Page 30 of Knot So Social

He cranks it tighter in warning before releasing me.

“Guess your concussion can’t be too bad then?” I mutter as I roll into an upright position, massaging my throat.

He glares at me, but his heart isn’t in it. “I said it wasn’t.”

I grab my bowl and shovel down more food, the easy meal meeting a need that oysters and smoked salmon haven’t been able to satisfy for months. “W’ens ya in’view?”

“Tomorrow.”

My noodles slop into the bowl, spraying hot droplets as I freeze. “Tomorrow?” My gaze flies to his bandage-covered arms. “Are you shittin’ me?”

He shakes his head.

I force down a groan. “Dude, your arms! You’re a mess.”

He glances down like he only just thought about his injuries. “Oh. This probably won’t look good, right?”

His crestfallen expression batters at the guilt already lingering in my heart. “Let’s ring Mom. She’ll tell us what to do and I’ll go to the store for you.”

His jaw works, but then he nods. “Okay.”

I dial Mom, more guilt piling on as I realize it’s been three weeks since I called home.

“Joel, honey? How lovely to hear from you!”

Just her voice makes me smile. “Hey, Mom.”

Jeremy hisses at me, wagging one finger and miming driving a car. I shake my head and point at the TV, but he crosses his forearms in a big no.

“Is something up?” Mom asks.

Mothers always know.

“I’m here with Jeremy.” I pop the phone on loudspeaker. “We’re hanging out and eating noodles.”

My brother leans closer. “Hi, Mom!”

“Wow, both my boys together. Sounds like fun. I’ll be right over.”

We laugh, since she’s three hundred miles away.

“Here’s the thing. Jeremy’s got some scratches on his arms, and we need to know what’s the fastest way to heal them up.”

“You okay? What happened?” she asks, striking fast.

“I’m all good, Mom,” Jeremy says, flashing me another meaningful I told you so look. “Just surface scratches.”

“Okay. If you’re bleeding, sprinkle cayenne pepper on it. Honey will deal with any infection, if it’s still raw. Otherwise, a comfrey salve or aloe vera gel. And drink some rosemary tea, if you can get your hands on it.” She rustles around. “I’ve got some here. Want me to send you a pack? Too late to send today, but I could post it in the morning?”

I glance at Jeremy, but he shakes his head.

“Nah, that’s okay. We’ll find something here,” I say.

“Okay.” Doubt darkens her voice. “And you’re really okay? Do you need me to fly up there?”

We share a grin loaded with years of memories. Mom’s a worrier.

“Don’t come, Mom,” Jeremy says. “We’ve both got too much going on to host you.”