by E. J. Noyes
“Thought of everything.” I fumbled. “But I can’t work it out.”
“Here, let me.” Fingers slid over mine then the mask was carefully slipped over my eyes. Something brushed my cheekbones.
I reached up to make sure the mask was in place and cautiously cracked open my eyes. Not a bit of light came through. “Thank you,” I breathed. “Sorry to take your sleeping mask.”
A low chuckle. “Actually, it’s my kinky sex game mask, but…whatever.”
If I hadn’t felt so fucking awful I’d probably have laughed and made some comeback. But all I managed was a weak, “Even sorrier then.”
“No problem. My mom had migraines, or still has them I suppose. I always remember being in the car with streetlights flashing by used to really get to her.” Brooke cleared her throat. “And I have a bucket, just in case. Hold out your hands.”
I did as asked and she carefully folded my fingers around the edges. Brooke pulled my heels off, replaced them with something soft. Slippers? The woman was a genuine saint.
“Bless you. Thanks, sorry for being so pathetic.”
“You’re anything but. Come on, let’s get you home and to bed.”
“Could you please get my laptop and handbag?”
“Sure.”
As I sat with a hand braced on the floor, the other gripping the bucket, and legs curled underneath myself, there was the sound of her quietly packing up. She carefully helped me to my feet, made sure I was steady and then led me through the office with her right arm around my waist and her left holding my arm to guide me. She turned out the lights and locked the door, the click of the switches and locks stabbing so fiercely through my head that I had to stop moving to ride out the waves of pain and nausea.
Brooke’s hand swept up and down between my shoulder blades as she waited for my brain and stomach to settle. She didn’t say anything, didn’t push, just held me close and kept up the gentle strokes. I breathed slowly. “Okay, I think I can move. If you help me.”
“I will,” she murmured. “Don’t worry, I’m here.”
Brooke drove home carefully, taking every turn wide and slow and at every one of my surprised or pained grunts, murmured her apologies and assured me everything was okay, we were nearly home. Somehow she managed to figure out my garage access card and then keys and whatnot for my front door.
“Alarm code is seven, two, eight, three, then press one.” I braced myself for the sound.
“Got it.” Quiet sound of the door closing, then beeps as she disarmed my security system. Blargh. Brooke kept her arm around me. “If you don’t mind, I’ll stay on your couch. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Don’t need to, is fine.”
“I want to. Please.” That single please was almost desperate.
I was too sick to argue, so waved my assent. “Guest room, first door on right. Bathroom next door. You’ll figure it out. Thanks. Eat and drink and do what you want. Can you get me to the hallway please?”
Brooke helped me get to my room, my fingers trailing along the wall the whole way, and guided me to my bed where I cautiously sat down. “This feels like a weird blindfolded party game,” I mumbled.
“Should I put up a poster of a donkey for you to pin the tail on?”
I huffed out a laugh, wincing at the immediate lance of pain in my head which was followed by a slow roll of nausea. I barely managed to swallow my groan.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Do you want me to call someone for you? Sabine or a, uh…guy friend?”
Eyes still protected by the mask, I held my phone in what I thought was Brooke’s general direction. “Sabs and Bec are working. Could you please text Sabs that I’ve been attacked, but you’re here and I’m okay? Need to keep phone on silent and sleep.”
She paused, exhaled audibly. “Of course.” Her fingers brushed mine as she took my phone from me. “There’s a bucket on the floor, and I’ll leave the doors open a little in case you need me.”
“Mhmm, thanks.” I kicked out of my borrowed slippers and tried to work my arms from my suit jacket, but with the general disorientation and uselessness only ended up getting tangled.
“Here, let me.” Brooke carefully helped me out of the garment. Hyperaware of every sensation, the brush of fingers through my jacket and then the bare skin of my arms made me shudder. “Can you manage the rest of your clothes?” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
“Okay then. Make a sound if you need me.”
“I’ll try. Thanks.” God I sounded pathetic.
