Britches Get Stitches

by Elicia Hyder

  “That’s debatable.” I gripped the wall for support. “Mind if I lay down?”

  “Please. I’m afraid you might pass out.”

  “It is a possibility.”

  “Hey, Bodhi.” Kiara looked at him twice. Then back at me with questioning eyes.

  “If anyone asks…” I slowly shook my head. “You never saw him.”

  “Scandalous. You’ve not been dognapping again, have you?”

  “No.” I took a few deep breaths. “Police-sanctioned weekend visitation.” I finally turned to go back to my room, but my stomach lurched again. I dove for the trashcan in the kitchen. Not that it mattered; there was nothing else in my stomach to come up.

  Kiara was making retching noises behind me when I stopped heaving. I lifted my middle finger over my head.

  “Sorry. I’m a sympathy puker.” She hooked her arm under mine and pulled me off the floor. “Are you sure this is food poisoning?”

  “Could be the Ebola virus considering how I feel.” I hugged my cup of ice against my chest.

  “I got your text, but I was driving.” She helped me back to bed and put my ice on the nightstand. “We have a problem.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said with a moan as I rolled onto my side. Bodhi jumped up onto the bed behind me.

  “Look at this.” She turned her phone so that I could see the screen. It was a photo of a line. A long line at the front door of my store. “This is outside, right now.”

  “Holy shit. Are you serious?”

  “Yes, ma’am. There are about thirty people down there, and we don’t open for another hour and a half.”

  I covered my face with my hands. “What am I going to do?”

  “I can handle a lot of it by myself, but do you have anyone we can call for help? Your mom, maybe?”

  “Mom ate the same food I did yesterday. She’s just as sick.”

  “What about Margaret or Carla?”

  “Both out of town for the holiday. Monica can come, probably. Where’s my phone?”

  She reached for it across my bed. “Here.”

  I took it and looked at the screen. There was a message from Jason. On my way. Going to stop at the store.

  “Jason’s on his way here.”

  She turned her ear toward me. “Officer Eye Candy?”

  I nodded and swiped my screen to unlock it.

  “Oh no,” Kiara said, walking to my closet.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as I pulled up Monica’s number and tapped it.

  “You do not want that beautiful man to see you like this.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “Grace Evans, I’m pretty sure you have vomit on your shirt. Trust me.”

  I looked down, but then Monica answered the phone. “Hey.”

  “Hey. I need help. There’s already a line at my store. Can you come?”

  “As soon as I get dressed. I’ll see if any of our friends are available too,” she said.

  “Thank you, Monica.”

  “Of course. See you soon.”

  When I hung up, Kiara was going through my dresser drawers. “Where are your pajamas?”

  “One drawer down,” I said.

  A moment later, she carried over a clean pair of Abominable Snowman pajama pants and an old gray sweatshirt that would hang off my shoulders. “This is the best I could do. Can you get changed by yourself?”

  “I think so.” I hoped I was right.

  “I’m going downstairs. Davion is here setting up the hot chocolate I made this morning.”

  “You made hot chocolate again?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We buckled it into the back seat of my Prius.”

  I laughed, and it hurt. “That’s hilarious.”

  “Text me when you safely get changed so I know you didn’t fall and crack your skull open.”

  “OK.”

  She walked out of my room.

  “Kiara?”

  She stopped and poked her head back inside.

  “Thank you.”

  “You owe me so big,” she said with a teasing smile.

  I knew I did.

  I successfully managed to change my clothes and brush my teeth by myself. I was slumped over the sink the whole time, but damn it, they were clean. My phone beeped as I trudged back from the bathroom.

  It was a message from Garrett. Called the pediatrician. Taking Hope to the ER.

  I immediately dialed his number. “Hey,” he answered on the first ring.

  “Is she OK?”

  “She’s sick. The doctor’s just worried about her getting dehydrated. Better to be safe, you know?”

