"I can't wear that and sleep," Obi complained.
"Take it off to sleep, but put it on before you get out of the bed," the doctor commanded. "I won't take no," he added firmly.
"Not arguing with the man with a medical degree," Obi said, holding up his hands in acquiescence. "Thank you both. I appreciate your help."
"That's what we do," Sarah said. "Like you, we help people. We heal bodies, you heal souls."
"What you do is far more difficult," he said as he walked to the waiting room once more.
"I beg to differ," Sir said. "It takes more than medicine to heal a body. It takes the mind, soul and spirit. If any of those are out of whack, the body suffers. I've seen people die, who shouldn't have. But they were discouraged, afraid...." He shrugged. "It's a terrible shame, but it happens.
"Yes, it does."
"Sling," Sir said, reaching for something in a cupboard.
"I hoped you'd forget," Obi chuckled.
"Trust me, you'll want it."
Once Obi had been fitted with a sling, he had to admit to himself that it did feel better.
Back at Wynter's again, he was fussed over by the women so much, he wanted to scream. Finally, taking a deep, cleansing breath, he calmly asked them to stop.
"I'll take a nap until dinner, okay?"
"Okay. If you're sure," the women chorused, as if they'd practiced.
"I'm sure. The pain pill is kicking in, so I'm just gonna...." he closed his eyes and was asleep before he finished speaking.
The women tiptoed from the room, not realizing that a bomb could have gone off next to him, and he wouldn't have noticed.
Dinner prep went quickly with so many skilled hands. The four of them had a good time putting the meal together. It was simple – spaghetti, garlic bread and salad. Soon, the mouthwatering scents of sauce and garlic bread filled the air.
When the meal was ready, the brothers went to help Obi to the table. He asked for a bathroom visit first, then made his way slowly to the table.
"How am I going to eat?" he fussed.
"He might be a righty for everything else," Clive explained. "But he eats like a lefty."
"I cut it up," Wynter said. "You can manage with a spoon in your right, can't you?"
"Can't I just take this thing off?" He pointed to the sling.
"No," Sarah stated. "You aren't sleeping, so you can wear it until you get ready for bed."
"You're not the boss of me," he grumbled, but sat quietly, doing his best to eat with his right hand. "I feel like a child," he muttered.
"You'd feel more like one, if I fed you," Wynter replied. "So stop your whingeing and eat."
Dropping his spoon with a clatter, Obi frowned. "I'm not a kid," he stated as calmly as he could—which wasn't much. "But I'm in pain, and more than a little ticked off at life right now, so cut me some slack."
The others stared at him, particularly Wynter and Sarah.
"He has a point," Eagle said softly, watching the women to make sure they didn't intend to hit him. He was seated between them, and they'd have easy access, if they wanted it. "It's not easy to eat with the wrong hand. Not only that, he's had kind of a lot on his plate, the last couple days. I broke both arms one summer. I couldn't do anything but lie around the house. Obi kept me company, took me for road trips, and even wiped my butt a few times. If he hadn't helped me figure out how to eat with my feet, I'd probably have starved. The idea of having someone spoon feed me was too much. You'd probably do better with your feet," he commented.
"I didn't want to offend anyone, but you're probably right. However, not this meal."
"I don't blame ya, man. I wouldn't want to do it, either. It was a suggestion, for later, when you're alone."
"Thank you." Obi smiled at his youngest brother.
"I called my boss at the boat place," Clive said. "I told him not to bother looking for me tomorrow. I'm taking one of the personal days I never got. I'll take you to and from work, and help you run errands. Mrs. B. has a list of things for me to do at the church, so I'll be around all day."
"You and she got along all right?"
"She's a trip. We had a great time talking while we compiled our list. I'm surprised the place wasn't falling down around your ears. There's a lot of things wrong. You need to hire a roofer," he added suddenly. "The Sunday School wing has a significant leak. Fortunately, it's over the janitor's closet, or you'd have a mess. There's a floor drain, which keeps the water out of the hallway. Unfortunately, it's built up some mold. You'll need someone in to treat that, too."
Obi sighed, rubbing his face. "Thank you. Anything else I need to know?"
"Not at the moment. We'll go over it tomorrow. Ms. B. is keeping your schedule light."
"She's a blessing," Obi said softly.
"Yes, she is."
"I'm glad to have you working with us," Obi said.
There was a knock at the door. Wynter stood, puzzled frown on her face.
"Expecting anyone?" Obi asked.
"No."
Clive followed her to the door. She peeped out the window on the side. Smiling, she flung the door back. "Frankie!" she squealed.
The sisters hugged in the foyer. Clive went around them, grabbing bags and suitcases off the porch. He saw a cab pulling away and waved. The driver waved back. Eagle came to help with the luggage, closing the door behind them.
©Dellani Oakes 2023
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