it to Cole. “Don’t forget to text Delly.”
He caught it with a grin. “Permission to annoy Apple Jacks? Say less.”
I grinned at that. If work wasn’t already a great distraction for Delly, Cole would be.
The next thing I knew, I was being wheeled back, and before I could even let the slight seed of guilt over not finding time to talk to Ireland or even text her, I was counting back from ten.
I only made it to seven before I was gone.
33
IRELAND
There was something very off about today, and I had a feeling the two notes waiting for me this morning in the empty, quiet house on Camellia Lane were connected to it.
The first was on the bathroom mirror above my sink.
When my time comes, bury me in the sand with my toes pointing toward the sea
Ireland Indigo Sewell,
IOU cappuccino(s)
P.S. Consider this a standing voucher for however many I might miss
-Adair
The second was on the kitchen table, a set of keys sat where my cappuccino usually waited for me.
Waves whisper secrets to patientshores
Use the Jeep whenever you need. Or want.
