Page 10 of Digging Deeper

Holds squints at me. “What on earth could you have made a mess with from your bed?”

“Uh…”Didn’t Gavin tell him?Man, I’m such an ass. Being jealous of their relationship really has kept me from noticing what a truly upstanding guy Gavin is. “The plant you brought me may have had an untimely death.”

Expecting his feelings to be hurt, I’m pleasantly surprised when he barks out a laugh. “Well, plants are supposed to be therapeutic.”

I huff. “I’m sorry, Holds. If it makes you feel any better, Gavin got the broom, pulled me over to the edge of the bed, and made me sweep it up.” That doesn’t get the laughter I’m expecting. “Holds?”

“He made you sweep with your legs dangling off the side of the bed?” he asks, gritting his teeth. “Maybe he’s not the right person to be working with you. I’m not… I don’t think that’s okay at all.”

Tears prickle in my eyes, again. This is getting ridiculous. “Holds, it was good.”

He searches my face and must see the truth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” It feels good, wonderful, if I’m being truthful with myself, to have my brother get angry on my behalf with the person I’ve been the most jealous of for years. Huh. Another thing to ponder while I’m trapped in this room alone. But I don’t want him to be mad at Gavin, not for this. “I’ll admit I was super pissed when he first told me I had to clean it up. Honestly, I thought the guy was nuts. But he helped me, you know?” Holds nods encouragingly. After clearing my throat, I admit, “For the first time since I woke up, watching the dirt and leaves gather into a pile in one place, because of something I was doing myself, I…”

“You didn’t feel helpless anymore?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Thank God for therapy plants,” Holds whispers back.

* * *

I watchthe seconds on Jameson’s father’s pocket watch tick by. He’d left it here with me a few weeks ago when he caught me in a rare moment, and I’d admitted how alone I felt stuck here. He’d said,You know this watch has been my touchpoint to my dad since he went away. It helps me feel closer to him. Life may never go back to being exactly the same, but he will get out of prison and be back on the outside, here, with me, where he belongs. It’s the same with you, Drix. One day, you’ll walk out of this place. We don’t know what the future holds, and some things will be different, but me and you—us being here for each other—that’s not going to change. So I’m leaving this here for right now, so you have a touchstone, too.

I’d protested because Jameson did take this pocket watch everywhere. Over the years, I’d seen him wind it or watch the secondhand tick away many times when he was missing his dad or overwhelmed. I know how important, even vital, it is to him since his dad has been in prison. Especially since only him, and then me, believe that he’s innocent of the drug charges that he was convicted of. And maybe that was his whole point. It’s weird how only last week I was burying my head in my pillows dreading the moment Gavin would arrive, but today the minutes aren’t moving fast enough. He was off of work for the weekend, and being his last patient of the day sucks. I need to see for myself he’s okay. Holds’s words this weekend didn’t reassure me in the slightest.

A rustle at the door causes me to look up, and right inside the doorway is nothing but a hand with a bag of gummy treats shaking from it. Gavin. “Are you going to bring them in or tease me all day?” I yell.

Gavin strides in chuckling. The bag of gummy treats are in one hand, but on the other side, he’s carrying a large vase of flowers. “I come bearing treats,” he says.

“What’s with the flowers?” I ask as I greedily grab the gummies as he’s handing them to me. I don’t wait but rip open the bag. I’ve been dying for these ever since he said I deserve a reward, and I’m not too proud to hide it. “I thought the sour gummies are my reward for cleaning up after myself.”

“The flowers aren’t for you,” he says. “It’s for the rest of us. You may like the gloom and doom of this room, but your visitors need something a bit more cheery if you’re going to condemn us to being here much longer.” He winks at me, setting the vase down in the middle of the table where he sets his charts and Holds and Jameson usually dump the food and whatever they bring when they come see me.

“Huh. Nice,” I say before popping another gummy into my mouth.

Gavin plants his hands on his hips, head tilting. “Nice? You’re not going to yell at me?” I shake my head. “The damn candy is making you so happy that you don’t even care that I said you’re condemning us here? Like you’re not the one stuck.” I smile, shaking my head again, before popping another one into my mouth. They really are so good. Normally, I savor them a bit more, sucking the sugar off before I bite down for that first burst of sour, but I don’t want to talk yet. Stuffing my mouth full of candy is much better than the alternative—telling Gavin how nice it is to see him and that I may have missed his overly-optimistic scoldings this weekend.

“You’re in a better mood today,” I say between shoveling candy into my mouth. Gavin rolls his eyes, then stomps over and grabs the bag right out of my hand. “Hey.” Okay, that may have come out a little whinier than I meant for it to.

“You’re going to give yourself a bellyache, and we still have work to do. I can’t have you complaining as soon as we start that you don’t feel good. It’s hard enough to get you through your whole regimen without me being an unknowing accessory to your gluttony.” And for some reason, I do it again—I smile. “Okay, what’s with you?” Gav asks as he moves around the room gathering everything we need for today’s PT session.

“Nothing.” He crooks in an eyebrow in my direction, but doesn’t push further. By the time he picks me up and moves me into the chair we use for my treatment, I can feel the sugar coursing through me. “We better hurry this up today.”

“Why?” he asks as he bends over to grab my arm bands. Seeing as how there’s no witnesses, I take a peek at his splendid ass. That thing really is a work of art. Both cheeks are perfectly symmetrical. I wonder what they feel like, hard and firm or are they nice and soft, pillowy. I bet they’re pillowy. “Hendrix!”

“Huh. Yep. What?” I cut my eyes from the mountains of fabulousness to see him staring at me over his shoulder.

“What’s gotten into you today? Why are you being so weird? Is bringing you sour candy really all we needed to do to change your disposition?”

“What are you talking about? I have a sunny-fucking disposition,” I say, grumbling so he doesn’t think I’m losing my edge. Can’t have him thinking he’s winning me over, afterall.

“Uh-huh. Sure you do.” I hear the smile in his voice as he crouches down next to my legs and starts to massage my calves. It’s becoming less disconcerting to see hands on me and not be able to feel them, but that may be because I’m fixated on the movements of the veins on the top of his hands and the flex of his fingers. Everything about Gavin is so slight, but he’s fit. He has to be for this job, I’m sure, but it’s an interesting dichotomy to me all of a sudden; how fragile he appears in so many ways, yet how strong he is in others.

The unusual thoughts of Gavin, of all people, playing in my head are starting to freak me out, which means I’m seconds away from being a dick—hey, at least I know myself—when a huge-ass potted plant rolls in through the doorway on a dolly. “What the hell?”

Gavin stands up and walks over to the man who is now unloading the monstrosity in the far corner of my room. “I’m sorry, why are you bringing this plant in here?”

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