Her hand gently touched my forehead and then was gone. When I heard her footsteps and my bedroom door creak, I clumsily undressed except for bra and underwear, dropped everything on the floor and climbed between the sheets. Sorry, face but you’ll have to cope with makeup staying on overnight. I rolled onto my side, slowly curled into a ball and begged myself to fall unconscious.
Chapter Fifteen
I shoved the eye mask up to my forehead, pushed the covers off my body and reached over for my phone. I fumbled and pushed it off the bedside table. Clever. The clunk of it hitting the floor sent a minor shockwave through my brain, but mercifully I was clear-headed enough to discover that it was nothing more than my typical post-migraine hangover. A little weak and out-of-my-body feeling, but pretty much lucid and pain free.
Brooke barged into my room. “You okay?” She slammed on the brakes, a cartoonish stop that would have made me laugh if I’d been more awake. Her spin around was equally cartoonish. “Shiiiitt, sorry. Didn’t expect the naked.”
“Not naked. I’m wearing underwear. It’s like wearing a bikini.” It would have been the perfect time to test the waters of my possible attraction, and of course I felt too fuzzy to make any sort of suggestive comment.
“Mm, yes, but close enough to naked.” She cleared her throat. “How’re you feeling?”
“Groggy, but better.” My voice was rough and raspy with leftover migraine fatigue. “How’d you sleep?”
“Really well, your spare bed is super comfy. I hope I didn’t wake you just now.”
I swung from the bed, testing my legs before I stood properly. Wobbly, but capable. “You didn’t. I dropped my phone. Would you mind picking it up please? I think bending over would test my limits.”
She turned around, very carefully keeping her eyes averted as she bent down. Sweet of her, but some distant, insistent part of my brain wondered if she wasn’t looking because she found me repulsive sans clothing.
“Thanks.” I checked my phone, grateful that my vision had lost the weird rainbow crystal effect. There was only a message from Sabs. It was a simple response to the message Brooke had sent—a thank-you and that she’d call when she had a moment. I scrolled up to read what Brooke had written.
Hi Sabine – it’s Brooke Donnelly, a friend of Jana’s. I’m with Jana at her place, she’s been attacked by a migraine (her words). She’s turned her phone to silent, but I’m going to stay here tonight to make sure she’s okay. You can contact me at any time if you need to.
She’d listed her phone number and the thoughtfulness made my eyes sting. I pulled on sweats, a threadbare Penn tee and my grandma cardigan. Comfort wins over fashion. “Did Sabine call you?”
“Mhmm, around ten thirty I think. I told her you were sleeping and seemed okay. She wanted me to go in and take a photo of you, but she seemed to calm down after I assured her a few times that I’d just checked and you were asleep and yes, still breathing.”
“Fuuuuck, she’s an over-the-top pain in the ass. Still breathing? Really? And doesn’t she get that any time doesn’t really mean any time?” My brain stalled then reversed back to Brooke apparently checking on me. The woman really was the sweetest thing.
“Sure it does. I said any time because I meant it and I thought she’d be worried about you. It wasn’t that late and I was awake anyway. She said she’s going to come by on her way home from work to check on you and you’d better be here and not at the office.”
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nbsp; “She’s so damned bossy.” Of course I had no intention of going in, and as we wandered to the kitchen I took a moment to send Kelly a text to let her know I’d be out for the day, to please reschedule my two meetings and deal with anything else that needed taken care of. There was nothing urgent requiring my attention and a day at home was definitely on the agenda. I nabbed the closest chair, sat down and pulled my leg up to rest my heel on the chair with my chin resting on top of my knee. “Thanks for staying.”
“You’re welcome, but it was selfishly for me too. I would have worried about you all night, being here on your own.” Her voice was quietly intense, almost protective. Brooke settled at the table, to the right of my usual spot, where a mug of coffee sat waiting on a saucer next to a used plate with knife and fork lined up neatly atop it.
