Page 68 of Artfully Wild
Suddenly, he blinks his eyes like he had just zoned out and that was it, and he goes back to his task. It’s not long before he realizes I’m next to him and he startles, dropping one of the mugs, which shatters against the tile floor.
“Jesus Christ, when the hell did you walk in?”
“I walked in a few minutes ago and you were completely out of it,” I say, grabbing his arm again and turning him toward me.
“What?”
“Jacob, I walked in here and you were staring out the window, but it was like you weren’t even here. You weren’t seeing anything and you weren’t moving. It’s like you zoned out, but it was more than that.”
He tries to shrug it off. “It’s fine. I’m just tired. We didn’t get much sleep last night and I must have just zoned out like you said.”
There’s something to his voice that tells me I shouldn’t push the issue, but there’s a deeper feeling in my gut telling me I should. “Jacob, it wasn’t that.”
“Skylar, it’s fine, okay? It happens sometimes. It’s no big deal.”
The way he says my full name doesn’t sound the way it usually does coming from him. It sounds cold and unfeeling. “What do you mean it’s no big deal? What isn’t a big deal?”
Running a hand through his hair, he sighs long and hard. “It’s my migraines.”
He waits for me to respond and when I don’t, he continues. “They’ve been getting worse. The one I had the last time was really bad so I went to the doctor. She wanted to run more tests, so I let her but I haven’t heard anything back. But I’ve been having these moments like just now where I zone out, but like you said, it’s more than that. And shortly after zoning out I get a migraine. So I’m pretty sure I’m about to be holed up in here the rest of the day doing nothing but hiding under the covers.”
He focuses back on his task and finishes the hot cocoa, and then I take over, grabbing the full mug from the counter and carrying it to the bed before returning to the kitchen to clean up the broken pieces of the other. I grab an ice pack from the freezer and pull Jacob to the bed.
“C’mon, I’m fine,” he starts to protest. I ignore him.
I get him in bed and put the ice pack behind his neck and by the way his face relaxes, it seems at least some of the pain is alleviated.
“Why didn’t you tell me you went back to a doctor?”
“I just didn’t. I’m sorry. I should have. She put me on a daily medication, but I haven’t been taking it.”
Shooting up from the bed, I find his bag and start digging through it. “Where is it?”
“Side pocket,” he concedes. “Now, c’mon, tell me everything.”
So, I do. In between doing everything that is second nature when taking care of Jacob during a migraine, I tell him everything that happened in Camp’s office and how he accepted my offer.
“He went for it?”
“He did,” I exclaim, trying to keep my voice at a lower level.
“Mr. Camp is officially in business with the Waters family after all these years.” I take a moment to smile and bask in a moment with him smiling back at me before I burst our bubble once again. “Now, stop asking questions and let me take care of you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
JACOB
We’ve spent every evening this last week before the Winter Festival working in the art studio, perfecting the details on the paintings and deciding the order we want to put them in for the auction.
The second we got back from our weekend away, Charlotte bombarded me with a list of ideas for the new series of videos she wants to create on one of the social medias she set up for me. I want to learn, but it’s all so overwhelming. The idea of creating something to post all the time and then having to stress about whether or not it’s being seen sounds like something I don’t really have time for. Luckily, it’s something Charlotte loves to do, so I agreed to hire her as my social media manager once I can get enough funds coming in to pay her. With the way it’s going now, considering the recognition the clinic has gotten recently, I’m feeling more than a little optimistic.
With the idea of advertising for the auction as well as the festival, I think the tourist side of Blue Grove is going to be in full swing this weekend. To some people, it’s nothing special. It seems small and boring and slow. But that’s exactly whatisspecial about Blue Grove. It doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is.
It’s a small town tucked away in the mountains, filled with small town folks who enjoy being in everyone else’s business but their own. The friendliest people are found here and most of them are family. Really, all of us are family. And when something happens to someone else, we rally around them like a family should.
Like the time Dad was supposed to be home for a month at Christmas but left after a week and the town made sure I still had a special Christmas anyways. Fran and Cordie showed up with baked goods and hot cocoa, Frank brought more gifts than I could have imagined, and naturally the Waters family came too and tried to convince Mom to join a game of volleyball to which she called them all insane for and stayed inside. George stayed with her under the guise of keeping her company, but really, he just needed the floral answers to his crossword. Dad, of course, apologized for breaking his promise, but the opportunity came to travel to some other country that needed help with conservation. Sometimes I wish he could focus on that here.
Why couldn’t he?
