And, true to his word, Jake immediately said, “Okay, that’s okay,” and he straightened up and pushed his chair back a bit, as though wanting to make sure Rye understood he wasn’t going to go against Rye’s wishes. A minute later, Jake had packed his first aid kit back up and was standing slowly. “I’m heading to bed after I give Sue a call to update her. But there’s more cookies on the table if you get hungry. I know you didn’t finish dinner, so feel free to help yourself.”
Rye kind of nodded, or he tried to, and Jake responded with another of those soft, kind smiles that made Rye hope, again, that everything Jake was telling him was actually the truth. That his promises were actually real. That Rye was actuallysafe.
And he was struck by a strong urge to tell Jakethank youbecause Jake really had been nothing but kind and gentle.
But Rye said nothing, his chest too tight and the pain in his side now throbbing. Instead, he closed his eyes and turned onto his side, facing away from Jake. And he tried not to tense as he listened to Jake shuffle away, his steps uneven and slow.
Quiet words from the doorway echoed through the room. Something like, “Good night. I hope you sleep well.” Then the lights switched off, and Rye’s whole body stiffened. Only, not half a second later, Jake spoke again.
“Oh, sorry, did you want the lights on? I can leave them on if you want.”
The lights turned back on with a quick click, and Rye let out the breath he’d been holding, unable to keep it from shuddering.
“There we go. Better?”
Yes. Thank you.
Somehow, he managed a small nod, though he wasn’t really sure Jake would be able to see it, since he’d pulled the blanket up high again. He swallowed and let out a short breath. “Th-thank you.”
There was a full second of silence this time. Then Jake murmured, “Of course, of course. You’re welcome... Good night.”
And the footsteps shuffled away, leaving Rye alone.
Chapter Thirteen
Jake
“Pleasetellmeyou’rekidding, Tim. Another week? I can’t . . . I really need—” Jake sighed and reached up to rub the bridge of his nose.
From the other end of the line, Tim Meleany’s voice sounded dismissive as he said, “Nope, not kidding. Thursday at the earliest, but more likely not until Saturday or Sunday. That’s what the guys are telling me now. They thought they’d have it done sooner, but they underestimated the damage the storm did. Plus we’re supposed to be getting more rain coming in this afternoon. Is what it is.”
Is what it is.
“Right. Okay. Thanks for the call,” Jake said, trying to sound sincere.
“No problem. Have a good day.”
The line went silent, and Jake pressed the red button on his phone to end the call and then screwed his eyes shut as he leaned heavily on the railing out on his patio.
It wasn’t the first disappointment of his Monday morning, but it was maybe the one that stung the most. Without the road being fixed, he had no way to get to town. No way to get help for his houseguest. No way to get help forhimself. And what he really, really needed was pain relief, first and foremost.
His leg was getting worse, and he hadn’t slept much, again. He hadn’t been able to get comfortable all night long. Even lying down, even with his weight off his leg for hours, it still ached—this deep, intense pain that just radiated down to his toes and up into his hip. He needed medication and his physical therapist, at minimum. He’d called Cora first thing when he’d finally decided to get out of bed. Partly he’d just needed to talk to her, make sure this wasn’t some emergency, like a blood clot or something else, and that he didn’tactuallyneed to call the coast guard to come out and get him to a hospital right away. She’d answered—despite the early hour—and had talked him down, assuring him that it didn’t sound like anything too serious. However, when he’d mentioned wanting to schedulean appointment for as soon as the road was passable, she’d admitted she was on her way to Sacramento to catch an airplane to New York because of a family emergency. She wasn’t expecting to be back in town for at least a week, maybe two.
So that had been a bust.
After they’d hung up, he’d moped around for a bit, only half-heartedly attempting his exercises. But it was too much today, even for his stubborn self. As soon as he’d lowered himself onto the carpet in the living room to get started, his muscles had seized up again, just as they had the day before. Only this time, the pain hadn’t faded. He’d sat there for longer than he cared to admit, rubbing his leg and waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And when he’d finally run out of patience, he’d gritted his teeth, pushed himself back to his feet, and—somehow—managed to hobble over to the couch to sit back down and prop up his leg.
Then he’d called his doctor.
Then the pharmacy.
His doctor didn’t have any appointments available until next week, and the pharmacy hadn’t yet been able to fill his prescription.
Not that it mattered anyway, since he had no way to get into town because of the damn road.
Jake straightened up, gritted his teeth, and stared out at the ocean. Clouds darkened the horizon, and they seemed to be moving inland slowly. Maybe they held the rain Tim had said was predicted for this afternoon.
Either way, he was fucked. And he needed to sit back down. The five minutes or so he’d been standing was already too much. He hadn’t even eaten yet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He also wasn’t sure he’d even be able to. But his houseguest needed to eat...
