* * *
Mom’s awake,sitting in the only chair in Dad’s room. It’s a recliner like the one in the pod. She’s got the thing extended as far as it can go and a pillow tucked behind her head. There’s a blanket thrown over her legs, but she’s wide awake. “Can’t sleep?” I whisper it so I don’t disturb my father.
Her voice sounds so tired. “I’ve been dozing. The nurses are in here every few minutes, so sleep isn’t happening, which is fine because I don’t want to sleep. I want to be sure I’m here when he wakes up.”
Dad hasn’t really woken up since the surgery, but that was by design. The docs don’t want him to wake up and jostle around too much. He lost the majority of his arm in the accident, but they had to remove more of it during surgery. His entire right arm is gone now. But he’s alive, and that’s all that matters. The rest can be figured out later.
“Did the cardiologist come in?” I’ve been worried about his heart ever since Mom told me about the CPR.
Mom nods. “They said his tests all came back negative. They called it an episode, and they’re pretty confident it was related to the shock. But they want to monitor him and follow up after he’s released.”
“That’s good news.”Suchgood news.
She nods, but there’s no relief in her face. “But there’s still the worry about infection.”
I nod because I listened to the docs as they talked about that. It’s their biggest concern right now.
“Once they’re sure there isn’t any infection, he’ll have to stay in a rehabilitation facility for some time afterward.”
“Why?”
“Occupational and physical therapy.” She sighs. “They’ll start fitting him for a prosthesis at the two-week mark, so the place we go to has to be a specialty rehab place. We’ll try to find one close to home because… the farm.”
I guess that makes sense. I know there aren’t any rehab places in Honeywell. I suspect there’s something in Emmetsville, but it may not be right for Dad’s situation. They may have to stay in Iowa City. I reach out and take her hand. “I’ve got the farm under control. No worries. I’ve already talked to Ben.”
Now she smiles. And her eyes start to shine. “Oh, honey, I know you’ll take care of everything there. Your dad can rest easy knowing you’ve got things under control. Thank you, sweetheart.”
“You can both rest easy. Dad taught me well, and so did you.”
Mom reaches out and takes my hand in hers. “Thank you, Izzy.” She wipes her cheek with her free hand. “He tried to teach you everything. He always thought you’d be a wonderful farmer.”
I’m not sure I can tell you what that sentence means to me. But growing up a girl in a man’s profession and hearing your father thinks you’d fit right in, well, it’s important. I’m prouder than I can say. “I’ve got it. You just get him better.”
Mom sniffles a little bit and squeezes my hand but then lets it go. “Go back to bed. You need your rest.”
“So do you, Mom.”
“I’ll doze. I’ll be fine, honey. Now go on.”
I lean down and kiss her cheek. Walking over to my dad’s bed, I do the same to him. I try my best not to look at the place where his arm used to be, but that’s silly. He’s alive and he’ll learn to live with only one arm. Sure, he’s right-handed but no doubt he’ll get used to using his left hand in no time.
Walking slowly back to the pod, my mind is on everything all at once. My dad, the farm, my job at the school. Should I resign? I think I’ll call Nan, our principal, tomorrow to talk things over with her. She grew up in the area, on a farm, she’ll get it. As soon as I step into the large room full of sleep pods, I hesitate. Getting back into bed with Nash is probably a bad idea, so I find the cupboard that houses the blankets and grab one. I’ll sleep in the recliner. It’ll be better for him too. Now he’ll be able to spread out on the small double bed so his legs no longer hang over the end.
My theory is a good one, because when I see Nash, I smile. He’s lying on his stomach at an angle on the bed now, taking up the entire thing. He’s snoring again, but that’s not what has my attention. It’s his ass. He’s got no blanket covering him, so his round bottom clad in denim is all there for me to see. Also, his shirt has risen up in the back, revealing his lovely, tan skin and muscles… beautiful muscles. I’d love to crawl back in there and run my hands up under his shirt, but that’s a very bad idea. With a sigh, I turn to the recliner and sit. Throwing the blanket over my legs, I find the lever and lay back slowly, attempting to be quiet, but the chair is rather clunky. Damn.
Lifting his head, Nash says, “Babe?” He has to roll over to find me, and when he does, he scoots over to the back side of the bed and pats it with his hand. “Come on, Isabelle. Get back in bed. That chair is hard as a rock.”
So is his body. I need to avoid it at all costs. I’m starting to lose myself in it. “I’m fine. You spread out. I’m good.”
“Honey, I won’t sleep knowing you’re uncomfortable.” He pats the bed with his hand again. “I’ll sleep better with you next to me.”
“Nash.”
He sighs and runs one hand through his adorably messy locks. “I’m sorry I did that earlier. It was a bad idea. It won’t happen again.”
Oh. Well. Wow. That stings more than I can say. But I can’t let on that it bothers me. So, I push the chair back to an upright position, slide out, taking my blanket with me, and I lie down next to him. “There,” I snap. “Happy?”
With his arm over me, he pulls me closer to him. “Very.”
