Page 5 of Will & Patrick's Endless Honeymoon
“No way.”
“Wants to see Dylan.”
“Wow.” Dylan is three now, and Tom hasn’t been interested before. “What’s she going to do?”
The bell rings on the door behind him and Jax steps back from the counter when he sees who it is. “You’ll have to ask Jenny. Meantime, I think your coffee date is here. I’ll get her Americano West prepared and bring it on over.”
“William Patterson.” His mother’s voice is scolding and full of pain all at once.
Will sighs and turns around, his head throbbing again. “Mom. Hey, did you sleep okay?”
“I most certainly did not.” She turns up her pretty nose and sniffs. The purple silk of her clingy summer dress shows off her cleavage and hips nicely. Her makeup is flatteringly done, and her long blond hair flips under at the ends. The cowboy boots are the only giveaway that she works every day at a tack shop and is an excellent horsewoman.
“I’m sorry you didn’t sleep well. I thought I did, but I guess not, since I’ve got a rotten headache this morning.”
“Have you checked your BG?” she asks, her eyes widening in concern.
“Of course. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He smiles and takes hold of her elbow. “C’mon. Let’s find a seat. Jax saw you come in and he’ll have your usual right over.”
“And I’d like a Honeybear Bar too,” she calls over her shoulder as Will steers her toward a private table near the front.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jax answers with a nod, but without the handsome, flirty grin he usually shoots at pretty customers.
Will makes a mental note to follow up with him about Jenny later or poke at Patrick to see what he knows. The fact that Tom is back in the picture is a complication Jax doesn’t need. Will feels for the guy, but Jenny is Patrick’s best friend, and if things ever truly fall apart, he knows which side he’ll have to take to keep the peace in his own life.
Not that Patrick won’t tell Jenny all the ways she’s being an asshole if he doesn’t think she’s being fair. But, in the end, Patrick and Jenny are a forever thing, even if Jax and Jenny aren’t. Will knows it. Jax knows it. The whole world knows it. Heck, even Kimberly probably knows it.
Speaking of, his mother is busy powdering her nose and looking offended. He’ll have to break the ice.
“So, you’re worried about Caitlin going off to college, huh?” He’s going to stop by the house after work so he can say goodbye to his sister and make sure Caitlin knows he’s there for her anytime for anything.
“You didn’t think it was important last night, why do you want to talk about it now?” She blinks at him angrily, which is a thing he’s never known a person can do until now.
Stalling, he takes a bite of jelly donut and chews slowly.
She eyes him for a long moment and then finally says, “It’s still unnerving to watch you eat without giving yourself a shot first.”
Will smiles and wipes his fingers on a napkin. “For me too, but it’s been a good switch.”
Sometimes he wishes he’d kept on giving himself insulin injections despite Patrick’s urging to try out the newest sensor and pump advertised as the world’s first “artificial pancreas.” Even though there haven’t been any malfunctions, Will can’t stop the occasional paranoia, especially after semi-rough sex or going out riding, that the sensor may have dislodged and his monitor might not be getting the right readings to dispense insulin.
But Patrick is fastidious about checking the sensor and infusion sites, morning and night, and there’s never been an incident. So Will continues on with the pump. It’s freeing in a lot of ways—he can travel more easily and eat without the whole test, calc, stick routine. More importantly, he’s gone nine months without an A1C higher than six, which means better overall health in the long run.
Patrick loves that he can check the readings on his phone and gets alerts to any big dip or rise in Will’s blood sugar. Still, Will misses the sense of control shots always afforded him and the comfort of knowing exactly how much insulin is going into his body at any point in time.
He tries again. “About Caitlin.”
“What about her?”
“Mom.”
Kimberly tucks her hair behind her ears and snarls, “He said I was inane.”
She isn’t using Patrick’s name, so that mean’s she’s still angry. At least she isn’t calling him ‘that doctor’ or ‘that man’ the way she did when they were first married.
“No, Patrick said yourcrisiswas inane.”
She narrows her eyes. “You always defend him. I’m your mother. You could defend me for once.”
