"Call him Don. He's a casual guy."
"That okay with you, Boss?"
"Yes," he scribbled. "Thanks."
"Happy to. Off we go. I'll check on you soon, CV."
"See ya, baby girl." He closed his eyes.
They stopped at the nurse's station for his shot. It took a few minutes to write up and dispense. By that time, he really hurt. After his medicine, it took two women to get him back into bed. Feeling wobbly, he lay back, falling immediately asleep.
When he woke, Tabitha Levi was there. Her smile just about did him in.
"Hi," she said softly. "I hear good things about you."
"Yeah?" he whispered, trying to sit up.
Tabitha leaned over to help him. Anton felt weak and helpless.
"I didn't call them," she whispered. "I thought about it, but that old man needs you. And you're―not so bad."
"Should we talk about it?"
"No. How are you feeling?" she asked more loudly.
"Peachy, f**king keen, Doc." It hurt like hell to talk, so he asked for his board.
Tabitha handed it to him, and their fingers met, sending a tingle up and down his spine. Anton inhaled sharply, his eyes wide open.
"Are the cops still here?" he wrote.
"No," she scribbled under it. "But security is gung ho."
"Great. Should you be seen with me? I don't want to get you in trouble."
"Don't worry about me." She smiled, brushing his hair from his forehead. "Did they give you a report on CV?" she asked aloud as he wiped the board.
"Yes," he managed to say.
"Don't try to talk. The damage was more extensive than anticipated. Some of your teeth were compromised. Also, your jaw. Didn't Dr. Bennett tell you all this?"
"Yes, but I'm on drugs, Doc," he wrote.
"I know it's hard for an independent man to be in bed."
"Alone," he added softly. "Don't pretend you don't know," he printed slowly.
"I should be furious with you," she replied.
Anton touched her cheek, tenderly. A flicker of a grin twitched across his face. She touched his uninjured cheek and smiled.
"You are far too charming for your own good, Mr. Winthrop."
"Good." He couldn't keep the smug tone from his voice.
Giggling, Tabitha made to rise. "I have to go on shift soon."
He caught her hand, keeping her seated. "You aren't in trouble?"
"The judge seemed to think that doing my job was more important than being locked up."
He closed his eyes, sighing happily. At least one of them was free. "Good," he whispered again.
She stood, still holding his hand.
"Why Lister? Not Levi?"
"Married, briefly. Lister is my maiden name. I got famous as a model while I was with him. Too much trouble to change it."
Anton nodded slowly, drifting back to sleep. He didn't think it was his imagination that he felt soft lips on his uninjured cheek.
Eilene Stafford woke early, after only five hours of sleep. Her mind racing, she couldn't find the silence and relaxation needed to go back to sleep. The man next door was doing his lawn. Normally, she slept through that, but not today. Jazzed from the night before, she got up and made breakfast. A cup of coffee made her far too alert, so she put on an exercise video. The kenpo workout got rid of the extra energy, and she felt more relaxed after her shower. She didn't want to go back to sleep, afraid it would make her groggy.
Putting the energy to good use, she cleaned her house. With her on evenings the last few weeks, her housekeeping had suffered. She hated shift rotation, preferring straight nights to evenings. Soon, she would be on nights again, and she looked forward to it.
"You need a man," she said to herself. "Oh, shut up! I'm fine without one." In a moment of complete honesty, she replied. "No, you're not. And stop talking to yourself―dumb ass."
There was a sharp knock at her door about 1:30. She peeped out to see Newton's grinning face. He held a drink carrier and bag.
"I know you probably ate already, but I'm starving, and I didn't have any food." He walked over to the coffee table as boldly as if he lived there. Setting down the beverage tray, he handed her a covered plastic cup. "I noticed you like these at the start of shift." Smiling, he sat on the couch and opened the bag. "I got croissants, if you want one."
"Thank you. Want a plate?"
"Please. Don't want to get crumbs on your carpet."
She grabbed a couple plates from the kitchen. He served her a croissant before taking one himself. Her drink was mocha iced coffee, the milk and sugar just right.
©2021 Dellani Oakes
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