I fiddled with the ankle of my sweats. “You’re a really good friend, and I know it’s weird because I’ve only known you for ten minutes.” Friend. The word still felt odd. I didn’t have many friends. Sabs and Bec filled all my important friendship requirements. Then there was that circle of acquaintances—people I caught up with on an irregular basis for drinks or whatever, but always kept superficial. And guys…guys were for dating. Aside from Mitch and his boyfriend, Mike, who were obviously off the menu, I’d never just had a male friend. Every guy was a potential partner and if they weren’t good for that, then they weren’t good for friendship either.
So all of my friendship notions left my relationship with Brooke in some weird, confusing gray area. She was a friend friend, but I was also attracted to her, but I didn’t usually do friendship with people to whom I was attracted. The whole thing was one great circle of confusion. I cleared my throat. “I mean, I’m glad you were here.”
“Me too.” There was the briefest moment when I thought she was going to say something else, something important. Instead, she flashed a smile and nabbed her mug. “There’s plenty of coffee, I wasn’t sure if you’d feel up to eating anything.”
“I think I will be, but not quite yet.”
“Do you want some water?”
I checked in with my stomach, and after mutual agreement that it wasn’t going to throw a tantrum, nodded. When I shifted to get up, Brooke held out a hand to stop me, and jumped out of the chair. “I’ve got it.”
She moved around my apartment like she’d been here hundreds of times, and watching her open cupboards and pour cold water from the fridge I decided that I liked her being there. She fit in my space and for the first time I could recall, having someone in my kitchen who wasn’t family didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, like they were going to put something in the wrong spot, or mess up my recycling system.
As she leaned over to place the glass in front of me, Brooke held my chair, her fingers brushing my back.
“Thanks.” After a cautious sip I nodded at her plate. “So you already had breakfast?” Egg and toast by the look of the plate. A quick check of the kitchen confirmed she’d already cleaned up whatever she’d cooked with.
“Yeah.” Brooke hastily gathered the plate and cutlery, the movement fluttery like a bird. Her gaze was fixed on the plate and like clockwork, her ear blush appeared. “Sorry, you said to make myself at home and eat whatever. I hadn’t had dinner when I called you last night, so…”
“I did say that. And I meant it.” I reached over to grab her hand, sliding my thumb over her fingers to make her look at me.
Finally she turned her attention to me. “I know. I just realized I kind of invaded your fridge and pantry like a kid come home from college.” She pressed her forefinger to the table a couple of times to snag crumbs, which she brushed onto the plate. “I should probably go home and get to work. Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” She added the mug and saucer to her pile then carefully pushed the chair back under the table. She reminded me of ten-year-old me at friend’s houses, overly aware of my manners.
“I will, yeah. Just going to bum around and probably sleep most of the day.”
“Good.” Brooke backed toward the kitchen. “Call me if you need anything at all. I don’t have anything on today so I can come back at any time. What will you do about your car?”
My car was still at work, parked crookedly as usual. Racing Green would have a heck of a time getting into his space this morning. Excellent. “I’ll catch a cab or something in tomorrow.”
“Oh, sure, okay then.” She opened the dishwasher.
“You don’t need to do that, just leave your stuff in the sink and I’ll sort it out.”
Cutlery and crockery clinked, and over the top of that came a muffled, “Too late, it’s done. If you decide you need a ride in the morning, give me a call.”
“You’d break your bus ritual for me?”
“Of course I would.” Brooke wiped her hands on a dishtowel then slipped out of the kitchen. It took less than a minute for her to gather her keys and handbag and push feet into her sneakers, by which time I’d managed to get up and meet her near the door.
There was no thought, no hesitation, I just stepped in and hugged her. She held me close, fingers massaging the back of my neck. “Rest up, and please call me if you need anything.”
I relaxed into her embrace, aware of the little sigh that escaped me when I rested my cheek against her shoulder. “I will. Thanks for everything, drive carefully.”
