XXXIII
Eleven wakes up with no fever the next day. There is no sign of Henry other than a cool glass of water on her nightstand.
When she goes down for breakfast, she finds that there are Eggos waiting for her, covered by a glass bell. Next to it, there's a note she manages to read with some difficulty:
Good morning, sleepyhead,
I went out to buy some groceries. I left some breakfast for you. If you still aren't feeling better once I come back, we'll go to the doctor.
See you soon,
H.
Eleven recognizes the note and the Eggos—her favorite breakfast meal—for what they really are: a peace offering.
And she is more than happy to accept it.
…
Neither she nor he will bring up the subject again for years.
Taking advantage of his absence, Eleven locks herself in her room and wraps—quite clumsily—Henry's Christmas present.
Since she thinks it would look… well, sad next to the huge bright red box that Henry has brought home and placed in front of the tree—it won't even fit under it—she decides instead to place her present, very carefully, among the lower branches: a thin, rectangular box.
Along with the present, she deposits all of her hopes.
She hopes Henry like them.