“Eh, not always. Sometimes nice is fake as hell,” she steps away, back to being as distant as ever. “I’ve got to find a restroom, I’ll be right back.”
“Alright,” I say. She walks out of sight, probably aware I’m watching her go and maybe even swaying her hips a bit more as she walks. When she’s gone, I look up the ladder. That big red apple she couldn’t reach taunts me. I’m taller, I could easily reach it.
I start to climb.
_____
“I’m fine,” I tell a group of concerned townsfolk who, unfortunately, saw the ladder take its plunge. Or maybe they heard me scream. It was a very deep, manly scream, though, so probably not. Nigel rushed out of the shadows and so did one of his men.
Aunt Kim is here with a gaggle of little old ladies, two of whom claim to be retired nurses. Steven, half of the gay couple from the scarecrow contest, says they’re lying just to get their hands on my leg. While he claims up and down that he’s a paramedic. “I’m fine,” I say again. If anything, it’s a little ankle sprain. It barely even hurts.
“Ben? Move, Excuse me!” A voice that sounds similar to Janie’s cuts through the hubbub. “I said excuse me! Ben? Ben! What the hell!” It is her. She reaches me and…if she’s feeling concerned about me, she’s masking those feelings as, based on her scowl, blind rage. “So, I can’t get on the ladder but you can? What did you do, go and break your leg? What if I likeyourlegs, you big dummy?
“Steven, get your pervy hands off of him, one year of nursing school does not make you an EMT! Did the paparazzi see? This is just great, now we have to go to the ER and they are going to have a field day with this, Benedict. A FIELD DAY. Ugh,seriously. If the ladder is not safe for me then it’s also not safe for you! What is wrong with men?”
She continues ranting as she helps me up. And as she barks orders for people to get ice and a post to use as a crutch. And as she yells directions to the hospital for Nigel while she climbs into the backseat with me.
She’s rambling and mean and quite unhinged.
But I’m struggling not to smile. Trying not to beam with delight like a fool, really. Because she is genuinely worried about me.
And she called me Ben.
20
JANIE
Harper: How’s the patient?
Janie: Finally asleep, thank God
Harper: So even a billionaire turns into the typical needy man-child huh?
I hesitate and then finally just reply with a laughing emoji. Because he hasn’t been a needy man-child. Well, he has needed me. For sure.
I’ve propped him up, brought him food, water, and set up Netflix for him to watch, only for him to insist we sit together and watch my Real Housewives show.
Even though it was a small sprain, his ankle turned purple and swelled up to the size of that pumpkin he exploded last week. He can’t really do anything but sit with it elevated. They decided on a few days worth of hard painkillers, which made him not needy, not even loopy. More like…gooey?
Did you know your whole face lights up when I bother you? I so enjoy it. Bothering you.
You aren’t the most gentle nurse but you have absolutely got to be the prettiest.
Is this soup so good because you made it?
That last part was overkill. I heated some fancy soup from the fridge that he chose and bought. I don’t know why he always lays it on so thick. Does he think I need that? I don’t need that. I also didn’t need the constant commentary on my legs and butt every time I bent to grab him a blanket, a fallen spoon, and all the other things I soon realized he was dropping on purpose.
Don’t need it but…don’t hate it.
I don’t like the gooeyness though. No more drugs for him tomorrow. The sincerity, the earnestness…things got very weird.
Did you know you called me Ben? I quite liked that. Too much, probably. Made my chest all tight. That’s weird isn’t it? Felt weird. You make me feel weird. Bloody hell. I’m in trouble with you, I think.
He said the last part on a sigh, not even really talking to me anymore. That’s when I blurted a hurried goodnight and went to hide in my room. An hour later, he’s finally out cold.
I gather dishes and turn off the TV. I clean up our trash and adjust the blanket over his long legs. He doesn’t twitch or even change his breathing, so I decide to study him.
Good Lord, he’s handsome. And built. This is my first time seeing him in a simple white T-shirt and it pulls tight across a full chest and bulging shoulders. Nice biceps. He’s firm, tall, warm…solid. I swallow and refocus on his face. He actually looks more serious and hard while sleeping. No smirk or wagging eyebrows, only him, unaffected.