Brooke squeezed me gently, and then with what felt a whole lot like reluctance, slowly let me go. She softly thumbed my cheek, gave me a shy smile and slipped out the front door. And I stood rooted to the spot, my hand against the cheek she’d caressed, like a teen who’d just been kissed for the first time.
Sabine’s arrival just after ten a.m. interrupted my nap on the couch. She turned off my white noise machine and came to crouch in front of me. “How’re you doing, Jannie?” She kissed my forehead, smoothing hair back and tucking it behind my ears.
“Okay, just tired.”
“Any dizziness or nausea now?” Sabs took my hand, drew it toward her with her fingers resting on my wrist. Though she tried to pretend she wasn’t, I knew she was checking my pulse. Just as I knew that her forehead kiss had doubled as a fever check.
“Nope.” I rolled into a sitting position, grateful my body didn’t make a liar out of me.
“How’s the actual headache?” She cupped my face in both hands, thumbs gently massaging my cheekbones and her fingers doing the same just behind my ears.
“Very vaguely there in the background, the way it usually is after an episode. It’s fine.” I swatted her away. “And stop disguising a clinical exam in gestures of affection.” She always did that—she couldn’t help herself and just had to reassure herself the person was okay. And once she was reassured, she turned into Doctor Annoying.
She mmph’ed at me and pulled a small light from her backpack. “Look at me.” She clicked the light on and beamed it right into my eyes.
I scrunched my eyes closed, turning my head away for good measure. “Fuck, can you not do that?”
“Does it cause a reaction?” my sister asked, voice tight with urgency.
“No, it’s just fucking bright and not really what I want in my eyeballs the morning after a migraine, Sabs.”
“I know, sorry, but I need to check your response.”
“My response is not something you want to hear right now.” Cautiously I opened my eyes and pushed her hand out of the way.
But she was on a roll. “Maybe you should go for a CT.”
“As if.”
“When was the last time you had your eyes checked?”
“My eyesight is fine, I don’t need glasses. It was a migraine, Sabbie. You know, those things I’ve been having every few months for the past fifteen-odd years? Not a tumor, not a hemorrhage and not brain-eating bacteria. Just the usual things—stress, not enough sleep and too much time in front of a screen. Now put that medical degree away and make me a cup of herbal tea please. Then go home and go to sleep. You look like shit and you’re back on day shifts
tomorrow. You know how grumpy you get if you don’t sleep transition properly.”
She mumbled something under her breath that sounded a lot like calling me a mean name. “You had a headache the day before yesterday when we had coffee. You need to reassess your treatment. When did you last see your physician and specialist?”
“Sabs, I love you and I know you’re worried and trying to help but I’m not capable of taking in anything right now and I’m going to get snarky.”
“You’re such a brat.” She kissed my forehead again, then stood and made her way to the kitchen. “So Brooke stayed here all night? Sorry I couldn’t leave work to come help.”
I leaned my head against the back of the couch and flung my forearm over my eyes. “Yep, she did. And it’s okay. Our nation’s wounded heroes are far more important than my neurological issues.”
Sabs made a noise that made me think she thought her family was more important. “That was really great of her. I’m glad you didn’t have to be here alone.”
“Mhmm, yeah.”
“You hungry? Want me to make you something?”
I was set to decline and insist again that she go home and to sleep but my stomach chose that time to let out a loud grumble at the fact I hadn’t fed it since lunch the previous day. “Egg and toast would be great. Thank you, best sister.”
I curled back down onto the couch while she did her thing in the kitchen. The smell of her frying me an egg caused no nausea and I sent silent thank-yous to the migraine gods. My last one had incapacitated me for days and by the time it’d gone I’d felt like a hollowed out eggshell. It didn’t take long until Sabs asked, “Can you get up or do you want to eat on the couch?”
I raised my head to stare at her over the couch armrest. “I can get up. I haven’t had a stroke.”
Her stare would have frozen water.
I’d managed three mouthfuls of food before Sabine blurted, “So you called Brooke for help then?”
I blew on my tea. “Actually she called me about something else. It just happened to be at the right time to help me.”