One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(85)

“He’s sick, Lee. Really sick. I owe this to him. To make him comfortable. To make him happy. He deserves that.”

“But, Imogen, I don’t know—”

“I know how this sounds. I know what you’re going to say. But Lee, how could I not? I found him in that hospital bed and I just knew this was my chance. His chance.”

Lee took my hands and looked at me intently. “It sounds like what you and Yoss experienced together was hard. It occurred during an unstable time in your life and you clung to each other and your relationship. It makes sense that, because you had a lack of closure, you’d want to reconnect with him. To reestablish a connection you once had. But, be careful. This has all the earmarks of a tragedy, Im.”

There was an audible cough from behind us and I startled. I glanced over my shoulder to find Yoss standing in the doorway, his hair wet and sticking out on top of his head. The growth on his chin was becoming thick again. He needed another shave. I didn’t like his face being covered up like that.

How much had he overheard? It was hard to tell. His face was unreadable.

“How was your shower?” I asked him. How was your shower? What sort of question was that?

“Wet,” Yoss said, giving me a wry smile.

“Oh, well that’s good,” I replied lamely. “I mean who likes a dry shower? Is there such a thing? I don’t think so.” I chuckled. I sounded idiotic.

Yoss arched an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a dry shower.”

Lee looked amused by my verbal diarrhea. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ramble like that before, Im,” he teased.

“Really? I seem to remember her unfiltered mouth all too well,” Yoss interjected.

Lee smirked. “Well it seems we know two very different people. I’m interested to know more about your Im though.”

“Hey, Lee, I bet Kevin’s home and wondering where you are.”

Lee gave me a pointed look, but pulled out his phone. “Three missed calls. He’s probably close to a fit. I’d better get home.”

“Yep, you’d better hurry,” I said.

Lee held out a hand to Yoss who shook it. “It was nice meeting you, Yoss. I hope we can talk more soon. I’m sure you’re full of embarrassing Im stories that I’m dying to hear.”

Yoss laughed. “I can think of one or two.”

“I am standing right here, you know. At least conspire behind my back like normal people,” I muttered.

“Touchy, touchy,” Lee tsked, pulling me in for a hug. “Be careful, darling,” he whispered into my ear.

“Okay, I’m leaving you with the clean-up, “ Lee said a little louder and I rolled my eyes.

“Of course you are.” I gave him a gentle push towards the door.

“I’m the cook, not the dishwasher. I thought we established these rules years ago.” Lee opened the kitchen door and with a final wave left Yoss and me to our not quite comfortable co-existence.

Yoss picked up the rest of the dishes and put them in the sink, turning on the water.

“I can do that—” I started to say.

“I’m sure you have to get ready for work. I can take care of this. I’ve got to earn my keep somehow,” Yoss interrupted.

“Well, I do have a dishwasher,” I pointed out.

“I like the process, makes me feel useful.” Yoss shrugged. “But if you want me to use the dishwasher—”

“No. You can wash the dishes however you want to. Thanks,” I said quickly.

I stood watching him systematically clean the plates and pans. His wet hair was drying and hung in his eyes. His skin was still jaundiced but his eyes were clearer this morning. The dark circles gone.

“How did you sleep?” I asked him, remembering his nightmares from the night before. I had stood outside his door for almost a half an hour, only going back to bed after he had quieted down and I was sure he wouldn’t start cry out again.

“Not bad. The bed is really comfortable. It’s been a while since I’ve slept on high thread count sheets.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He handed me a clean plate and I put it in the rack to dry. “We should probably look into getting you some clothes,” I suggested.

“I was thinking of going back to the house where I was staying to get my things today.” He paused for a moment, glancing at me, his green eyes hesitant. “That is if I can still stay here.”

I put my hand on his arm. He tensed. Muscles coiling, contracting. Wanting to pull away.

“Of course you can. I want you here, Yoss,” I said softly.

He dipped his hands back in the soapy water and started scrubbing the pan Lee used to make omelets.

“I like Lee. He’s nice,” Yoss said.

“He’s a therapist. He’s trained to make you think that,” I remarked with a smile.

“Well whatever, I’m just glad you have people like him in your life.”

“I was actually thinking you might want to talk to him sometime,” I began. Yoss frowned.

“I was just talking to him,” he pointed out.

“I mean about your situation. With your illness. Dr. Howell had made the suggestion that you speak to a counselor and Lee is great. He has a lot of experience working with end of life patients.”