Page 30 of Time for You
“When the cook has her afternoon off, I have assembled a sandwich, yes.”
“See?” Ellie said. “He can handle a sandwich. We’ll put everything out for him, even. Literally all of us are on call today, so it’s not like we have another choice.”
“I have even been known to open a cupboard, if the situation calls for it.”
“Then what’s he going to do all day?”
“Again, he’s a human, not a corgi. He won’t pee on the carpets if we’re gone for twelve hours. We’ve got books.”
“I repeat, I am right here, part of this conversation.” Henry crossed his arms, now in a white T-shirt Vibol had given him. Daphne looked away, mostly on account of those goddamn biceps. She’d seen Vibol in that shirt before, but that hadn’t made her stomach flip.
Ellie gestured at him. “See? We could even set him up with like, YouTube or something. Let him learn about modern life.”
Daphne kept her gaze on her roommate. “You want to leave a white man from the nineteenth century alone with the white-nationalist radicalization machine?”
“Okay yeah, good point,” Ellie said, making a face. “We can make a Netflix list for him, let him learn about life through our algorithm, not theirs.”
“Can’t I just read?” Henry asked. “I don’t much fancy working with logarithms.”
“That’s not what we meant,” Daphne said. “And no, we can’t explain what we did mean. And you could read, yeah, but if you’re going to be here for a while, you might as well immerse yourself in our culture.”
Ellie went to their TV to pick what she felt would be the “most helpful” movies for him, while Daphne walked him through where he could find bread, sliced turkey, and cheese for a sandwich.
“Henry, have you ever read Jane Austen?” Ellie called from her perch on the couch.
“My sisters made sure of it,” he replied.
“Aren’t your sisters younger than you?” Daphne asked.
“They are. Both are blessed with quite forceful personalities,” he said. “You’d like them.”
A flash of sadness crossed his face and Daphne averted her eyes, feeling like she was suddenly intruding. She wanted to say something, maybe something gentle likeyou must miss them, but then Ellie called him over to explain how remotes worked and the moment passed.
Ellie looked positively invigorated when they left the hospital just over twelve hours later, but Daphne felt, as usual, almost dead on her feet. Nothing had gone wrong, other than the usual ER chaos, but she felt drained and like she wanted to cry, while Ellie excitedly listed all her accomplishments. Daphne leaned against the window of the light-rail as they rode home, watching the lights of the city flicker past.
“I’ll make the pizza if you want to shower,” Ellie offered as they approached their door. “And I’ll deal with him, since you look like you need a break.”
Daphne did need a break. Possibly a weeklong one where she was unconscious, just to feel like she’d recovered from the exhaustion of doing her dream job. She pushed their door open and stopped, leaving Ellie to smack right into her back, because—had she fallen asleep? Was she so unbelievably tired that she was hallucinating? Had she actually hit her head when she crashed into Henry, and now she was experiencing the delayed results of that TBI?
Because Henry was standing in their kitchen, wearing anapron. Daphne hadn’t even known they owned an apron, but there he was, wearing one and looking positively delighted.
“What’s the 411, ladies?” he asked.
“Um, what?” Daphne said, tossing her keys to the side.
“What’s happening?”
“Henry, are you—okay?” Ellie asked.
“Totally awesome,” he replied. “I made you dinner.”
“You made dinner?” Daphne asked. “Do you know how?”
“As if,” he said, and something clicked into place.
“Did Ellie have you watchClueless?”
“She did. And I figured out how to make those pizzas you love.”
