Page 34 of Play For Keeps

“Come here,” he says reaching for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “Let’s get you inside and to bed.”

Once we’re inside the apartment, I point to Birdie’s bedroom and follow Jake as he carries her there. I pull back her covers and he gently places her in her bed, being careful not to bump her injured arm. “Do you want to change her into her pajamas or is she fine to sleep in this?” he whispers, looking over his shoulder at me. She’s wearing a dress that is basically a long cotton t-shirt gathered at the waist.

“She’s fine in what she’s wearing.”

Luckily, she doesn’t wake as Jake pulls the covers over her and tucks her in. He brushes a lock of her blonde curls from her forehead. Jake doesn’t have to be here with her. He didn’t have to come to the hospital or wait there with us for hours. He didn’t have to drive us home or tuck Birdie into bed. He’s here because he wants to be. It’s obvious that in the short amount of time he’s known Birdie, he’s come to genuinely care about her.

I kiss her forehead before we both leave her to sleep and head into the hallway.

“Go get ready for bed,” Jake says, stopping in front of my bedroom door. “I’ll make you a mug of tea.”

I stare at him, speechless. I’m not used to being taken care of, and part of me wants to tell him he doesn’t need to worry about me. But the bigger part is completely exhausted, barely able to keep my eyes open.

“Go, Everly,” he says, before I can even attempt to protest. “It will help you sleep.”

“You’re spoiling me,” I say, not sure what I did to deserve him.

He smiles as I turn towards my bedroom door. I need a shower to rinse off the sterile hospital smell, and as soon as I step under the spray, I can feel the hot water start to soothe my tired muscles. I stay there for a very long time, before finally drying off and getting dressed into a T-shirt and sleep shorts. I’m climbing under the covers when I hear a soft knock at my door.

Jake appears in the doorway with a mug of steaming peppermint tea, setting the cup on my nightstand. “Feel better? I heard the shower going.”

“Much,” I say, pulling the covers up past my waist.

“Get some rest. You need a good night’s sleep. I’m going to sleep on the couch in case Birdie needs something in the middle of the night.”

“Jake, no. You can’t sleep on the couch. Look at the size of you. Besides, you need to get your truck. It might get towed.”

“My truck will be fine. I had a buddy pick it up for me. As for your couch, I’ve slept on smaller ones in college. I’ll be fine.” He tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and the feel of his fingertips brushing against my skin sends chills up my spine. “I’ll be here in case you or Birdie need anything. Just sleep, Everly.” He tucks the comforter around me tighter.

“Thank you,” I murmur before my eyes flutter closed and I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve had in a long time.

JAKE

Birdie grabs the loaf of bread while I crack three eggs into a frying pan. She climbs on to the chair she persuaded me to move into the kitchen so that she could make the toast, promising me it would be okay with her mom. I keep a close eye on her, praying she doesn’t fall off and break her other arm. I can’t believe I’m making breakfast with a seven-year-old. More than that, I can’t believe I’m actually enjoying it. There was no way I was leaving last night. Everly needed a good night’s sleep. Fortunately, she seems to have gotten just that. So far Birdie and I are the only ones awake.

I only got up once in the middle of the night to check on Birdie when I heard her tossing in her bed. She had to go to the washroom, so I waited in her bedroom until she was done and then tucked her back in. She fell back asleep quickly, but then woke me up around 6:30 this morning. I still had some time before I had to get to work, so Birdie and I decided to make breakfast.

I’m just finishing up the scrambled eggs when I hear the creak of a door and glance over my shoulder to find Everly. She looks rested, still in her pajamas with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She smiles when she sees Birdie and I in the kitchen.

“You’re making me breakfast too? You must be a saint,” she says as she walks into the kitchen, kissing Birdie on the top of her head. “How is your arm, sweet girl? Any pain? Did you sleep well?”

Everly strokes her hand through Birdie’s curls. “It hurt a little when I woke up, but it’s better now. Jake gave me my medicine from the doctor,” she reports as Everly pulls her into her side.

“Um… what’s this?” Everly asks Birdie, looking down at her broken arm.

“Jake signed my cast! He said I can get all my friends to sign it. Gramma and Grandpa too.”

“And you let him sign it before your Mom?” Everly teases her, tickling her side. Birdie’s raspy laugh echoes around the small kitchen, making me laugh too.

“Don’t worry. You can sign it too. There’s lots of space.” Birdie hops down from the chair, runs to the coffee table, and comes back with a Sharpie. After Everly signs her name, she gets back to work making toast. Her casted arm is making it a little more difficult, but she seems to be managing okay.

I slide the eggs onto a plate and turn off the stove, then pour a cup of coffee for Everly. “I’ve gotta get to work. But the eggs are made and Birdie’s on toast, and there’s extra coffee in the coffee maker. I’ll text you later and see how things are going.”

Four hugs from Birdie later, Everly walks me to the door. “Thank you for everything. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this rested.”

“I’m glad.” I say, raking my hand though my bedhead. “Birdie will need another dose of medicine around noon.”

“Okay… she didn’t mind it?”

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