I acknowledge that I'm about to go through a slow patch in the story, I'm going to try and make it as interesting as I possibly can but for the next couple chapters I feel like I'm going to be doubting myself more than usual. I know the story is getting long, and I'm super grateful that so many people have stuck with me for so long. I want to try and make it at least until they celebrate christmas. Like always I love to know what you think and I own nothing.
Patrick was released from the hospital Friday afternoon but only so long as he promised to rest. So when I pulled into the driveway after picking the kids up from school they had no idea that Patrick was inside and it would be a lie if I didn't find some pleasure about how excited they were to see him laying on the couch.
"You're home! You're home!"
"I am home." He sat up very slowly before letting them jump into his arms.
"Hey be careful we don't want to hurt him more do we." I called locking the door behind me.
"But you feel better right Patrick, I mean they let you come home." Alyssa questioned.
"I feel much better, we just have to be careful for a little while so I don't have to go back again."
"Okay."
"Now come on what are we going to do tonight we have movies and games?" Patrick smiled lifting a very quiet William onto his lap, "You okay buddy."
"You were gone." He whispered.
"Oh I know, but I'm back now and I'm not going anywhere."
"You promise."
"I promise," He assured William before turning to me, "what do we want for dinner?"
"I don't think so, you're staying on the couch, I'm making dinner." I handed him Cass and started for the kitchen. I listened to him playing with the kids through the door it was good to have him back at the house even if he had only been gone for two nights. When dinner was ready I had to help Patrick up from the couch and I couldn't help but keep my hand on his back even after he assured me he could walk on his own.
After dinner was worse though he could barely make it up the stairs and he couldn't help with the kids baths or getting them into their pajamas. The look of almost total helplessness came when I had to help him get ready for bed.
"This is why we don't jump in front of bullets." I reminded helping him with his shirt.
"I'd do it again you know."
"You've said that before."
"I mean it."
"You know usually you wouldn't look so upset at the idea of me undressing you."
"I hope you aren't getting your hopes up, I couldn't even make it up the stairs." He laughed, at least he didn't look so pathetic anymore.
"I'm just happy you're home." I assured, helping him pull a t-shirt on consciously avoiding the new scar on his chest.
"You know I go to the beach people might start thinking I'm a lot tougher than I actually am." He caught me looking any where but his chest, "I got a scar from a knife and now a bullet to."
"Oh yes you're very dangerous," I rolled my eyes, and helped him into bed. "But you're not adding anymore to your collection."
"Thank you Teresa."
"I love you Patrick." I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.
"I love you to Teresa." He whispered after I had curled up next to him, he would only be able to lay on his back for while and I really prayed that it didn't effect his recently acquired ability to sleep through the night.
The next morning I was woken up way to early to process what was going on. Patrick was halfway through pulling himself out of bed.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Trying not to wake you." He gave up and fell back onto the bed.
"What do you need?
"My medicine is on the top shelf in the kitchen." He groaned.
"Alright I'll be right back." I was back in a minute with a glass of water and his pain pills. "Why didn't you bring them up here last night?"
"Because there are very few places up here to put it that is out of reach of a couple small children." He groaned again swallowing the pill. "Thank you."
"You should keep those closer, I'll put them in the cabinet above the sink."
'Thank you." He repeated he looked exhausted, how long had he been awake how long had he needed the medicine. Maybe we shouldn't have let him out of the hospital, he had only been there two days after all. "Stop worrying so much." He chuckled.
"I'm not worrying." I crawled back into bed next to him.
"Liar."
"I'm curious, if you had managed to make it out of bed without waking me what was your plan to get down stairs?"
"I was thinking the wall would be a more than suitable support, it was the getting back up I was having trouble with."
"You aren't allowed anywhere near stairs without me for at least a week." I warned.
"Or what you'll shoot me?" He smirked.
"Not funny."
"I suppose it isn't." He nodded, and then the bedroom door opened just a crack, I couldn't help but smile at the tiny head the peeked around the corner. I hopped out of bed for a second time that morning to help William climb into our bed. "Did someone need to check and make sure I was still here?" Patrick smiled as William curled up in between us.
"Uh huh."
"I told you I wasn't going anywhere." He reminded, and William just moved closer to him. "I'm sorry I left you all alone in this house full of women, they'll only get worse." I rolled my eyes and had to resist the urge to slap him, he was already in enough pain. "Don't you roll your eyes at me women you're going to realize it soon enough when you're raising three teenage girls."
"You say that like you won't be there." I grinned, and he just smiled.
"William and I will find some brilliant hiding place." He pushed himself into a sitting position.
"By brilliant hiding place you're going to disappear into the attic at work like you always do."
"You know me so well."
"Stop moving you're just going to end up opening your stiches." I ordered, and he just groaned. He was getting frustrated and it was only going to get worse the longer he wasn't able to do things. I had to lean over and give him a kiss, "You're supposed to be the patient one remember." At least I got him to chuckle again.
"Patience is great unless you can't get out of bed on your own and really have to go to the bathroom." He answered, and I got out of bed for the third time this morning to help him out of bed.
With my new position as temporary head chef I took the opportunity to make normal pancakes if only to use the syrup. I was flipping pancakes when I felt his arms around my waist and a kiss on the back of my neck.
"I thought I left you upstairs." I fell backwards into him.
"I told you I could get downstairs it was the upstairs I was worrying about." He answered, "But I came in here to tell you that the small people in the other room are starting to get hungry. You just looked so sexy."
"You're trying to start something you can't finish mister." I sighed, "And you can tell the kids breakfast is ready anytime. I'll get Cass." Patrick nodded as he chose to not dwell on the fact that he could not currently pick up any of the kids. It was as I was doing dishes that I remembered the soccer game in a couple hours. "Damn it!"
"What's wrong?" Patrick made an effort to turn in his seat but it only ended in another groan.
"The girls game today, a Saturday game, we volunteered to bring snacks, because we wouldn't have a case."
"We didn't predict spending the week in the hospital." He finished for me. "Not a problem, stop at the grocery store on the way to the game pick up some Rice Krispy treats and juice boxes or something along those lines."
"Okay, and you're staying here today." I instructed, "You can go lay on the couch and take a nice long nap."
"No I think I'll go with." He smiled.
"You can barely walk without making a face." I reminded.
"I'm not missing the game." He frowned.
"Patrick."
"You're going to watch all four kids and provide a cooler full of snacks." He succeeded in turning his chair around.
"Yes instead of four kids a cooler full of snacks and a man who can barely walk."
"I'll sit at one of the picnic tables with Cass and you won't even notice me."
"Until it's time to go. The doctor said you need to relax."
"And what is more relaxing than an afternoon in the park."
"Look I know you hate being cooped up, but I don't want you ending up even more hurt. The girls won't be mad if you miss one game because you're hurt, just pretend the couch in the living room is the couch at work."
"If you don't take me with you I'll drive myself."
"You can barely walk, how are you going to drive?"
"I can walk fine thank you very much."
"I'll take your keys."
"I'll call a cab."
"Patrick." I sighed, "Why do you insist on everything being an argument?"
"Teresa, I'm going to the game." He said with enough force to clearly state the end of the conversation. There were very few things that he every spoke that firmly on.
"What is this about?" I refilled his tea and sat down across from him.
"I just want to go to the game." He shrugged and everything was normal again.
"There is something more than resisting boredom." I insisted.
"I've missed enough soccer games due to traveling for work to know that I'm not going to miss one when I'm more than capable of sitting and watching a game."
"Fine you're coming, but you are sitting at the picnic table and I better not hear you complain. And you're sitting in the car while I get the groceries."
"I appreciate this Teresa."