He is pale and fighting for breath when I get in. The hesitation between words is what gets me collecting our things before he can make his pride shine. Inside of forty minutes we're at the hospital and he is sent right up. Oxygen. Painkillers. More x-rays. Please don't admit him again, tomorrow is his birthday.
Finally the room clears. It has to run its course. He is healing, albeit slowly. Stop pushing so hard. Stay down. Stay quiet.
Almost didn't make it to forty-nine, did I?
I'll tell you tomorrow.
We're missing dinner.
I put my head down on the bed and he puts his hand over it. We'll reschedule.
I'm sorry, Peanut.
For what?
I was trying to impress you. I took a chance and it came back and bit me.
Why would you need to impress me?
You're my girl.
Impress me by being safe, then.
You're weird.
You're the one in the nightgown.
Hey, cut me some slack. I'm an old guy now.
At forty-nine? Yes, you are, Lochlan.
You make me feel young.
Could just be all that fresh newness on your insides.
Aye, it could be that.
