about the tight fit. I wrapped my arms around him as his head dropped onto my shoulder.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered in my ear, sniffling loudly. “For saying what I did, like I did. I don't want you to be sick, Mia. Not ever again.”
I tightened my hold on him and nodded. “I know, Benj. I'm sorry, too. I never should've yelled the way I did. I just…” I swallowed against the rapidly forming lump in my throat. “I just…” Clearingmy throat loudly, I shook my head. “I think I'm going to need some help opening all these gifts.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “I can do that. No problem.” He slid down to the floor next to my feet and handed me a brightly-papered box. “That's from me.”
This time, the smile that spread its wings across my face was bright and genuine. I accepted the gift, held it in my hands for a long moment, measuring its weight before gently shaking it. Then, I tore through the paper.
On the sofa, Mom and Dad clutched at each other and watched, silently. Their eyes shimmered with a wealth of unshed tears. Ben tore open my gifts and held them up for me to inspect. He was too busy to notice their turmoil, for which I was immensely glad.
It was better this way. Why turn this holiday black for him? Where was the hurry? He had the rest of forever to deal with losing me, but there was only this one tiny moment left, a snapshot in time for him to have true happiness. Why not let him hold onto it?
F OURTEEN
I ROLLED OUT OF BED THE NEXT MORNING with a low, tortured groan. My head pounded out an exotic, primitive rhythm that made me stumble into the bathroom to the medicine cabinet. Inside, a parade of orange pharmacy bottles taunted me. Drs. Shreve and Bernstein had both prescribed a mountain of pills, all geared toward taking the painful headaches away. Problem was: the same warning label was pasted on the side of each bottle. MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS. DO NOT OPERATE HEAVY MACHINERY WHEN TAKING THIS MEDICATION. DO NOT MIX WITH ALCOHOL. It all meant the same thing: any one of these pills would turn me into a brain-dead zombie.
No thank you.
Opting for the relative safety of aspirin, I shook out three tablets and dry swallowed them, grimacing against the chalky aftertaste even as I willed them to alleviate the pressure fast.
Food. Sometimes, eating would cause my headaches to magically disappear. I wasn't all that hungry, but I padded downstairs anyway. The first cupboard I opened contained the breakfast of champions, Pop-Tarts. I snagged a package and popped both in the toaster. When they jumped up with a ding, I transferred them to a plate, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and followed my ears into the living room. From the sounds of it, Ben was playing some kind of sports game.
I stopped short at the entrance to the living room when I found Kal playing a game of Madden with Ben. They paused the gamewhen they saw me. “Oh, crap Kal,” I muttered. “I completely forgot. Why didn't you wake me up?”
He shrugged, an easy smile riding his lips. “No worries. We're only in the first quarter. I would've come looking for you if you hadn't rolled out of bed by the time we were done.”
I meandered over to the couch and plopped down next to him. “So, you haven't been here long?” His affirmative nod made me feel a tiny bit better about forgetting our plans. I blew out a loud breath. “Okay. I'll go get changed then. I won't be but ten minutes.” I started to push up to my feet, but Kal's hand on my thigh stopped me, sending a bolt of super-charged electricity flying through me.
“No rush, babe,” he replied, squeezing my leg lightly. “Eat your breakfast. I've got to kick junior's ass before we can go anyway.”
At this, Ben snorted and unpaused the game. “You wish, old man.”
Kal's hand left my thigh, and he turned his attention to the game while I happily munched on my breakfast. My belly full, I tossed the plate onto the coffee table and yawned loudly. Both boys looked
“I'm sorry,” he whispered in my ear, sniffling loudly. “For saying what I did, like I did. I don't want you to be sick, Mia. Not ever again.”
I tightened my hold on him and nodded. “I know, Benj. I'm sorry, too. I never should've yelled the way I did. I just…” I swallowed against the rapidly forming lump in my throat. “I just…” Clearingmy throat loudly, I shook my head. “I think I'm going to need some help opening all these gifts.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “I can do that. No problem.” He slid down to the floor next to my feet and handed me a brightly-papered box. “That's from me.”
This time, the smile that spread its wings across my face was bright and genuine. I accepted the gift, held it in my hands for a long moment, measuring its weight before gently shaking it. Then, I tore through the paper.
On the sofa, Mom and Dad clutched at each other and watched, silently. Their eyes shimmered with a wealth of unshed tears. Ben tore open my gifts and held them up for me to inspect. He was too busy to notice their turmoil, for which I was immensely glad.
It was better this way. Why turn this holiday black for him? Where was the hurry? He had the rest of forever to deal with losing me, but there was only this one tiny moment left, a snapshot in time for him to have true happiness. Why not let him hold onto it?
F OURTEEN
I ROLLED OUT OF BED THE NEXT MORNING with a low, tortured groan. My head pounded out an exotic, primitive rhythm that made me stumble into the bathroom to the medicine cabinet. Inside, a parade of orange pharmacy bottles taunted me. Drs. Shreve and Bernstein had both prescribed a mountain of pills, all geared toward taking the painful headaches away. Problem was: the same warning label was pasted on the side of each bottle. MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS. DO NOT OPERATE HEAVY MACHINERY WHEN TAKING THIS MEDICATION. DO NOT MIX WITH ALCOHOL. It all meant the same thing: any one of these pills would turn me into a brain-dead zombie.
No thank you.
Opting for the relative safety of aspirin, I shook out three tablets and dry swallowed them, grimacing against the chalky aftertaste even as I willed them to alleviate the pressure fast.
Food. Sometimes, eating would cause my headaches to magically disappear. I wasn't all that hungry, but I padded downstairs anyway. The first cupboard I opened contained the breakfast of champions, Pop-Tarts. I snagged a package and popped both in the toaster. When they jumped up with a ding, I transferred them to a plate, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and followed my ears into the living room. From the sounds of it, Ben was playing some kind of sports game.
I stopped short at the entrance to the living room when I found Kal playing a game of Madden with Ben. They paused the gamewhen they saw me. “Oh, crap Kal,” I muttered. “I completely forgot. Why didn't you wake me up?”
He shrugged, an easy smile riding his lips. “No worries. We're only in the first quarter. I would've come looking for you if you hadn't rolled out of bed by the time we were done.”
I meandered over to the couch and plopped down next to him. “So, you haven't been here long?” His affirmative nod made me feel a tiny bit better about forgetting our plans. I blew out a loud breath. “Okay. I'll go get changed then. I won't be but ten minutes.” I started to push up to my feet, but Kal's hand on my thigh stopped me, sending a bolt of super-charged electricity flying through me.
“No rush, babe,” he replied, squeezing my leg lightly. “Eat your breakfast. I've got to kick junior's ass before we can go anyway.”
At this, Ben snorted and unpaused the game. “You wish, old man.”
Kal's hand left my thigh, and he turned his attention to the game while I happily munched on my breakfast. My belly full, I tossed the plate onto the coffee table and yawned loudly. Both boys looked
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