Page 23 of Their Stormy Reunion

He squinted up at me. “Why?”

Aw, to hell with it. He was always blunt. “There’s a little bit of a sickroom odor in here. I just think if we opened a window for a little bit, it would freshen things up.”

He wilted. I couldn’t believe it, I saw him pull into himself, his shoulders shrank, and his head sank down until I couldn’t see his neck. It was as if he were a turtle.

“Are you saying it stinks in here?” This time his voice quavered.

“No, I didn’t say it stinks. I’m just saying it doesn’t smell fresh, is all.”

He stared at me for long moments. “In that case, open both windows all the way. Open up the curtains, make sure we get a cross-breeze.”

“First, let me get you another blanket, before we do that. I’ll even see if I can rustle up two.”

I headed out the door and went into the empty bedroom. I could swear that Mom had a couple of bins in the closet with more bedding to go on the third guest bed. Not that she’d ever had two guests come and stay. I took a sniff in this room and figured it could use a good airing out too, so I opened two windows before opening the tote bins and grabbing the blankets for Dad.

When I got back to his room he was pushing himself up on his elbows, straining to sit up against his pillows.

“Do you need some help?”

“I’ve got it,” he snarled.

Yep, there’s the Dad I know and love.

“I’ve got your blankets.”

“Put them on the end of the bed, I don’t need them now.”

I sighed. “Is there anything I can get you to eat?”

“I’m fine.”

I turned my head and walked over to the window so I wasn’t watching him struggle to sit up. I knew that would only piss him off more. I watched a robin hop from branch to branch in one of our trees.

“Actually, food would be good.”

I turned around and saw that he’d pushed himself up so that he was resting against two pillows and the headboard.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat?”

He gave me a crooked grin. “How about a bacon cheeseburger from Pearl’s.”

I barked out a laugh. “Uhm. No. Try again.”

“Soup would be good. But not that godawful pea soup your mother likes, that shit is nasty. Chicken noodle.”

I agreed with him, pea soup was nasty. “Anything else?”

“Buttered crackers? Maybe some juice?”

“What kind of juice?”

“Apple.”

“Give me ten minutes to warm up the soup, and I’ll bring it all in.” I smiled. Now that he wasn’t growling I figured I could try with the blankets again. “Are you sure you don’t want the blankets covering you up?”

He shivered.

“Yeah, I’ll take just one blanket for now.”