Page 88 of The Refiner

With a gentle smile, Astor eases to his feet, purposefully looking away so I can’t see his discomfort. “I’ll go lie down for a little while and see if that helps. Will you watch Tatum for me?”

Didn’t I already tell him this earlier? “Yeah.”

Do I know he’s trying to get away from me? Yes, I do.

But it’s too late.

He’s stuck with me now.

Keagan

“Hey,” I open the door, “thanks for coming.”

Before anyone asks, Vance called checking on his brother. I simply reported his symptoms, and he said he would bring some medicine over.

This. Was. Not. My. Fault.

Vance nods, pushing inside and closing the door behind him. “Is he up?”

I shake my head. “He’s still lying down. I didn’t want to disturb him.”

Vance looks around the house for a moment and then sighs, setting the paper bag on the counter. “There’s antiemetics for the nausea in the bag. Have him take one and if he feels better in half an hour, have him take the pain medication with food.”

Vance sounds so clinical. “You’re talking like we’re dealing with someone with sense. Not someone who’d rather suffer for days than follow his discharge instructions.”

Vance’s lip twitches. “Then I suggest you get creative.”

“Creative? I’m trying to make him comfortable, not putting on an art show.”

Vance apparently isn’t staying as he takes a step backward toward the door. “Get some food and meds in him, and make sure he ices the area every couple of hours, and he’ll be back to his charming self tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” I whisper-shout as Vance reaches for the door handle. “Can’t you go in there and tell him all those things?”

He chuckles like I’ve said the most absurd thing in the world. “I could, but he’d likely only pull a muscle when he threw me out. Trust me, if anyone can convince Astor to do something, it’s you.”

“Why do you keep saying that? The man doesn’t listen to me at all.”

Vance flashes me a grin, and then shuts the door in my face.

What am I supposed to do now? Walk in there and say please? Is that the creativity Vance suggested? Heaven knows I don’t use that word often. In my life, saying the word please is a last resort.

But I need to try something. Anything. Tatum needs her father in tip-top shape, so Auntie Keys won’t feel bad about teasing him. It’s the natural order of our relationship and Astor is throwing it off by making my heart hurt worse.

And I’m tired of pain.

Therefore, I need to eliminate all pain from my life.

Starting with the big guy in the ridiculously sized master bedroom.

Grabbing the largest mixing bowl I can find, I toss in a bottled water, Astor’s meds, the kitchen hand towel, and an ice pack. Dr. Potter better be prepared to compromise on at least two of these items. Otherwise, we will argue, and I hate to do that to someone who doesn’t feel well. But when they can’t save themselves, someone has to step in.

I check on Tatum as I pass her room, noting her sweet coos and suckling as she snoozes away with a dry bottom and a full belly. Her father, on the other hand, isn’t as peaceful when I push open his bedroom door.

There on the bed, the blankets pushed to one side sits a man in deep denial.

“I brought you some goodies.”

Astor pulls up to a seated position without moaning, which is impressive, considering he’s drenched in sweat. “How’s Tatum?”

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