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“Michael, do you want to come in here instead, or are you going to leave us girls to it?” his mom demands.
There’s a slight pause on the other side of the door. “No, ma’am.”
I smile at such a large man being chastised by a woman Helen’s size. Winking, she nods at the bubble-filled bath. “Let’s get you in.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lara
Sighing, I melt further into the hot water. Even after what must have been a good thirty minutes, the hot bath still soothes.
I hadn’t even realized how cold I was until I lay down. Bubbles up to my chin, I’m slowly losing the fight to stay awake. Even the pain in my shoulder, ribs, and ankle has receded.
“How’re you doing in there?” A voice sounds through the door, disturbing our peace.
Rolling her eyes, Helen lifts her head from the magazine she’s been flicking through, sitting just a few feet away.
After the first few embarrassing moments of a stranger helping me undress, where I prayed the floorwould collapse and take me with it, having Helen in here hasn’t been so bad. Plus, it somehow helped when she told me she’d helped Charlie, her daughter-in-law, bathe after she’d given birth to their first grandchild.
“No, I drowned her in the bathtub, Michael. I’m just cleaning up the crime scene.”
The door immediately opens, showing a panicked Michael. Concern is etched all over his face as his wide eyes frantically take in the room.
His face darkens when he sees his mother perched on the closed toilet lid and me almost entirely submerged.
“You’re not funny.” He glares.
“I’m also not incompetent.” Helen tuts, going back to her magazine.
Suitably chastised, Michael gives a cute smile. One that tells me Kaleb isn’t the only charmer in the family.
Glancing up, Helen scrunches her nose at her son, returning his smile. “You can leave us alone now, dear.”
“She should get out now. She’ll prune soon.”
Helen glances at her watch. “You go on and head to bed. I’ll help Lara.”
Michael hesitates, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I . . .” He struggles before dropping his hand. “I want to tuck her in.”
My stomach flutters at his words.
“You’re a sweet boy, Michael,” Helen whispers, ducking her head, but it’s not hard to see the way she blinks quickly.
“So?” Michael asks, tilting his head back toward his bedroom.
Helen doesn’t bother to look up from where she’s reading her article. “When she’s good and ready. Not a moment before.” This time, she does raise her head, her emotional gaze finding mine. “You ready, dear?”
“Nope.” I smile at her. Lifting my injured ankle out of the water, I wiggle my toes and roll my foot.
The room stays quiet, so I lift my head. Helen has gotten lost in her reading, while Michael’s eyes are fixed to where my leg just disappeared.
“What?” I blush.
“Nothing.” He grins. “Well, nothing I’m going to say in front of my mother.”
“Michael!” Helen and I chastise him at the same time, not so lost in her reading, I guess.
The three of us are smiling as he squeezes his large body out of the bathroom without opening the door any more than he has to.