  “Do you need me to come over and stay with Gabby?” I asked.

  “Jamie’s mom is here.”

  “Oh good. How do you feel?”

  He groaned. “I feel like we’re ordering takeout next year.”

  “God, I know. Poor mom.”

  “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

  “Keep me updated,” I said.

  “I will.” He hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

  When I hung up, there was a message from Jason. I’ll let myself in if you can open your apartment door.

  Me: It’s unlocked. I’ll be in bed.

  I heard him just a few minutes later. I tried to sit up, but thought better of it. Bodhi took off barking toward the front door. It opened and closed behind him. “Hey, Bodhi,” he said.

  A moment later, he was in my bedroom doorways. His face fell when he saw me. “You look like a vampire.”

  I nodded against my pillow. “That was the look I was going for.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Enter at your own risk.”

  He carried in a couple of grocery bags and sat down on the edge of the bed beside me. Bodhi jumped up beside him, then flopped down across my legs. “I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I brought you fruit punch, mixed berry, and lemon-lime Gatorade.” He set them out on my nightstand. “Also, some ginger ale and saltine crackers.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a whimper.

  He put his hand on my forehead. It was ice cold. Then he laughed. “I don’t know why I did that. My hands are frozen.”

  I wanted to laugh but I couldn’t. “Thank god. I thought I was dying of a fever. Is it cold outside?”

  “I saw a few snowflakes on my way in. Have you been able to drink anything?”

  “I had a few ice chips. So far, I’ve kept down about two of them.”

  He grimaced. “Try some of the Gatorade. Tiny sips. And I recommend the berry or the lemon-lime…they won’t stain as bad if they come back up.”

  I nodded and tried to sit up.

  He slid his arm around my back to help me. When I was vertical, stars twinkled in my vision again. I rested my face against his shoulder. And he held me there. “You OK?”

  I nodded again, and honestly, could have cried he was being so nice. Finally, when I thought I could hold it upright, I lifted my head.

  He pulled back and pointed to the nightstand. “Which one do you want?”

  “Lemon-lime.” My voice cracked. “Please.”

  He picked it up and unscrewed the cap. “Tiny sips,” he said again as he handed it to me.

  I tilted it up to my lips.

  “Have you seen what’s happening downstairs?” he asked.

  “Kiara showed me a picture.”

  “You have to open the store. You know that, right?”

  “We’re working on a plan.” I took another sip of Gatorade.

  He stood. “I’m going to take Bodhi out. You good for a minute?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Come on, boy,” he said, standing up and slapping his thigh.

  Bodhi scrambled against the blankets to stand, then shook the bed when he jumped down. My stomach tumbled again. I put the cap back on the Gatorade and slid back under my blankets.

  My phone beeped. It was a text from Monica. Lucy is at her Dad’s, but Olivia and Zoey are both coming t
o the store. Then she sent an animated picture of Superwoman.

  Me: OMG. You guys are the best. I love you so much, Monica.

  Monica: I love you too. You’re just obligated to go Christmas shopping with me now that I’m missing Black Friday.

  Me: Of course I will. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

  Monica: We’ll all be there as soon as we can. I’ll come up and see you when I get there.

  Me: If you do, you can meet the hot cop. If he’s still here.

  Monica: I’ll be right over. ;-)

  I’d dozed off by the time Jason returned sometime later. One eye opened in time to see Bodhi do a flying leap onto my bed, landing on my ankles. “Oh,” I grumbled as he walked across the bed, jostling me with every step on the mattress.

  My stomach swayed. I covered my mouth and rolled off the bed, scrambling toward my bathroom. I refused to vomit in front of the hot cop if I could help it.

  I’d barely slammed the door behind me before I lost the little bit of lemon-lime into the commode. There was a light knock behind me a few seconds later.

  I reached up and flushed the toilet before slumping down onto the tiles with a moan.

  Jason cracked the door. “Grace? You OK?”

  I mumbled something incoherent.

