“How long is a bit?”
“Before you’re at your new normal? Six months to a year.”
Whoa. Whoa, that couldn’t be… That was impossible.
“It’s a lot to digest, Neil. I know. We can talk about it when you’re ready.” Isaac was holding his hand, a steady presence while the doctor finished looking him over.
He nodded, then he closed his eyes. He was tired. Like to the bone he needed to sleep for a week tired.
“That’s a good boy. You sleep. I will take care of everything.” Guapo’s voice washed over him, echoing into a dream.
18
Isaac stepped out of the cab and stopped on the sidewalk for a breath as it drove off behind him. He’d been back at work a couple of days now; he couldn’t stay with Neil forever, he had patients—other people who counted on him too. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about leaving his boys alone all day, and it didn’t stop him from worrying either.
At the moment, they were in three different places—Alain had run home for a shower, he was arriving from work, and Neil was in bed. Still. And he felt like they were both so far away.
He could fix part of that problem by getting upstairs, so he got on the elevator and headed up to Neil’s room.
Neil wasn’t in his room, and he would have panicked if Mitch, Neil’s lead nurse hadn’t caught him. “Dr. Daniels? He’s having PT. Jack and Bryan have already sent up the SOS. He’s in a pissy mood.”
“Oh, shit.” He sighed, then shook his head. “I mean, thank you.” Why hadn’t he thought to stash some whiskey in his briefcase?
Mitch laughed. “No worries. He’s said worse today.”
“God. I am so sorry.”
“Hey, I can’t blame him. Everything he’s dealing with? He can swear all he likes if it helps.”
“Thanks.” He nodded to Mitch as he went into Neil’s room to wait. He’d make sure to put in a good word with his supervisor.
The bed had been remade, and the room was clean. On the bedside table there were two notes—one marked C and the other M.
He grabbed the M note, smiling at Alain’s handwriting.
M’sieur. Chou in a bad, bad mood, oui? I’m running to home for showering. I will bring good food in the truck. Love you. A.
He pulled out his phone and texted Alain.I love you too, little one,he said, simply. Good food would be welcome. He smiled at Alain’s thoughtfulness and put the note in his pocket, but it faded a little as he thought about what Alain had said, though. If Alain couldn’t cure Neil’s bad mood, he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. He was going to have to stay on his toes.
“Goddammit! Y’all bang me into the fucking wall again, and I’m gon’ beat you both senseless.”
Oh lord. “Hey there, Smokey. Let’s be polite to these people, hm?” He went over to help, giving one of the orderlies a wink.
“He’s hurting. I’m going to grab Mitch real quick.” He got a fast smile.
“I’m righthere!” Neil roared.
“Yep.” He let them go, pulled Neil into the room himself and dragged a chair over to be at eye level. “Hey. Boy. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m in the fucking hospital? Walking hurts, and it’s awkward? I have drains in me, dammit! I can’t sleep here!”
He nodded, making sure Neil knew he was listening. “It fucking sucks, I know.”
Neil’s eyes burned with pain and stress. “Take me home. You’re a doctor. Alain is there. Tell them you want me at the apartment.”
He was in his own sort of pain, seeing his boy this way. He swallowed and took Neil’s hand. “They’re moving you to a rehab in a couple of days, where you can heal and get stronger. I promise as soon as I can take you home I will. I promise.” If it weren’t for the equipment Neil was going to need to rehab that hip, he’d find a way to do it at home now.
Neil searched his eyes, then found whatever he was looking for and sighed. “Go home, Isaac. I’ll call you tomorrow.”