I pause, glancing back at her. “Fine. But if I’m telling you all that,” I gesture towards the bed, “we might as well get your bed bath done at the same time.”
She pulls a face, clearly less enthusiastic about that part.
“Multi-tasking,” I add with a small smile.
She sighs dramatically. “Alright, but I’m asking follow-up questions.”
“Of course, you are,” I mutter. “Let me get set up first.”
Ray is in the kitchen with Catherine when I walk in. They fall silent. They always do that, like I’ve interrupted something I’m not meant to hear, like they don’t trust me. Or at least, Ray doesn’t.
There’s a lot of that in this place—whispered conversations, half-finished sentences.
I push it aside.
“Anika would like her bed bath,” I say, directing it to Catherine. “I’m happy to do it, if that’s okay?”
Before she can answer, Ray speaks. “I’d rather Catherine help.”
Catherine sighs softly, reaching out to pat his hand. “Ray,” she says gently, “Wynter is more than capable.” He doesn’t look convinced. She turns to me, her smile warm. “Give me a shout if you need anything. Everything you’ll need is in her bathroom.”
I nod. “Okay.”
I don’t look at him as I turn to leave, but I feel his eyes on me the whole way out.
Anika’s bathroom connects directly to her bedroom. It’s large, though the harness takes up most of the space. Catherine explained the nurses use it every couple days to bathe her properly.
I fill a bowl with warm water, add soap until it foams, then grab a couple washcloths and drape towels over my shoulder before heading back in.
“So,” I say lightly, setting everything down, “I lived with my dad, Alec. He’s a firefighter. And his sister, my Aunt Lucy. She’s a nurse.”
Anika watches me closely as I begin.
“I grew up in Stamford,” I continue, “where nothing exciting ever happens, unless you count the gossip in the local bar. Affairs, scandals, that sort of thing.”
“What happened to your mum?” she asks.
I pause. “That’s another question,” I say, glancing at her. “I thought we agreed one each?”
“It takes my mind off you stripping me,” she replies, completely unfazed.
Heat rushes to my face.
She laughs. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. But it does help. Let’s be honest, no one wants to be wiped down in silence like a dirty surface.”
I huff out a small laugh despite myself. “She died. How long have you known Ray?” I ask.
Her smile softens. “Too long,” she says. “I had a massive crush on him at school. I was thirteen, he was sixteen, completely inappropriate, but he was the local bad boy. And you don’t care about the age difference when you’re in love.”
I grin. “And?”
She sighs. “Oh, I chased him. Hard. Until one day he pinned me against a wall and kissed the life out of me.”
I blink.
“That was the best kiss I’d ever had,” she adds, amused. “But it was never going to be anything more.”
“Why not?”
