Belle’s face brightened. “Ooh, yeah. I forgot. I brought your morning mug from the cabin. I got it while Mom was chasing the chickens.”
The image of Kim chasing Max’s scruffy chickens in her designer shoes made Jed smile. “I have a morning mug?”
“Sure you do,” Belle said, earnest and solemn. “Uncle Max said you use the blue one in the morning and the brown one at night. The brown one was broken, so I brought the blue one.”
Jed took the chipped blue mug from her with a rueful smile. He hadn’t noticed himself falling into such a clear-cut routine, but he could believe it. Army life was all about structure and order, until you went to war and there was none. In times like those, comfort was often found in the smallest of things.
He picked up the forgotten plastic cup of cooling tea. “You got here just in time. Stay still.”
The tea sloshed messily into the blue mug. Jed mopped up the spilled drops with a napkin, balled it up, and threw it into the trash can on the other side of the room. Belle giggled at his perfect aim, but the concentration threw him.
He gripped the bed to steady himself. Belle peered at him, anxious in a way that made her young face too old. “Are you still sick? You look all funny.”
“I’m fine, bug. Where did you say Uncle Max was?”
“I’m right here.” Max appeared in front of him and lifted Belle from the bed. “Belle, your mum’s looking for you. Let’s go find her before she gets mad, eh? Can you take Flo back to Uncle Dan for me? He’s going to take her to visit the kid’s ward.”
“Can I go with him?”
“If your mum says it’s okay and Dan doesn’t mind. Go on, now. Say good-bye to Uncle Jed.”
Jed enveloped Belle’s tiny frame in his arms and squeezed gently. She was often aloof with him, and hugging her was a rare privilege. “Tell Tess I’ll be home soon, okay?”
“Will you be home before Daddy?”
“Probably.” Jed swallowed the lump in his throat. “Look after your mom for me.”
He felt a little odd when he was alone again. He blamed the lingering sedation from the endoscopy, a procedure he had little to no memory of, save a strange dream about Hector Valesco living it up in the sixties.
“All right?”
Jed jumped. He hadn’t noticed Max returning to his side. “What?”
Max rubbed Jed’s shoulder. “Sorry. I saw her sneak in, but I let her be for a minute. She was a little freaked when Kim told her you were sick. I think she was worried she’d never see you again.”
Jed kneaded a tender spot in the back of his neck. “S’okay. It was nice to see her. I miss the kids.”
Max set a paper bag down on the plastic seat and nudged his hand aside. “Here, let me.”
He manipulated Jed with the rough pads of his nimble fingers until Jed felt so boneless it was all he could do to stay upright. “Man, you’re good at that.”
“You should let me do it more often then,” Max said shortly. He trailed his fingers over the back of Jed’s neck one more time, then stepped away. “Do you want to lie down?”
“Nope.”
Max handed him the chipped blue mug. “Then drink up.”
Jed took a small sip, then, under the pressure of Max’s relentless, silent insistence, took another, bigger mouthful. “Happy?”
“You’ll do. I brought you some food, but the nurse said I can put it in the fridge if you don’t want it today.”
“Maybe later?”
Max didn’t answer. He took the half-empty mug from Jed and set it slowly and deliberately aside, as though he couldn’t quite remember what he was trying to do.
Jed regarded him for a moment, taking in his darting eyes. He took Max’s hands and waited, and sure enough, he slipped into an absence seizure. It was brief, mere seconds, if that, but it was enough for Jed to know Max needed to wind down.
“Come up here.”