Page 14 of Maple Sugar Mix-Up
As soon as a nurse found out I was awake, my mother had to say her goodbyes. It seemed my new status as a rather major donor had given her a little leeway in terms of visiting hours. She assured me that she’d text me when she got home and that she’d be spending the night at my place, so she’d be there in the morning when Vicki got up.
The nurse assured me that I had the type of concussion that was safe to sleep with, so after a quick check-up, she turned off the lights and left.
I assumed I’d be wide awake for hours, but I fell asleep quickly. At some point another nurse came and woke me to check on me and change out my IV bag.
Most of the next day involved flicking through the limited TV channels and waiting for my surgery. To my dismay, I discovered that I had fallen on my phone; the screen had a nasty crack and it wouldn’t turn on. I used the hospital phone to confirm my mother was with Beth and Vicki and that my daughter wasn’t too panicked, then went back to more waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting…
The time for my surgery came and went and several more hours passed. At last, a doctor came to check on me and dropped the news that there had been a large number of ice-related injuries and that they had been backed up dealing with people who needed more urgent care than I did.
I didn’t really mind the delay, until they revealed I’d be laid up for another night. Of course, with my luck, the next day they took me into surgery and discovered I had developed fracture blisters. Back to my room I went; this time with antibiotics and no surgery time in sight.
My mother arrived with Vicki, flowers, and a special Valentine’s Day cupcake for me. I didn’t celebrate the holiday single, but it felt nice to be a little pampered. It also explained why every nurse I had seen was wearing scrubs with hearts on them.
Once they were gone I kicked back and settled in for a potentially long hospital stay.
Maybe, I sometimes thought with a self-deprecating chuckle, that this was the universe’s way of telling me I should have invited Jace to stay for the night. Never would have slipped on the ice.
I couldn’t resist worrying a little about him – between daydreaming and fantasizing about him, of course – with my phone broken, I didn’t even know if he had gotten back to his car safely. Whenever I did think of him, I reminded myself that it was a one shot deal. A one night stand. While I certainly hoped he had made it home and gotten his car taken care of, it technically wasn’t my concern anymore. Nevertheless, it was impossible to push him completely out of my mind.
At last, after a week in the hospital, I was cleared for surgery. The time had passed surprisingly quickly and I suspected being somewhat loopy from the painkillers had something to do with it. It also proved easy to sleep when I literally couldn’t do anything but sit in bed.
The surgery went well and when my foot was all pinned into place and stuck in a big cast, I went back to my room one last time, waiting to get discharged.
And then the last person I would have expected appeared in the doorway.
Chapter Six
Jace
It was a week before Paul and I crossed paths at the hospital.
“How was your date?” he asked, having the grace to look a little sheepish.
“Don’t ask,” I muttered.
“That bad?”
I shut the file in front of me with a bit more force than necessary. “He ghosted me!”
Paul arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that good? I thought you didn’t want to date.”
“I don’t,” I said, before heaving a sigh. “But it… it wentreallywell.”
At least I thought it had. Sure, Ashton and I made it clear to each other we weren’t looking for a relationship. But the asshole hadn’t even replied to my text after our date – letting him know my car just needed a jump and I was home safe.
Not that I had volunteered in the information that my damn car cost so much to jump that I had been forced to rely on hospital food all week.
Still, he could have at least acknowledged the message.
I spent the entire next day convincing myself I didn’t need to call him. It didn’t matter it was the best date I had been on in years. It wasn’t ever meant to go anywhere.
On Valentine's Day though, I was surrounded by hearts and love and I cracked and called him. I honestly wasn’t sure what I was expecting or what I wanted. I supposed I was planning to just feel him out and see if he wanted to do something casual. But my call went straight to voicemail.
After that I felt compelled to call just to make sure he’d answer. Part of me still wanted to connect, but another part wanted to make sure he wasn’t screening my calls. So I called again. And again. Every call went straight to voicemail. For three fucking days.
