Page 135 of Things I Read About

“Sal!”

When I can’t keep all the voices straight, I open my eyes and grab my glasses in order to see clearly them all, back in their positions around the bed, fresh faced and showered. They take turns patting, hugging, and kissing me.

“Dad took the guys to go find you some decent breakfast.”

“We found some,” Dad says as he pushes the door open. “You hungry, sweetheart? You feeling better?”

“I am, actually.” I smile.

“We found a few places that had breakfast still going. I got you egg white and veggie omelets, vegetarian meat pies—don’t ask me howthatworks—pancakes, waffles, just no fish breakfasts.”

I laugh.

“Is that a thing, fish for breakfast?” My dad’s face shows that he is deeply disturbed by this idea.

“Not for me, it’s not.” I comfort him. I stick to fruit for breakfast usually, although I’m curious about the non-meat-meat-pie now.

Susan and Sadie get busy laying out all the food.

“You cannot just have waffles, unless wait, are they protein waffles? Or protein pancakes?” Susan asks.

“Isthata thing?” Matt asks. Emerson’s face twitches as Dad looks between them, as if they’ve all messed up, big time.

“Suze, calm down, I’ll try the veggie pie thing.”

She relaxes.

“Then waffles for dessert.”

She sighs and everyone else laughs. Everyone except Kat.

“Where’s Kat?”

“Lucy was running a fever, so she rushed home this morning. She said she texted you and to tell all of us that it’s not an emergency, and not to quotego all Canton about it.She said she can be back in a few days if you need her.”

“And, Adam?” I hesitate, but I miss my brother-in-law, the man who is always by Susan’s side, always looking out for me. For all of us.

Susan nods, understanding. She doesn’t seem mad, thankfully. “He just dropped the kids off with his mom and then he’ll be on a plane.”

“Thank goodness. I can’t take any more of his worried texts. Most texts that man has sent me in twenty years.” Dad looks pointedly at Susan. She doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Ok.” I think about Kat leaving this morning. “Wait, what time is it?”

Susan looks up to the clock behind me on the wall. “Just past noon.”

“Wow.” I slept for over twelve hours. I guess morphine will do that. And shock. I wonder how long the aftereffects of that much adrenaline lingers in one’s—

Thud

“Aw c'mon, man!” I hear Shep, but I see Nate.

“I have to see her,” Nate says, distraught.

“Nate?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Sir, you can’t be up here.” A nurse stumbles in behind the two men barreling toward me.