“I’m the only one who’s sober and not pregnant. I should go,” she said.
Tom snorted, because there was no way in hell he was letting Rosie jump for the third-floor roof.
“Not a chance. I only get one Rosie,” he told her, wincing as the words left his mouth. He only got one, and he couldn’t blame a single other person but himself if he didn’t have her anymore.
When he made his way to the crest of the roof, he found Boyd happily hammering down corners of a loose tarp while lightning crackled in the distance. Even though he was yelling for Boyd to stop as he crawled across the slope of the roof, the other man didn’t look up until Tom was just a few feet away, and even then his expression only shifted to a genial, puzzledOh hey, you’re here too?
Tom opened his mouth to inform Boyd of the list of barnyard creatures that made up his probable ancestry, mind already moving on to what explanation he could give to Rosie about his roofing delinquencies, when a shingle that his left knee rested on abruptly broke loose. Tom made a grab for a nearby tarp to steady himself, but it ripped free as well.
Boyd lunged for his hand, but Tom was already sliding uncontrollably down the steep bank of the roof. It felt inevitable, not shocking. Of course this happened. What else had he expected? He heard the short, awful sound of Rosie’s scream over the storm and had just enough time to think,She’s going to kill me if I survive, and then he was falling.
23
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Ximena asked, waving her whole hand in front of Tom’s wincing face. Nearly a dozen people surrounded them in an anxious semicircle.
The rain had slightly slackened, but everyone was uncomfortable outside, Tom probably most of all, as he still lay on his back in the mud and dead leaves of the front lawn. Rose had put his head in her lap as she knelt behind him, but Ximena was the recent graduate of a pediatric first aid course and used that credential to insist that he not be moved until they figured out whether he’d broken his neck in the fall.
If he hadn’t, Rose was ready to do it for him. Watching him fall, catch himself on the gutter, and then slide painfully down the rainspout had probably taken ten years off her life. He’d scraped the skin off both forearms and given himself a large abrasion on one cheek, and he still hadn’t gotten to his feet. Her heart was still in her throat.
“Five fingers,” Tom said, the first thing he’d said sinceI’m sorry. “Which is always too many.”
“What day is today?” Ximena said.
“Oh come on, I never know that one,” Tom said.
“Guess.”
“I think it’s Friday.”
“It is Friday,” she said, sounding relieved. “I think he’s okay.”
“I feel okay,” Tom confirmed. “But I don’t know who you are.”
“What?” said Ximena, eyes rounding.
“Obama’s the president,Evita’s on Broadway, and we just got married,” Tom said, trying to look back at Rose. “Who are these other people?”
Rose wanted to strangle him, but her hands moved to gently smooth his wet hair out of his face instead. When he’d hit the addition roof, he’dbounced.
What was she supposed to do with this aching, painful tenderness she felt for him? She knew how to love him and not have him, because she’d done that for years, but how was she ever supposed to put away this fierce need to care for him? How did she put it back away if she lost him again?
“Tomasz Antoni Wilczewski, are you trying to make jokes right now?” she demanded.
Tom shut his eyes again. “It was worth a try,” he said.
He took a deep breath and flexed his stomach to sit up. When he pulled up his knees, he yelped and fell back.
“I think I tweaked my knee on the roof,” he muttered, clutching at his leg.
Rose groaned. He had rehearsal intwo weeks. She was going to kill him. She was going to take care of him and then she was going to kill him.
“Boyd, put him in my car,” she said. “I’ll take him to the hospital.”
Boyd, who had gotten off the roof as adeptly as might be expected of someone who’d done his own stunts inMeteor Man 2and3, nodded obediently and slung one dinner plate–sized hand under Tom’s shoulders.
“Wait, wait, not the hospital,” Tom said, holding on to Boyd with one hand and Rose with the other. “Just help me get inside.”
He balanced wildly on his good leg.
