“Good.” She trotted out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and a bottle of pills. “Take one and get some rest. I’ll be out in the living room if you need me.”
Like he’d need her. He tried to take off his shirt. Ow! Okay, take the pill first, then tackle his clothes. On second thought, they weren’t bothering him too much. A blanket would be nice. But impossible without help.
Ah, home in his own bed. Alone. With too much time to blame himself.
He took the pill. He’d hunker down in guilt later.
No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get comfortable.
Johnson wanted to be friends? What use were friends if he didn’t intend to use them? “Hey, Jo… Rett! I could use some help here!”
The woman who’d waltzed into his life, too stubborn to leave, came charging in. “What you need?”
“Help getting undressed, just don’t stare at my junk, okay?”
Her lips twitched. “I’ll do my best to restrain myself.”
True to her word, she didn’t linger and worked with efficient motions. She didn’t even gasp at the Steri-Strip covered incision—much. “When do those come off?”
“When they fall off.” Like hell would Lucky try to peel the damned things off again. Holy crap! Felt like being ripped back open.
“What did the doctor say?” Trust Johnson to go all Mom on him.
“The internal sutures dissolve on their own. Leave the Steri-Strip at least seven days. The operative words there are ‘at least.’”
Rett stepped back, palms out. “Okay, okay. I get it. Don’t touch your ouchie.”
“Damn straight.”
She pulled the covers up to Lucky’s chin. “Tuck, tuck, tuck.”
“What the hell?”
“It’s what I tell Tyrone when I tuck him in at night. Makes him giggle. You settled now?”
“Yeah. But you go on home to your kid. I don’t need any more help.”
“Says the man who couldn’t get his shirt off. Look, they cut you open a week ago. I can stick around for a few hours. Granny has Tyrone.” She strode toward the door. “I’ll be on the couch whether you like it or not.”
“Rett?”
“Now I done told you—”
“The guest room is made up. Might as well get what sleep you can.”
She nodded and turned out the light. The door snicked shut.
In a bed, all by himself, without even Moose and Cat Lucky for company, and no telling when Bo might get to come home.
But Lucky wasn’t by himself. Not really. He had Bo, Rett, and Walter.
And also Mom, Charlotte, and Daytona.
He could live without Bristol.
***
Lucky sat at the kitchen table. Again. Alone. The neighbor’s lawnmower buzzed next door—for the third time this week.