  He stepped over me to get to the sink. I heard the water running, and a moment later, a cool cloth touched my face. Tears trickled down to the floor. “Want to go back to bed?” he asked softly.

  I nodded.

  He pulled my arm up and across his shoulders, then his other arm slipped behind my back. His strong hand gripped my ribcage, and he lifted my upper body off the floor. My legs were wobbly underneath me. “Can you walk?”

  I put one foot in front of the other, leaning heavily against him. He laid me on the bed, then took the wet washcloth he’d draped over his shoulder and laid it across my forehead. Using his fingers, he plucked a piece of ice from my cup and held it up. “I washed my hands,” he said and winked.

  I opened my mouth, and he slipped it between my lips.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He sat down, and the bed dipped under his weight. “I’m sorry you’re so sick. Just say the word if you think we need to go to the hospital. I drove the patrol car so we can get there in a hurry if we need to.”

  I managed a weak smile.

  “Bodhi and I went for a nice walk to the park and back. He should be good for a while.”

  The park was near the hospital, several blocks away. “How long were you gone?”

  He looked at his watch. “Half an hour, maybe.”

  “Thank you,” I said again.

  He leaned toward me. “Full disclosure, I didn’t pick up the poop either. I forgot to take the bags.” He put a finger on his lips. “Don’t tell anybody.”

  I chuckled, which triggered a cough, which triggered more nausea. With a pained groan, I rolled away from him.

  His hand slid down to my hip. Sick or not, I noticed.

  Thankfully, the nausea passed that time after a few deep breaths. He was still sitting beside me when the front-door buzzer sounded.

  “That’s probably Monica. Can you let her in?” I asked.

  “I can try to figure it out.” He stood and walked out of the room. “He—hello?” he asked eventually. Looking out the door, I could see him bending to talk directly into the speaker.

  “Hey, it’s Grace’s friend, Monica—”

  “And Olivia!” Olivia shouted.

  “Can you buzz us in?” Monica asked.

  “Uh…yeah. Give me one second.” He figured it out quickly and pressed the unlock button. It buzzed quietly. Monica’s and Olivia’s voices, their laughter, carried up the stairs.

  He opened the door.

  Their chatter stopped immediately.

  “She’s really sick, but come on in,” I heard him say.

  Monica tiptoed into my bedroom with Olivia close behind her. “Grace? It’s Monica.”

  I lifted a hand, then let it flop back onto the bed.

  She frowned. “You look like you don’t feel so good.”

  “You look like shit,” Olivia said.

  My lips cracked as I smiled.

  Monica took my hand. “You’ve got quite a crowd outside.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  She patted my knuckles. “We’re going to take care of them. You get to feeling better and don’t worry about a thing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It looks like you’re well taken care of.” She leaned close to my face and whispered, “He’s even cuter in person.”

  “Grace, you need anything?” Olivia asked, walking around in front of Monica.

  “I’m good.”

  Olivia laughed sarcastically. “You are far from good, my friend.”

  “How are you and Styx?” I asked.

  Her nose scrunched. “Taking a break. But that’s not important right now. You need to focus on getting better.”

  I gave her a limp thumbs-up. “Talk soon though?”

  “Of course,” she said and winked.

  Monica stood and turned toward Jason, who was standing by my dresser. “You promise you’ll take absolute perfect care of her?” she asked him.

  “I promise,” he said, smiling at me.

  “And you promise you won’t leave her side for a second?” Monica asked.

  Olivia leaned over me. “Like this side.” She patted the mattress next to me. “Like, right here?”

  “Oh my god, stop.” I pushed her arm back, or I tried anyway. Bodhi thought she’d been talking to him, so he scooted closer to me.

  Jason was grinning. If I’d had the strength to be embarrassed, I would have been.

  Laughing, Olivia took a few steps back and pulled on the back of Monica’s jacket. “Come on, Mon. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Thank you, guys,” I managed.

