They kept Tris in the infirmary overnight because she was having some trouble breathing. They said I could pick her up at noon. The nurse said I had to keep her comfortable and since I had no idea what that actually meant, I asked the one person who would know for sure – Zeke's mom. She's the kind of mom everyone wished they had. She's funny and caring and warm but shakes her finger at you when you deserve it. She told Zeke to give her my keys and she would take care of everything while I went to pick Tris up.
The nurse gives me instructions on what to do if she's having trouble breathing again. When we leave, I wrap my arm around Tris' waist to help her walk. I take it really slow. We get about thirty feet and she stops suddenly.
"Are you okay? Are we walking too fast?" I ask.
"Yeah, we're walking too fast…..if I was eighty," she whispers. "My legs are fine; it's just my throat and my head that hurt."
I furrow my brow. "Too much?"
"Yeah, too much, let's just walk," she whispers, wincing a little. We walk side by side, but I keep my pace slower just so she doesn't think she has to keep up with me.
"Maybe I should just stay at my place. I don't want to be a pain," she says. I stop walking.
"Your place isn't even set up yet. There's nothing there but a bed and some towels." I take her hand.
"You're staying with me," I say. "I'm going to take care of you."
She smiles a small smile and keeps a hold of my hand.
I can tell she's exhausted by the time we reach my apartment but I don't let on. I open the door and Zeke's mom is standing over my bed, fluffing pillows. There must be five big pillows on the bed, instead of my one flat one, and there are extra blankets at the foot of the bed. There are books stacked on my bedside table and a tall glass of water beside them.
I smile at Zeke's mom and she comes over to where we are. She grabs Tris' hands in hers.
"Tris, this is Libby, Zeke and Uriah's mom," I say. Tris has a big smile on her face and her eyes are all lit up.
"Nice to meet you," Tris says, wincing.
Libby looks at Tris' black and blue neck and the stitched cut on her forehead. "Oh, you poor thing, is it painful?" She asks. Tris nods.
"Here, let's get you settled in," Libby says, leading Tris over to the bed. I head over to the kitchen to get a drink. I open the fridge and I see that Libby has fully stocked it with juices, homemade chocolate pudding, and casseroles with instructions taped on top of how to cook them. I lump forms in my throat. I watch Libby fussing over Tris, getting her set up on the bed. She props pillows up behind her and grabs one of the wool throws she brought and lays it over her legs. I stay in the kitchen because I can tell Tris is really enjoying being comforted by Libby. It's times like these when you want your mom taking care of you, and since Tris' mom isn't here, Libby is the next best thing. She sits on the bed beside Tris and places a hand on her cheek. She talks quietly to her. I can't hear what she's saying but it sounds comforting and soothing. Tris doesn't answer back but just nods occasionally. Libby kisses Tris' cheek and then stands up and comes over to me.
"Thanks...….for everything." I meant to say more but that lump rises in my throat again and won't let me get any more words out. She touches me on the cheek.
"She's just lovely," she says, and all I can do is nod because that damn lump is not going anywhere. She turns, waves to Tris, and then leaves. I go and sit on the bed. Tris' eyes are moist.
"Too much?" my lip curls. She shakes her head.
"No, it's perfect," she whispers. I touch her cheek lightly. A stray tear falls and I wipe it away with my thumb.
We spend the afternoon sitting in bed, reading books and eating chocolate pudding. When night comes, I go to the bathroom and change into some cotton pajama pants and a t-shirt. I get out one of my t-shirts for Tris to wear.
"Here," I say, handing her the t-shirt. You'll be more comfortable in this. I'll help you take your pants off."
"I don't need help," she says, but I just do it anyway. I unzip her jeans and pull them down around her ankles and take them off.
"I have to say, whenever I've imagined you taking my pants off, it was never quite like this," she says.
"So, you think about me taking your pants off?" Her cheeks go bright red. I think my cheeks go a little red too. "Change into the t-shirt. I'll turn around." I turn around and then I glance in the mirror above my dresser and realize I can see her. I avert my eyes but then they somehow drift over again and I sneak another look. She has her shirt off and she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra. When the bra falls away from her I catch my breath. I look away and wait.
"Okay, you can turn around," she says. I turn out the bedside table lamp and I slide into bed facing her. We're inches apart.
"Thanks for doing all this," she says quietly.
"You can thank Libby. I've never taken care of anyone before and I don't know what I'm doing," I say. I reach over and stroke her hair.
"You're doing fine," she says and puts her hand on my chest. It reminds me of the other night when she had her hands on my stomach, waiting, building up her nerve. I remember how she made me feel and a yearning starts bubbling up in my stomach. I can see the same yearning in her eyes too. I touch her cheek lightly.
I kiss her, gently, carefully, not wanting to hurt her neck.
"It's okay," she whispers, and leans in and kisses me harder. I'm still being careful, but then she tangles her fingers in my hair, and her tongue finds mine. I kiss her deeper, my body shifting closer. I slide my hand under her t-shirt and slowly move my way up, wanting to feel the soft, pale skin that I just glimpsed in the mirror. My fingers move along each rib until I reach her soft breast. I cup my hand around it and then I rub my thumb over her nipple, feeling it getting harder under my touch. She pants against my lips in between kisses. I move on top of her, I feel her legs starting to wrap around me. I kiss her harder.
She lets out a yelp.
I snap out of it and jump off her. She grabs her neck and starts wheezing. Damn it! What did the nurse tell me to do if she had trouble breathing?
"Sit up!" I remember, finally. I help her sit up and prop one of the pillows behind her. She grabs my hand and squeezes it tight, her eyes panicked.
"It's okay," I say calmly. "Just breathe." I breathe in and out deeply and she starts to mimic my rhythm. The wheezing finally subsides and she's breathing normally again.
"Maybe we should cool it until you're better," I say. I bring her hand up to my mouth and kiss it.
"Maybe," she whispers.
I hope she gets better fast.
