It shouldn't have seemed so odd to awaken to a quiet boat, but it was. I had gotten used to a certain someone hovering in my face with a breakfast tray or a few bubbly words. Instead I awoke to the smell of the ocean, the sound of a jet ski, and an empty deck.
I wiped the gunk out of my eyes and pulled out my phone. The first thing I noticed was that the battery was almost dead. The second thing I noticed was that it was almost nine.
Now, nine isn't late. Especially for the old Nick. But, the sun had been up for quite awhile and I had slept through it even though it threatened to be a scorcher of a day. And, just from our short contact, I knew that Rosie was an early riser. The fact that she was nowhere around raised a red flag.
So, needless to say, I was concerned.
I untangled my body from my awkward sleeping position and stood up. My back ached slightly. I lifted my leg and scratched my calf with the tips of my toenails. After hiding my morning wood, I ventured down to the cabin.
The sun was streaming through the small window to the right of the bed. Light illuminated the whole room, including the small figure still asleep in my bed. Unfortuantely, I quickly honed in on the pained look on her face.
"Rosie?" I asked. I pressed my thighs into the mattress and leaned towards her. The ice pack had turned to water overnight. I lifted it and inspected her wrist and groaned. Angry dark purple bruises had combined with the swelling that had worsened over night. She was giving the Hamburger Helper glove a run for his money.
"Rosie," I repeated, this time more of a statement than a question. She groaned and I watched a flurry of activity go on beneath her lashes before she finally opened her eyes. When she did, the look of pain increased.
"Your wrist is worse," I said.
"It hurts like a bitch," she gasped. She held onto her arm as she sat up. When she looked down, I knew right away that this time she couldn't pass off her recklessness in her usually la-de-da way.
"Do you think I refractured it?" she asked. She looked up at me. I stared into her eyes; I decided to be just as honest with her as she was with me.
"I think you did," I said. "I'm going to get the GPS programmed for the nearest port. You need a doctor."
She gave me a look of pure gratitude. "God, I really am a pain in the ass," she said.
I smiled. "Yeah, but sometimes a little pain isn't such a bad thing."
Her delicate eyebrow arched. "You're smiling. And what you just said actually sounds optimistic." I shrugged, feeling a flush crawl up my neck. "I guess it must be the power of mama'o nani," I said lightly. "Just stay in bed," I instructed.
She didn't argue.
Tap. Tap. Tap-a-tap-tap. Tap. Tap. Tap-a-tap-tap.
Rosie was driving me nuts. I had directed the boat towards the first medical center my GPS hit upon. It took me exactly two minutes after arriving at the facility to learn that she hated hospitals. She was nervous, irritable, and overall edgy. After an endless wait in the waiting room, we had finally been directed to an exam room.
Currently, she was sitting on the exam table and tapping the toe of her shoe against the back of the metal footrest. Hence the 'tap-a-tap-tap.'
"Can I get you anything?" I asked. She stopped the noise for a second and looked at me suspiciously.
"We can get outta here," she said.
"Not until you get your hand looked at," I said. "I can't take you back home like this. Tito will kill me."
She lifted her chin a fraction. "Who says I want to go home?"
"Who says I want to keep you around?"
"Do you?"
Her question hung in the air between us. I suddenly thought back to my conversation with Brian. I had admitted she was nice for crying out loud! That was a big step.
Could I make another?
"Yes," I said. "I want to keep you around. If you're a good little girl and get your hand checked out."
Her eyes widened; she was right in the middle of getting ready to tap again when I literally saw her foot jerk away from the back of the rest.
"You're taking a chance," she said slowly, as if testing for clarification.
"I'm going to try," I said.
"That's very manly of you."
It was my turn to look at her in surprise. "Who said I wasn't a man before?"
"No one did! I'm just saying that was a very 'man-ly' statement. Not that you're not a man. I kinda know that because of yester--"
"Okay, okay, I get what you're saying," I said quickly before she gave me a recap of what had happened to bring about my little meltdown. That would be the quickest way to get me to backtrack.
"But, y'know," I said, feeling my ego rust a little. "I'm a very manly man. I scratch what I wanna scratch, I don't change my underwear every day, I brush my teeth only when I feel like it and I--"
"Nick," Rosie said, her shoulders starting to shake. "Stop while you're ahead."
"Did I prove my point?"
"Totally," she assured me.
I was in the middle of proving my point about scratching what I needed to scratch when the door opened and the doctor walked in. One hour and several x-rays later, we had the diagnosis.
"A splint," Rosie groaned. "For how long?"
"A couple weeks. By taking the cast off yourself you managed to reform the fracture just slightly. The splint will help the bone finish healing and it won't be quite as cumbersome as the cast."
Rosie scowled. "Great."
"This gives me a chance to take care of you," I said. She looked over at me in surprise. I smiled. "Since you've kinda been taking care of me."
Her gaze softened. The doctor slowly turned her newly splinted wrist and nodded.
"She's going to need a little assistance," the doctor agreed.
"I'm independent," she argued. The doctor took a step back, his mouth twitching slightly. I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut, but it just so happened it took one manly man to catch her just a minute later as she tripped off the table.
"Okay, so I might need a little help," she whispered for only me to hear. I nuzzled my cheek against her hair.
"I'll see what I can do," I whispered back.
"After all it is what the doctor ordered."
