Page 40 of Room 1212
“Oh, hush,” she said, but I could tell she loved the compliment.
“Thank you for bringing them today, Noelle,” I said, turning to the nurse with her hair pulled back in a tight bun.
“Actually, I came for myself today.” She reached into a bag she’d hooked onto the wheelchair’s handle and pulled out a copy of A Ballad of Thieves. “Can you sign my book for me?”
“Noelle!” Drew exclaimed from beside me. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”
“To be honest, I’m not. Sorry, Jordan, but I’ve always hated your books. Drew would start reading to the residents, and I would go find something else to do on the other side of the center. I couldn’t stand them.” She noticed that my lips had been turning down, and she laughed. “But this one,” she continued, “this one I adored.”
“Really?” I asked in a tiny voice.
“Yep.” She held out her book, and I loved how winning her over made me feel, no matter how small the victory. “But Jordan, there’s nothing wrong with your old books, you know that, right? There’s no shame in reading romance. People should read whatever makes them feel good, and the same can be said for what you write. Find what feels good for you, and even if you never write another romance again, know that your books will continue to bring joy to our residents for years to come.”
Davis chuckled. “Yeah, because we keep forgetting what happened in them, so when you read it to us again, it’s like a whole new book.”
I laughed along with them. “Well, I can tell you right now, you all make me feel good. Thank you so much for coming today. It really means a lot to me.”
“What about me?” Drew asked, leaning in and whispering so his friends couldn’t hear. “Do I make you feel good?”
“You make me feel the best of all.”
22
Drew
Iwasn’tsurehowlong I’d been sitting on the edge of the bed. I was folded over, with my elbows resting on my knees, my feet planted on the floor, head hanging low. My body felt like lead, my heartbeat sluggish.
I received a phone call this morning from Noelle. Kristoph passed away.
His death wasn’t unexpected. I’d been going to visit him at the hospital every week, and it was hard to watch as he lost weight, as he seemed to shrink down from his larger-than-life personality. Jordan even came with me a few times and read to him. Kristoph’s eyes always lit up at the sight of him.
I was going to miss that man.
Grief had a funny way of stretching time. Days, weeks, or months could fall away in the blink of an eye, while other times, a mere moment could feel like an eternity, until you woke up, only to find that no time had passed.
Jordan rubbed a hand over my back in slow, soothing patterns. I appreciated that he didn’t say anything, no meaningless platitudes, like, “He lived a good life,” or “It was just his time.” While they might have been true, it would do nothing to heal the raw wound I felt at losing a good friend.
I knew that Jordan wouldn’t be able to sit here with me for long. His bladder was the size of a pea these days, with space getting a little crowded in there. The baby was pressing on his organs, and his ankles had almost doubled their size, making moving around uncomfortable but sitting for long periods even worse.
“I’ll go make some coffee,” he offered, even though he couldn’t drink any himself. I had a long day ahead of me, and I would need the caffeine.
“Thanks, babe.” I helped him out of bed and watched him waddle down the hall, his belly swaying.
Life with Jordan had fallen into a natural rhythm. It was almost too easy, after how reluctant he’d been to try a relationship. I had anticipated months of wooing him, trying to convince him that our relationship would be nothing like his parents’, but in the end, no coaxing had been necessary. It was as if once I broke down his walls, any remaining defenses had simply laid down their weapons. He was the one who suggested I move in with him, since I was sleeping here all the time anyway. Meanwhile, I had been planning on sneaking my stuff over one article of clothing at a time so I didn’t spook him.
By the time I finally dragged myself off the bed and into the shower, I could smell breakfast cooking. I was normally the one who took care of Jordan, but today, it seemed he’d traded places with me.
The warm shower helped revive me a bit, but there was still a well of dread inside me. I wasn’t looking forward to the next few days. I knew the other residents would be hit hard by the news, so I was ready to give hugs, hold hands, and dry tears. Kristoph hadn’t had a lot of family, either—I believed just a grandson living down south—so a lot of the funeral arrangements would fall to me.
“Here, eat up,” Jordan said as I plodded into the kitchen. Bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, fruit salad, and coffee. How long was I in the shower? I had no clue how he had time to do all this.
“Where are you going?” I asked as he headed away. “Aren’t you going to eat with me?”
“Don’t worry, I snacked while cooking. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get dressed, and I have a few phone calls to make.” He dropped a soft kiss on my forehead before disappearing down the hall.
I wished he didn’t have to work today. He had a meeting planned with a new agent this afternoon, and he had not just one book on the go, but two. He had decided to continue writing his smutty romance, I think mostly because he liked reenacting the bedroom scenes with me, but he had also loved the way it felt to write something a little serious for a different audience. Being that busy didn’t leave a lot of wiggle room when it came to real life, though. I’d always thought being his own boss would mean we could sleep in every day and go out whenever we felt like it. But he kept a strict schedule for himself. He had more discipline than I ever could.
I was just finishing my breakfast when Jordan came back. He was showered and changed into a white button-up and some nice black paternity pants. “I wish I could tuck this in,” he grumbled, tugging on the shirt hem, “but then it just looks like I’m trying to smuggle a watermelon out of the grocery store.”