My mom sent six hearts and several celebration confetti emojis, as well as a kissy face. Elliot sent an actual message.
Thank you. Seriously, thank you. For everything.
I tried to think of what to send back that didn’t sound either flippant or dismissive.I’m always here. For anything.
I know. So am I.
While I tried to think of what to say to that, another message came in.
Now go eat or pet your cat or fuck your adorable boyfriend.
I laughed to myself, then sent him a thumb’s up and put the phone down to go back to stroking Pet.
At some point, I fell asleep.
Not like I’d gotten a lot of rest and relaxation on this trip.
Taavi woke me up with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Val, you need to eat something today.”
“Mmmrgh.”
“No, noodles.”
I forced my eyes open to find him holding a bowl of said noodles out to me, steam rising off them. “Did you reheat these?” I asked, carefully pushing myself up to sitting, Pet having fucked off somewhere else. Usually when we got takeout the food wasn’tthathot.
“You slept for two hours, so yes, I did.”
“Oh, shit.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Thanks.”
I took the fork he handed me and spun noodles and curry around it, taking a mouthful—then realizing just how hungry I was.
Taavi got up, then returned with another bowl, a bottle of beer, and a mug, the latter of which he held out to me. Thanks, stupid drugs. I had another five days before I had to go in to see my doctor to check on the repaired stitches, and at least the same number of days on pain meds, so no beer for me.
Since we hadn’t beeninour apartment for over a month, my only real option was water. Because everything else was going to have fur or gone off.
Taavi settled on the other side of the couch, took a swig of his beer, and stirred his noodles. “Mason cleaned out the fridge,” he informed me, as though he’d read my mind.
“He did what?”
“Took everything perishable out of the fridge. So we have ketchup, beer, jam, peanut butter, and an unopened container of sour cream that hasn’t expired yet.”
I took another mouthful of noodles and vegetables, then spoke around it. “Shit. I shoulda gotten him something nicer for Christmas.”
Taavi chuckled. “He also left us a massive container of vegetarianmondongoin the freezer.”
“Of what?” I paused, fork of noodles in front of me.
“It’s a tomato-based vegetable stew,” Taavi answered.
“And you know this why?”
“One, I grew up with it, and, two, Mason made it once when you left me there.” While he’d been in dog form. “It’s really good.”
I took another bite of noodles. “Doc’s cooking usually is. I really should have gotten him something nicer.”
“Make him something with puff pastry.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Puff pastry?”