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“I have you forhoursStefan. Just sit here and let me be indecisive. If you want to be helpful, pick a movie we can watch.”
“Which one?”
“You’re impossible. Just pick a movie.”
While Francine discusses the pros and cons of each donut with Stevie, I pull up a streaming service and search for one of my favorite movies. A romantic comedy with Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan. Two friends who find every reason to say they don’t belong together, until finally,finally…
“Maple bar. I’ll have the other one for breakfast.”
“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” I ask, holding her as close as I can. “The offer still stands for tea.”
“I have water. But thank you.” She turns her upper body around and kisses my cheek. As the opening montage of the movie starts, the donut box is abandoned as I meet her lips with mine, deepening the kiss. Stevie huffs and hops off of Francine’s lap, making it much easier for our bodies to press together, and our arms to wrap around each other. So much for the movie.
CHAPTER 14
ONE DAY
FRANCINE
Stefan and Stevieare snoring on the couch as the credits roll on the movie. I nudge Stefan, hoping to wake him, but all he does is snore a little louder and shift beside me. Stevie wakes up with a stretch and a yawn, looking at me with her big, dark eyes, and startling when Stefan snores again.
“He’s your human,” I tell her, gently removing myself from the couch so I can take her outside. “You wake him up.”
Stevie sniffs as we step into the cold night air, and she makes quick work of her business before scrambling to get back inside. Stevie isn’t fond of cold air, and to warm herself up she runs a few laps inside the house, ending with a running leap onto the couch where she settles against Stefan’s side.
Plucking the remote from Stefan’s hand, I scroll through his streaming services and find a hockey game being played on the west coast. Turning it on and turning off the lights in the living room before settling onto the couch beside him again. Pulling a blanket over both of us, I lay my head on his shoulder with a content sigh as Stevie curls up even tighter between us.
“G’night Stevie,” I whisper, my fingers buried in her soft fur. “G’night Stefan.”
“Night Stats,” Stefan’s eyes slowly blink open and he draws me in for a slow, soft kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
When I open my eyes again, sunlight streams in through the sliding glass door in Stefan’s living room, offering a view of the sparkling waters of Lake St. Clair. Stevie is curled up beside me and Stefan moves quietly through the kitchen.
“Morning Stevie,” I whisper, petting her soft fur. “What’s your dad up to?”
“Fixing breakfast,” Stefan calls softly from the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” I test my knee, bending and extending just as I was told in the instructions my surgeon sent home with me. “I need to try and walk around a bit today.”
“I can help with that.” Stefan comes into the living room, handing me a cup of coffee as he sits down beside me on the couch. “It’s supposed to be warm today if you want to try and take a walk outside.”
“I’ll let you know,” I test the bend of my knee again. “For now, I’d like to just be able to get down the hall.”
Stefan hovers as I push up from the couch, testing my weight without the help of my crutches, and carefully step down the hall toward the bathroom.
“Stefan,” distributing my weight evenly, and standing fully on both feet for the first time in a few weeks, I rest my hands on his shoulders, “I know you mean well. But I have to do this alone.”
“I’m here if you need me.”
“I know. And I appreciate that.”
Rachel hovered last night, too. It’s nice to know I’m taken care of. Nice to know that my people love me. But there are some things I need to be allowed to do by myself and this is one of them. The pain in my knee is gone, replaced with soreness, and tenderness underneath the dressings that cover my incisions. It’s a different sensation than the paininmy knee prior to surgery. I take my time with my morning routine, carefully testing my weight on my knee and gingerly walking back out to the living room where Stefan is waiting with a fresh ice pack and a plated donut.
“Breakfast,” he passes me the plate once I’m settled and my leg is propped back up, the ice pack arranged over the top of my knee and soothing some of the discomfort. “And coffee.”
“Thank you.”
