“Four. Two Tylenol, two activated charcoal. The charcoal works wonders. I promise.”
The authoritative tone of her voice reminds me what she used to do for a living, how much experience she probably has with hangovers, and of who is really at fault for the bricks clashing in my head.
“You made this happen.” I point to my head and fall back down on the pillow.
“Nope. I won’t be taking credit for that. You did it to yourself. I merely gave you the information. You used it.”
She climbs onto the bed and sits beside me, her legs crossed. I read her shirt and laugh, immediately regretting the laughter. It makes my head pound.
“Your shirt is ridiculous.”
She looks down at herself. “I know. It’s not suitable for public viewing. I only wear it to sleep in.”
The shirt reads,‘Live. Laugh. Love.’The three words are crossed out, and below that it reads, ‘Don’t be a twat.’
“When is your birthday? Maybe I can get you a shirt that doesn’t have a cuss word on it.”
“I don’t have a birthday.”
“Everyone has a birthday.”
“Not me.”
“When is Elizabeth Montgomery’s birthday?”
“July 2nd.”
“That’s in two weeks. You were going to spend the day around me and not tell me it was your birthday?”
“I guess so.”
I shake my head. “That’s ridiculous.”
“How are you feeling?” she asks, changing the subject in the most unsubtle way.
I reach for Brynn, my arms encircling her waist. She scoots forward when I tug.
“I need help feeling better. Do you know what will work?”
“More medicine?”
I shake my head.
“Breakfast?”
“No.”
“Another nap?”
I’m done with words. I pull Brynn down on top of me and bite the same spot I nibbled on last night. She exhales and relaxes into me.
* * *
“Feeling better?”
Brynn’s sitting on a chair in her backyard, her feet curled beneath her. She looks peaceful and happy.
I’m in the doorway with a towel wrapped around my waist. I feel a hundred times better than I did when I first woke up. A shower and a nap were what I needed. And Brynn. She’s the best medicine.
