The uncharacteristic stutter caught Max by surprise. Uncertainty wasn’t Jed’s style. He said exactly what he thought or nothing at all. And though he had strange eating habits of his own, aside from poking fun at his ability to consume his body weight in pasta, he’d never taken much interest in what Max put in his belly.
Max considered the question. He should probably eat something, but a vague memory of his metallic-tasting dinner from the night before was beginning to filter into his brain, and he wasn’t in the mood to revisit it.
“Max?”
“Hmm?”
“What about meds? Do you have anything you need to take?”
Distracted, Max frowned and tried to remember if he’d taken his medication the day before. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I’ve got some pills in the locked box under the sink. Key’s in the fruit bowl.”
“The fruit bowl?”
“Yeah, I figured the kids weren’t gonna look in there.”
Jed smirked, but left the room without comment and he was back before Max could blink with the pills and a bottle of water.
Max reached for the water and swallowed the medication. He set the bottle on the nightstand. When he turned back, Jed was gone. Max considered getting up and tracking him down, but his wobbly trip to the bathroom put him off. With a heavy sigh, he admitted defeat, crawled into bed, and reached for the remote Jed had helpfully left within reach.
He was dozing through the secondYoung Gunsmovie when Jed finally reappeared. His hair was damp, though Max hadn’t heard the shower run. Max sat up and took the bowl he held out. “What’s this? Oatmeal?”
“Not quite. It’s congee. Asian porridge.”
Max took a bite of the rice, egg, and soy sauce mixture. It was good,reallygood, though he wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Jed hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he could cook rice a hundred and one ways. He was often cagey about his travels and his Army life, but perhaps without realizing, every time he cooked for Max, he revealed a little bit more. Jed’s version of congee was traditional Tamil food. Max filed it away in the ever expandingJedpart of his dysfunctional brain.
Jed disappeared with the empty bowl. Max heard him moving around the cabin, but it was a while before he came back. During that time, Flo took it upon herself to keep him company on the bed. When Jed reappeared a little while later, he looked as though he might leave them to it.
For the second time that day, Max panicked. He couldn’t bear the thought of spending the rest of the day on his own. He stared at Jed, hoping he could convey his plea without voicing it aloud. Jed had seen him dribbling on the floor, but a smattering of pride stopped Max asking him to stay.
Jed eyed him for a long moment, his expression torn, then he sighed and clicked off the light in the hallway. He made his way across the room, his limp more pronounced than it had been for a while. Max raised a curious eyebrow, but knew better than to ask.
Jed eased himself onto the bed and stretched out, pushing the comforter aside and lying on the very edge of the mattress. Max thought he looked like he was planning a quick escape, but he didn’t take it personally. The man didn’t seem to like his own bed much.
“You look better. Want to tell me what happened yesterday?”
Max watched, amused, as Jed petted Flo and she rolled onto her back and lolled out her tongue. She was as much under Jed’s spell as he was. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“You don’t remember?”
“Nope. It’s a blur. I know I had a seizure, but I don’t know when. How did I end up in your bed? Please tell me I didn’t drop in on you and start seizing?”
Jed glanced up, still idly scratching Flo’s belly. “Not quite. Flo’s barking woke me up. I found you in the boat shed. I don’t know how long you’d been there. You walked back to the cabin, but Flo led us into my room, and she wouldn’t let me leave.”
“How many seizures did I have?”
“Three, I think. A big one in the boat shed that I know of, and maybe two smaller ones on the bed? They came on pretty quick. I called Carla, but she said that’s normal for you. She said to take you to the hospital if you had another grand mal, but you didn’t.”
Jed’s voice was low and calm, and his posture on the bed remained relaxed. Max was usually alone when he woke up from a seizure, but sometimes he came round to find Kim in hysterics that lasted for days. A far cry from Jed, who didn’t seem fazed at all.
“Yeah, they come in batches,” Max said absently. “I’m sorry you got caught up in it. It’s been a while since I last dropped like that.”
“How long?”
“Six months, maybe? I try not to keep track.”
Jed shifted on the bed, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. His face was always weary, but in the dying light of the day, he seemed oddly alert. Strange, because, though Max had lost most of the day to a postseizure haze, he was almost positive Jed hadn’t slept at all.
“When did you swap bedrooms?”