Page 7 of Reconciling the Consequences

Kara glared at him. “You can keep me out of the club shit bycalling me. You can TELL ME you have club shit going on that you can’t talk about. I’m not a fucking idiot, you know. I know the three of you do shady shit.”

Kevin only nodded.

She shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t feel good, Kevin.” She sighed, resigned. “I just want to sleep.”

“Alright.” He solemnly agreed.

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as he slowly got off the bed. When the door closed behind him she let out a shuddering breath and let the tears fall. She had to breathe through her pain, had to focus on not sobbing. Her ribs screamed in agony with every breath she took.

She focused on her breathing, used the tool kit her therapist had given her to combat her panic attacks. She breathed in for four counts and held it for seven counts, then slowly released it for eight counts.

She continued her breathing until she felt calm and her eyes grew heavy. She dozed off, feeling drained and emotional.

~*~

Kara was pulled from her sleep sometime in the middle of the night. It was dark in the bedroom. “Kara.” Derrick’s soft voice was to her right.

She turned her head to find him sitting on the bed next to her.

“You need to take your pills,” he explained and held out his palm with three of her pain meds.

She nodded and took the three pills with her left hand. He held the straw to her lips, and she took a sip of water before she tossed back the pills and swallowed. She felt better this time than she did the last time she woke up.

“Sleep, baby girl,” Derrick murmured and kissed her forehead.

She didn’t need to be told twice and quickly drifted back to sleep.

Her stomach hurt the next time she woke up. She realized she had been taking pills on an empty stomach and groaned. Thankfully she wasn’t in too much pain. She also really needed to pee and realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had used the bathroom.

She looked to her right and saw Kevin there again.

He was lying down, facing her but still sleeping. He startled awake when she shifted. “You OK?” he asked immediately. “What do you need?”

She’d smile at his attentiveness, if she weren’t so annoyed with him. “I need to pee.” She sighed, realizing she would need help hobbling to the bathroom at least. “And maybe food?” she added, giving him a bone.

“We can do that. Let’s get you up.” He rolled off the right side of the bed and circled around to her side.

She kicked the blanket off of her with her right leg and then looked around and tried to figure out how to do this.

“Alright, let’s take it slow,” Kevin said. “I’ll move the pillows here,” he put his hand on the stack under her left knee, “and you can slowly swing your legs off the bed. Use your good arm to roll into a sitting position at the same time.”

“I don’t have a good arm,” she muttered, but she followed his directions and rolled onto her left elbow. The stitches in her forearm didn’t pull too badly, and she found that it was relatively easy to sit up—mostly pain free. She wasn’t jostled at least, and nothing felt too excruciatingly painful. She had a feeling all of that would change once she was standing.

“Your discharge papers had tips for maneuvering,” he said as he came to her left side. "Why don’t you hold on to my arm here,” he looped her stitched arm through his so she’d hold his elbow like he was escorting her down a red carpet. “I’ll help you a little, but you’ll do most of the moving yourself.”

She nodded, understanding what he was getting at. She put more pressure on her good leg and, using her stitched arm, leaned forward and slowly stood up. “Well shit.” She breathed once she was standing. She was technically able to put her full weight on the injured leg twenty-four hours after surgery, but her doctor had recommended only doing so for short periods of time to help prevent swelling and possibly reinjuring herself.

She held Kevin’s elbow and hobbled slowly toward the ensuite. The large bathroom was fully remodeled and modern, decorated beautifully with a freestanding vanity and white granite countertop. The room was done in a wash of grays and white that matched the bedroom.

Once Kara was confident that she could use the countertop to hobble over to the toilet, she turned to Kevin. “I’ve got this,” she said softly.

He nodded almost reluctantly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright. I’ll get you some food. Any requests?”

“Toast with jelly, if you’ve got it? Maybe some sausage or bacon?”

“I can do that,” he agreed. “Yell if you need anything.”

Kara took her time relieving herself and getting cleaned up. When she stood at the sink washing her hands, she noticed her travel toiletry bag. Inside was all her stuff. That’s when she paid attention to her surroundings: her hairbrush was on the counter along with her toothbrush and her makeup bag. She looked through the glass of the shower and saw her full-size shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash with loofa. Someone had raided her house for her things.

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