By Your Side(52)

He groaned and his eyes fluttered open. “Mom?” It was so good to hear his voice again after two weeks.

“Yes. Hi.”

“Can I get some pain meds?”

“I know you’re sore, but not yet.”

“No respect,” he said, and a small smile flitted across his lips.

I smiled too. It was the first sign I’d seen of Jeff being Jeff and that made me know everything was going to be okay.

“In a couple hours. You’re doing good. Down to twice a day.”

He nodded.

“Autumn is here.”

“Hi,” I said, and his eyes were immediately on me.

“Mom. That’s the kind of thing you lead with,” he said. “Now she thinks I’m an addict.”

“She doesn’t think you’re an addict.”

“No, I do,” I said.

He tried to laugh but it came out as a cough.

“Come and sit,” he said, pointing to the chair.

“Are you sure? You seem tired.”

“I’m bored. And since I can’t have pain meds . . .”

His mom squeezed my arm on her way toward the door. “Not too long. He really does need his rest,” she said in a low voice.

“I didn’t lose my hearing, Mom,” he said.

Mrs. Matson sighed and shook her head, but there was so much joy in her eyes.

I lowered myself to the chair by his bed. “How are you?”

“Pretty good. Did you see my cool new scar?”

My eyes went to his forehead and the pink line there that would forever remind him of this accident. “I did. I spent several days checking it out.”

“I heard you’ve been here. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

He may have thought he could handle a long conversation but his speech was thick and eyes were already becoming lidded.

“You need to sleep.”

“No, I’m fine. Tell me everything I missed in the last couple weeks.”

“Not much. A basketball game. A party.” Dallin accusing me of putting you in the hospital.

“Sounds fun.” His blinks were becoming slower, longer.

“You’re going to fall asleep on me.”

“I am,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be. I’ll come back.”

“Come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Dallin’s day.” The only day I didn’t want to risk showing my face here.

He reached for my hand and I provided it for him. “Come tomorrow,” he said like he hadn’t heard me.

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

He nodded, but his eyes were already closed.

I left the hospital room with a smile. Jeff was awake. My life was now back on my previously planned course.





CHAPTER 35


I was stuck in traffic outside of Salt Lake. It was only 3:45. I thought I’d miss after-work traffic, but it was going to turn my forty-five-minute drive into an hour for sure. I rubbed my neck. That’s when I remembered Dax and the meeting I’d set up with him. Four o’clock at the park by my house. I’d totally forgotten with the news about Jeff wanting to talk to me. Why didn’t Dax have a working phone I could call? I was a horrible person.

No, it would be fine.

Dax wouldn’t be there. I’d seen that in his eyes earlier. He wasn’t going to come. How would he get there anyway, even if he had wanted to? He had no car and didn’t know how to drive.

My dashboard clock said five thirty by the time I made it to my neighborhood. It turned out the traffic wasn’t work related at all; there’d been a big accident. I’d called my parents and let them know where I was and that I’d be later than I thought.

I slowed down as I drove by the park, just to make sure. At first I thought I was right and relaxed back into my seat, but then I saw a lone figure in a dark coat sitting on a bench by the swings. I gasped and pulled against the curb, shutting off my engine. He came?

The park was empty as I walked toward him—too late for the kids who normally occupied it. Dax was reading, lit by the glow of the streetlamp, and an image of him in the library came back to me so strongly that I had to stop for a moment. I shook it off.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

He looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine. He didn’t seem upset. “Hey.”

“How did you get here?”

“Like how did I come to exist or . . . ?”

“Funny.” I sat down next to him on the bench and he closed his book—still Hamlet—and set it beside him. “Did someone bring you?”

“I took the bus.”

“You took the bus for me?”

“I take the bus for everything, so don’t analyze it too much.”

“Too late, I’ve already analyzed it.”

“What have you figured out?”

“That I promised to teach you how to drive. I should’ve made it a rule.”

“You and your rules.”

We met eyes then, seeming to both remember the rules I’d made before: no attachments, no kissing. We were still good on both fronts. His gaze hadn’t left mine. Weren’t we?