Page 19 of A Case of You
“Think of going back to work as a goal,” Brandon said as he watched Jeff push a green bean around his plate with his fork. “Something to earn. I hated having to tell you to stop working, but this had to be done.”
“I know.” The Xanax would kick in any time. Brandon hoped to get him to eat as much as possible before that happened, knowing that the meds might knock him out. Jeff wasn’t used to taking them, and the doctor had warned Brandon that over the first couple of days, it might mean Jeff fell asleep on them.
At least him driving or operating heavy machinery wasn’t an option right now.
Thankfully.
“I was thinking about maybe pricing out hot tubs,” Brandon said. “Especially if you think it’ll help with your pain.” The pool was heated, so at least Jeff was able to get in it several times a week and pool walk for exercise. Low-impact, gentle on his body, and keeping him moving in a way that wouldn’t harm him.
“Is it in the budget?”
“We can make it work. Used ones aren’t bad at all. Not an in-ground one, obviously.”
“If you think so, Sir.” Jeff still poked at the same green bean, but at least he’d finished his mac and cheese and the pork.
“Can I get you to eat some more macaroni for me?”
Jeff let out a long sigh. “I guess, Sir.”
Brandon set his plate on the coffee table and took Jeff’s back to the kitchen. Stuart started to jump up from the table to help, but Brandon waved him back down. “I got it.” He offered him a smile. “Go ahead and eat.”
He didn’t dish very much out for Jeff, not wanting to overwhelm him. When Brandon returned to the couch, Jeff stared at the plate for a moment, where Brandon had set it on the tray on his lap.
“You okay, buddy?”
Another sigh, followed by a shrug.
Houston, we have lift-off.The Xanax must have kicked in.
“Eat that for me, please,” Brandon said.
Finally, Jeff started doing it.
Okay, well, that was a bonus. Maybe they wouldn’t have to wheedle and beg to get him to eat. Jeff hadn’t exactly been obese to start with. Right now, he was perfectly in the center of a weight-to-height chart ratio, except he looked borderline gaunt to Brandon’s loving eyes.
Stuart had privately commented on it, too.
It was usually easier to get Jeff to eat breakfast than dinner. Brandon made a mental note to add more things like instant cream of wheat and oatmeal to the shopping list. Stuff he knew Jeff liked and would eat, that would also hopefully be easy on his stomach and was easy for him to prepare.
But it was difficult, especially if Jeff wasn’t up and about by the time he and Stuart left for work, to monitor Jeff’s morning diet.
Finally, Jeff finished the macaroni Brandon had brought him.
It reminded Brandon in some ways of when Emma was a baby and started eating. She’d been a picky eater at first, until she hit three years old.
From that point on, she’d been like a starving piranha.
But during her picky phase, trying to get her to eat sometimes took a two-person song and dance act between him and Tracey, their own food going cold while trying to make sure more of Emma’s food went in her mouth than it did on the floor or walls.
Or ceiling.
Three times.
Brandon decided to go for broke. “Feel like more macaroni?”
Another shrug.
He took it as a yes and brought him another serving.
