Red in the Blue

Chapter 14

I showered again the next morning, if only as an activity. It's not as if I had anything to do, anywhere to be. In the hazy bathroom, as the steam cleared, I stood in front of the mirror and, for the first time in days, studied the scar forming where my neck and shoulder connected. Each time Dr. Cooper came, I turned my head and allowed him to examine it without looking myself. But now I looked, noticed it little by little as the mirror slowly cleared. It was nearly healed now. My shoulder was more yellow than purple these days. The skin was fully resealed. Just messy ridges marring the plane of flesh. I experimented with moving my arm, twisting my neck, rolling my shoulder, watching the way my new mark reacted.

I fiddled with my hair a while before leaving it down to cover the scar. I wondered how many more combinations I could make with the same four changes of clothes. I could hardly stand to put them back on. I felt squirrely. My chest tight. My jaw stiff. Something was beating against my ribcage politely with a tiny hammer. Out out out out out, it said. I didn't want to be in this house anymore. I wanted to go home. I wanted my bed. I wanted my plants. I wanted my work. I wanted my friends.

I texted Liz, who promptly called me from work, and we sat on video chat for a while. I did not tell her about the dream. I tried not to think about it at all, but when I closed my eyes, sensations of it splashed back through my mind like a drop of ink spreading through clear water. She wanted to hear everything that had been going on, about everyone I'd met. She offered again to come visit. And though I admitted to being a little stir crazy, I told her there would be no point. Surely I wouldn't be here long enough for her to come. And, I admitted, I wasn't sure how serious the business with Lowell was. Wasn't sure if being around the people whose job it was to protect this pack was skewing my understanding of things.

I heard—faintly—a knock on the front door of the house and froze mid-sentence, gesturing to Liz, to try to hear who it could be. I could make out James' voice and a deep voice answering her, but beyond that I couldn't tell. And I couldn't scent them beyond the sudden wafting of...bacon. Liz and I said our goodbyes, and I trailed uncertainly out toward the kitchen.

"All good, Lore," James said idly from around the corner. "It's a friend."

I stepped into the room, breakfast indeed being spread onto the counter in styrofoam boxes by Elias, who smiled at me over his shoulder.

"Hey," he said without stopping what he was doing. "Thought I'd come see how you were doing."

"That was nice. Donuts were nicer."

There were indeed donuts, bacon, loaded breakfast potatoes, scrambled eggs, toast. There were jugs of milk and juice on the table. It smelled so good and looked so good. The diversion of meals had felt like all I'd had to look forward to since I'd gotten my appetite back. Even their preparation and clean-up was something to do. I was surprised, however, at how happy I felt to see Elias. My chest twisted that he'd come by to check on me, and I felt a comfort in his presence that I hadn't realized I'd been missing. An easing.

I glanced over at James, who was leaning on the wall opposite the counters where Elias spread out the meal.

"By all means," she said, gesturing for me to load up a plate. I did so, and poured glasses of juice and milk both—juice for the meal, milk for the donut. Elias stood by while I picked through the half-dozen donuts for the most interesting-looking one, some s'mores abomination covered in cereal and mini marshmallows. I beamed up at him as I carefully pulled it from the box with two fingers, and he chuckled at me.

"This is the second time you've fed me," I pointed out as I wandered over to my place at the table. His brow furrowed for an instant, and then he remembered the snacks at the airport.