“Prudence?” He’s whispering in my ear. “Take another drink, honey.”
“Okay.” I sit up and drink whatever it is he wants me to drink, and I’m out again in no time.
Opening my eyes, the room is dark. The glow of the television is the only light in the room. I can hear people talking on some show, but the volume is too low, I can’t make it out. Assessing my current state, I realize I feel slightly better than I did earlier. Blinking, I recall Nate being here.
“Was Nate here?” My voice sounds hoarse.
“He’s still here.”
Crud. Rolling over, I wince. I’ve got a crick in my neck now. He’s sitting in my one and only side chair, television remote in hand. He probably hates my TV. It’s small compared to his big, wall-mounted flat-screen television at his place.
“Why are you still here?”
“You needed a nurse.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Don’t argue. Laura was here for a while, but she left. Says you should stay home tomorrow too.”
I’m not going to argue that point. I feel weak. “Okay.”
His palm touches my forehead, and he frowns. “Still warm.”
“I’m feeling a little better, though.”
“Good.” He’s up and moving in the direction of my kitchen. “Gonna heat you some soup. Chicken noodle or tomato?”
Neither. “Chicken noodle.” I like tomato soup but not right now. Pushing myself up into a seated position, I regret the decision. I’m dizzy, but I need to pee, so it had to happen. I wait a second before standing. When I do, I wobble.
Nate is next to me in no time. “Whoa, there.”
“I need to use the restroom.”
As I take my first step, I feel myself being lifted right off the ground. Nate has one hand behind my back and the other underneath my knees. “Nate?” I squeak. “I’m too heavy.”
“Bullshit.” He stomps around the chair and down my hallway to the bathroom. Somehow, he turns me enough to get us through the door. Gently, he sets my feet on the ground. “I’ll wait outside the door.”
Oh boy. I nod because I’m not sure what to say. After doing my business, I step up to the sink and see my reflection in the mirror. “Oh, lord.” I look like crapola. My hair is all over the place like I stuck my finger in a light socket. Dark circles under my eyes are so purple, I think I went three rounds with Muhammad Ali. It’s probably emphasized thanks to my ghostly white face. “You’ve looked better, Pru,” I mumble to myself, softly.
“You done in there?”
Opening the bathroom door, I hold my hand up to keep him from carrying me. “I can walk.” Except, I turn right, in the direction of my bedroom––my cool bedsheets are calling to me. Nate doesn’t say a word as he follows me. Sitting on the bed, I’m not sure what to say. “I’m going to lay back down.”
He gestures at the hallway. “Soup’s probably done. I’ll bring it to you in here. Why don’t you scoot and lean your back up against your pillows so you can eat.”
Good idea. Except, I’m not a bit hungry, but I nod my affirmative anyway. I don’t remember the last time I ate, to be honest. When he reenters my room, the scent of chicken broth wafts around me. It smells good. My stomach growls. He’s using one of my large cutting boards as a tray, setting it in my lap.
Looking down, there’s a small bowl of soup, crackers, the purple drink I started but didn’t finish, a spoon, napkin, and a box about two inches by three inches. “What’s that?” I point at the box.
“I saw it and thought of you.”
Part of me wants to hand it right back without even opening it, but I’m too tired for that. Instead, I pick it up and lift the lid. Staring down at the item, I can’t figure out what it is.
Nate reaches into the box and retrieves what looks like a bracelet. “It’s a bracelet made from a bicycle spoke.”
“Really?” I reach for it to get a closer look just as he brings it closer.
“You said biking makes you feel alive.” He holds up the bracelet. “Let this be a reminder every day.” He points at the latch on the bracelet. “See. That little peg is what goes into your rim. They created a loop as a latch that will clip onto that peg.” He chuckles. “Clever, right?”
