Peace. Tranquility. Love.
“Please don’t start again with that standing meditation thingy,” Zoe said. “I’m just saying something is going on if you’re hobbling around like a Hobbit.”
I opened my eyes. “Hobbits don’t hobble.”
“Then why the name?”
I crossed my arms. “The two words aren’t even related! If they hobbled, their names would be Hobbles, not Hobbits.”
“I think they would be Hobblers.”
I sighed. “I will not continue this conversation.”
“Whatever,” she said.
I kept silent, deciding to let her have the last word.
Luckily, Zoe had also decided she’d had enough of talking nonsense. She leaned back on the bed, rested her head on the pillow, and closed her eyes.
Finally, a moment of peace.
I sat down in the chair in front of the window, set the alarm on my phone to wake her up in two hours, wrapped the ice pack around my ankle, then turned on my Kindle.
A minute later, a very light snore came from the bed. I slowly swiveled around in the chair to take a peek at Zoe, who was already fast asleep.
It made me smile.
I got back up and grabbed the quilt from the end of the bed and gently covered her, careful not to wake her. She almost looked like an angel, but she didn’t fool me. Zoe was a handful beyond measure.
Exactly two hours later, my phone vibrated.
I set my Kindle down and walked over to the bed, ready to rouse the beast. I moved closer and tugged on the quilt near her feet, trying to awaken her without startling her.
Nothing.
I tugged on the quilt again.
Still nothing.
I tilted my head to the side, trying to listen for breathing, but wasn’t able to detect any. No matter how close I got, I couldn’t hear a thing. And since Zoe was on her side, I could not see if her chest was rising and falling from breathing. Was something wrong with her? I really couldn’t tell. I moved even closer—our faces almost touching.
She smelled fantastic, like those Smarties candies I used to love as a kid for Halloween, with maybe a hint of orange. I blocked her alluring scent out of my lizard brain as I continued to look for some sign of life.
I panicked and moved even closer for a listen.
“What are you doing?” Zoe asked.
I jumped back, slamming my good ankle against the nightstand, holding in the curses that wanted to fly from my mouth from the pain.
“What areyoudoing?” I said. “You scared the crap out of me!”
“I woke up with your face in my face!” Zoe said. “I’m the one who should be scared.”
“I was trying to listen to your breathing,” I said. “I thought—”
Her mouth dropped open. “What kind of sick, twisted—”
I held up my hand. “I thought you were dead.”