  Monica squeezed my toe. “Feel better. Please.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  She looked at Jason. “I’ll come check on her in a little while. My number is in her phone if you need me.”

  “OK,” he said.

  Monica waved one more time at the bedroom door, and then he followed them out to the foyer. When he came back, he got another piece of ice for me.

  “Sorry about that,” I said softly.

  “Why on earth are you apologizing?”

  “My friends…they’re—”

  “Worried about you?” He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” As I sucked on the piece of ice, he walked around the bed and sat down. Then he leaned toward the floor.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Taking off my boots.” He looked back. “I can’t let your friend down, right?”

  “Right.”

  Jason stretched out beside Bodhi.

  “Do you mind?” I asked and flicked my eyes toward Bodhi when Jason looked at me. “I gave up on the ‘no dogs on the furniture’ battle long ago.”

  “Not even a little bit.” He patted the empty space next to him. “Come here, Bodhi.”

  Bodhi gleefully commando-crawled closer to him on the bed. And he smiled and panted with joy as Jason raked his fingers through his golden fur.

  “Where’d you get the name Bodhi? Are you a closet Buddhist?” Jason asked rolling his head toward me on the pillow.

  I reached over and picked up the dog’s wavy blond ear. “Patrick Swayze, Point Break.”

  He chuckled. “The hair. I should have guessed. That’s hilarious.”

  “We’d always planned to get another dog”—I paused and took a deep breath—“a black Lab, and name him Johnny Utah, but this one”—I lazily tapped Bodhi’s head—“has been enough to handle since day one.”

  “Between the begonias and the criminal record, I’d say so.”

  Out of all the flowers in the world, how had he remembered that Bodhi had dug up begonias?

  “Mind if I turn on the TV?” he asked, pointing to the television on the dresser at th
e foot of the bed.

  “No.” I rolled to reach for the remote on the nightstand.

  “Stop,” Jason said.

  He scooted above Bodhi’s head, then rolled toward me and slowly leaned across me to reach the remote. Our noses were inches from each other. I held my breath, certain it reeked of vomit.

  When he had the remote, he moved back to his side of the bed. “Be warned, it is ninety-nine percent certain I will pass out. If I do, and you get sick again, hit me or something.”

  “OK.”

  He flipped through the channels for a while before finding the on-demand movies. “Have you seen Interstellar with Matthew McConaughey?”

  I shook my head.

  He clicked play, then put the remote between our pillows. Not five minutes in, he rolled over onto his side toward me.

  “You look like you’re already about to pass out,” I said.

  He looked at me with only one eye open and smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you OK? Do you need anything?”

  “I need sleep.”

  He pulled the comforter up around me. “Comfy?”

  I managed a slight nod.

  He yawned and settled back into his pillow. “Wake me up if you need me. Pinky swear?” He held his pinky up toward me.

  I lifted my arm to hook my finger with his. Then he smiled and draped his arm over my dog.

  And just like that, my heart did a somersault right out of the friend zone.

  I was up and down, back and forth to the bathroom for the rest of the morning. Jason woke up and helped me for a few of the trips, though I tried—against my pinky swear—not to disturb him. Finally, we both passed out for a solid few hours.

  Neither of us watched the movie.

  The buzzer to my apartment woke us sometime later. It was dark outside, which meant it could be midnight or it could be five in the afternoon (thank you, daylight savings.) It was the latter, just after five p.m.

  The buzzer sounded again, and Jason pushed himself up.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to sit up.

  He held up a hand to stop me. “Lay down. Don’t need you fumbling around in the dark, having a head rush. I got it. I’m a master of the intercom system now.”

  I smiled and flipped on my beside lamp. I was sitting up, sipping my Gatorade when he let them inside the apartment. Kiara came in first, looking a little more disheveled than she had that morning. “That was crazy,” were the first words out of her mouth. Then she corrected herself. “I’m sorry. How are you?”