I sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes. Home, finally. A slow smile tugging on my lips lifted my spirits as her words settled over me.
“That’s my girl. Now go get dressed.” Hilary held out a pile of clothes and watched as I slipped my feet off the side of the bed but didn’t make a move to stand.
“Can you just shut the curtain? I’ll change here.” I motioned my hand to the yellow drape behind her.
Hilary turned and rustled it closed without a word. After she helped me shuffle into a white shirt and pink sweats, I was feeling more eager than ever to get out of there.
“Remember to continue taking the medication as needed for pain, and make sure you schedule an appointment next week to check your stitches. We want to make sure that leg keeps healing properly.”
The doctor whom I’d seen since childhood stood across the room and rambled on and on as I sat at the edge of the bed, zoning out. Anxiety set my nerves on the fritz, my hands smoothing small circles over the mattress I’d be leaving for good as soon as he was done talking.
Hilary squatted in front of me and helped me slide on my comfy suede boots, though my attention was not on her or the doctor, but Logan. He’d come in sometime during my dressing, and was standing near the door, jotting down endless notes on a small black leather pad as the doctor listed off instructions.
He wasn’t seriously going to visit me at home as much as he did here. Was he?
Hilary smacked the bottom of my shoe when it was on and stood, a smile lighting her face when she turned to Logan, watching him asking the doctor a question. Of course he was.
It was his car that awaited me outside the hospital, since my mom was stuck with a shift she couldn’t switch. After enough complaining, I managed to win a ride with Hilary.
I didn’t say a word when he made it to my house before us. He stood in the driveway, waiting for her car to stop.
After opening the passenger-side door, he leaned down, encircling his arm around my waist, and helped me inside my house.
“It has to feel good to be home. I mean, we can finally see each other past seven,” Hilary said with a laugh.
Visiting hours were no friend of hers. She tried to sneak in a couple times, but the nurses weren’t having it. Not surprisingly, Logan was there after visiting hours, meeting nothing but giggles and blushing from the previously grouchy nurses once he explained why it was important he stayed. I was a lucky girl, they said. If only they knew.
Before I could respond, Logan reappeared from his jaunt around the house, during which he’d surveyed every room for trip hazards and potential serial killers lurking in closets. He stood in the doorway to the living room, staring at me as I rested on the couch with a thin quilt covering my lap.
“Everything looks good in here, sweet—”He cut himself off.
Smart man. I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes at the television, and he knew why. I’d made it clear I was not his sweetheart, and he was not to call me so.
Not bothering to look his way, I replied, “Of course it does. Now you can leave and not bother coming back.”
“Cassandra!” Hilary gaped at me, appalled at my lack of appreciation.
Logan, however, seemed to have taken the jab in stride. “Right, well I’ll bring dinner by tonight. Let her get some rest. She needs it,” he said to Hilary, completely unaffected by my venomous tone.
I said nothing, expecting no less from him, since it was becoming our thing lately for him to hound me to no end. Being home reminded me of the last time I was there, dancing around, eager to wear my new party dress and confess my feelings to the man I was certain would be the last one I kissed on New Year’s.
My nose scrunched. The image left a sour taste in my mouth.
Ignoring Hilary’s pout, I picked up the remote and began flipping through the channels. Hilary, on the other hand, pushed off the couch with an exaggerated huff and walked Logan to the door, where they began talking in quiet voices.
“Thanks again,” she said as he stepped outside, finally leaving us alone. The moment she shut the door and turned back to me, I knew I was in for a lecture.
“Look, I didn’t want to press you in the hospital, but what the hell happened between you two?” She walked back to the armchair across from me.
I said nothing, eyes on the flickering screen.
“He’s just wants to help,” she added, her voice raising a pitch.
“Mm-hmm.”
She sat down and leaned forward, elbows resting on her thighs, waiting for me to explain myself. “He cares about you. You should have seen him the night of the accident. He was wrecked. I’ve never seen a grown man so broken. Maybe you should give him a chance.”
I looked up at her, exasperated. “A chance to what? Completely incinerate what’s left of my shattered heart? No thanks.”
Her posture resigned, shoulders slumping forward. “Whatever happened between you guys, he’s trying. He cares about you. He won’t tell me or even Caleb what he did, but whatever it was, he hates himself for it. That has to be worth something.”
No, it wasn’t. I shot her a look that told her to drop it. If only she knew. As much as I wanted to tell her, I couldn’t stomach the idea of repeating that night out loud.
I hit the channel button again and again before landing on a rerun of Sex and the City. Perfect. More women examining how much men sucked.
“Look, I’m not saying give him a chance romantically, Cassandra. Just maybe…I don’t know, try being nice, or at least civil. What happened to my sweet best friend who never had a mean bone in her body?”
With my eyes trained on the television, I answered, “He broke her.”
It was just past four when I persuaded Hilary to leave, and I knew it would be at least another hour or two before Logan came back with dinner.
I was finally alone in my own house. All I wanted to do was crank up the stereo and dance around half naked, but I was stuck on the couch, drained from pain meds. There was, however, one thing I was dying to do so badly that I wasn’t going to let anything stop me.
With a wholehearted grin in place, I wobbled around the house collecting candles, a lighter, and my cell phone, then stood in the opening to my small bathroom. The sun was shining brightly through the clouds, but with one tug of the blinds I was cast in a peaceful aura of darkness. I was absolutely giddy at the idea of taking a nice, relaxing bath…alone.
As I eased down onto the linoleum beside the tub, taking gentle care when I bent forward to plug the drain and run the hot water, I began lighting the candles that lay scattered around me.
I positioned them around the room, my limbs growing heavier with each passing minute as the pain meds began to take full effect. The scent of lavender filled my nostrils, and with the flow of water filling the tub, a calmness settled over me.
Once I slinked out of my clothes, sealed a clear waterproof bandage over my thigh, and poured some sweet vanilla bubbles into the tub, I was ready to climb in.
With a nauseated groan, I nearly bit through my bottom lip as I maneuvered into the bath, being careful not to slip. I propped my foot up on the side; even with the bandage covering the stitches, the less water around it, the better. The last thing I needed was an infection. Once I was settled and comfortable, I rested my head against the cool porcelain.
For once, I could just lie back and let the warm water soothe my sore muscles. There was no rush to clean and go, or a nurse bathing me with basin of water and sponge, or my mother sitting on the toilet talking to me as I sat on the handicap chair in the shower.