Noah
When I came back, Brecklyn was sleeping.
"Mom said to tell you that if she falls asleep, you need to wake her up to shower." Caden says. "And she also mentioned the word divorce if you don't."
I roll my eyes.
"She's not going to divorce me if somebody puts a gun to her head." I say. "But I'll wake her up."
I set the duffle bag of things down, shaking her lightly.
She opens her eyes, moving, opening her eyes by a hair.
"Do you want to shower now or do you want to wait?"
"Um..." she mumbles. "I'm sleeping."
Sometimes when Brecklyn is asleep, she'll have full conversations with me, and she won't remember them.
Like now. I can tell she won't remember this.
I shake her again.
"Why are you shaking her? She's awake." Charlotte says.
"No she's not." I say.
Sure enough, she actually opens her eyes this time.
"What?" she sighs.
"Do you want to shower now or later?" I ask again.
"Um..." she leans over the side of the bed at the duffle bag on the floor. "Now."
"Okay."
"Do you have any recollection of you just telling Dad that you're sleeping?" Rose asks.
"What are you talking about?" she asks.
"See?" I look at Charlotte.
"I need to learn to just listen to you." She says. "I always question things with her, and you're always right."
"That's because I know her better than she knows herself." I say.
She leans down, but winces, sitting back.
"Can I have the bag?" she asks.
I pick it up.
"Why are you wincing?" I ask.
"I don't know. I think I bruised my ribs when I went through the windshield."
I hate thinking about her going through the windshield. She has cuts on her faces, and scrapes all up and down her arms, and bruises.
"Well, if you were wearing your seatbelt," I start.
"Well I wasn't, and bitching won't change that." She cuts me off.
I sigh.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
She starts digging through the bag.
She wanted phone chargers and her Macbook and the charger and a whole list of movies, and a pillow from our bed, but it had to be one from my side, and she asked for one of my jackets, a ton of my shirts, thongs, bras, jeans, sweatpants, pajama pants, her hairbrush, tooth brush, toothpaste, her razor, her shampoo, her conditioner, her body wash, and her pink fluffy loofa.
She asked for random things around the house.
She fishes out one of my shirts, a black thong, and a pair of sweatpants, and then her shampoo and conditioner, and razor, and her body wash and the loofa.
Her doctor is in here.
"You probably won't be able to shave." He warns.
"I'm shaving, even if it means I pass out." She says.
He looks at me.
"She's not going to pass out." I say.
He seems reluctant.
I carry her things to the bathroom where the shower is.
When I come out, she's struggling to get up.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea." He says.
"Well either way, it's happening." She says.
He looks at me.
"Are you sure-"
"She's stubborn as hell." I say. "I've been handling her for almost twenty years. I can handle her now."
"Alright." He says. "I'm going to be in here with the nurses." He adds. "Are you absolutely sure she'll be okay? You might have to actually lift her up."
"Yes." I say.
"Alright." He says.
I help Brecklyn to her feet. She grips my arm. I hesitate.
"Are you sure you don't want to rest a little longer?" I ask.
"Yes." She says. "Can I have my sheets changed while I'm in here?" she asks.
"Yeah." He says.
The nurses move to change the sheets. I help Brecklyn into the bathroom, helping her sit down on the chair in the shower. I shut the door, but I leave it unlocked just in case.
I strip down to my boxers, and she strips completely naked.
I stare at her bare body.
"How did you get those bruises?" I ask.
She looks down, pressing her breast against her, looking past him at her ribs.
"I don't know." She says. "Probably when I went out the windshield."
I shrug, taking my boxers off.
I help her up, out of the shower, and I start the water.
When it's warm enough, I help her in, getting in with her.
"You wash first, I'll wait." She says.
"Oh, I'm not worried about me." I say.
"Wash first." She repeats.
I know better than she argue with her.
I wash everywhere, and then I turn to her.
I help her into the stream of the water, soaking her hand.
"You're going to have to help me stand." She says.
I put my hands on her hips, waiting.
She soaks herself. I sit her down, washing her hair for her. She sits there, her head back, her eyes closed.
I help her up again, washing her hair clean. She's starting to get really, really tired.
She grabs my arm.
I lift her into my arms so she doesn't have to stand, closing my eyes as she washes the soap out of her hair.
I sit her down again, and I put soap on her loofa. I help her up. Her knees are shaking. I wash her back, having her lean against the wall, and then I let her lean against the wall as I wash her front.
"Everything is spotted, Noah. I can't see."
I sit her down again.
"Drink the water." I say.
She doesn't argue.
I move her so she can drink the water coming from the faucet.
She does, and everything starts coming back.
I sit her down.
"I need to shave." She says.
"No." I say.
"Yes!" she says. "Please let me shave."
I sigh slowly, moving her to the floor.
She shaves what she can, but she ends up cutting herself on accident.
I let her lay on the floor of the shower, and I shave everywhere, even between her legs for her, under her arms, and her legs.
I help her stand, but the second she's on her feet, she starts shaking her head. I lift her up.
"Noah, I can't stand up. I really can't." she's starting to panic.
"Shhh." I calm her. "It's okay. I got you."
I shut the water off, setting her down on the bench.
I dry myself and dress myself first, quickly, and then I dry her. She helps me the best she can. When her body is dry, I pull her shirt over her head. I lay towels out on the floor and have her lay on them, pulling her panties on. She adjusts them, and then I pull her shorts on.
I help her sit up, grabbing another towel, I dry her hair.
I start collecting her things, putting them in her toiletry bag.
"I need to brush my teeth." She says.
I lift her on the shut toilet seat, putting all the wet towels in the hospital hamper.
"Do you want me to get your doctor?" I ask.
"No, I'm just really tired and I want to brush my teeth and go to bed."
Her eyes are shut, and I can tell she could fall asleep right there.
I soak her toothbrush, putting toothpaste on it, and then I wet it again and hand it to her.
She brushes her teeth violently.
She's the kind of person that brushes her teeth so violently that the brussels are all spread out like crazy.
I lift her up. She spits into the sink, and I lean her down so she can wash her mouth out.
She swishes, gargles, and spits.
I let her wipe her mouth off on a wash cloth.
"Good?" I ask.
"Yes." She rests her head on my shoulder.
I hold her like a toddler, my left arm under her butt to support her.
I open the bathroom door with my right.
They all look surprised when I come out with her and she's perfectly fine.
Her bed is made, and instead of the hospital pillow, they put my pillow there.
I pull the blankets back with my right arm, carefully setting her down.
She yawns. I tuck her in, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
I grab her bag from the shower, dropping it in her duffle bag.
"Babe." She mumbles, laying in bed.
"Hmm?" I ask.
"Thank you."
I smile softly, brushing a wet strand of hair out of her face.
"You're welcome."
The doctors check her vitals.
"She didn't fall?" her doctor asks.
"No. She got dizzy and her vision was spotty, but I made her drink the water. She's okay, just tired."
He nods.
"She just needs rest." He says.
"I know." I nod.
He hesitates.
"You've done this before." He says.
"Yes." I nod. "She's stubborn. She doesn't listen to anybody, and she's been to the hospital a lot, four births, and she got her gallbladder removed, along with stitches and random things like that."
He nods.
"Alright. I'll be back in a bit to check on her."
"Alright." I sigh, sitting down next to her bed.
She's already asleep.