Hey, Dad. I had a minor climbing accident, and Noah left a message for you when I was in the hospital. I’m already out and doing great, so don’t worry. Just wanted to let you know and I’ll call soon to catch up.
He dropped his phone to the bed and Gertrude sidled up against his side. He rubbed her silky ears and wondered if his inability to speak was unsettling to her. His dog’s presence improved his mood a little, even though Claire had tried to convince him to board her for a few weeks.
“Do you want her to jostle your leg when she jumps on the bed?” she’d asked the second he’d settled in, and with the usual disdain when she spoke about Gertrude.
He’d texted back. If this cast can’t withstand a six-pound terrier, I’m concerned about its ability to protect me from anything else.
“Fine. But if she hurts you and you ask for your pain meds early, it’s not happening.”
Graham had just shrugged. Claire had been strangely accommodating and kind in the hospital. To him, anyway—she’d been ruthless when dealing with hospital staff, especially if she felt they were slacking on anything related to his care. Her presence had almost been…comforting.
Now that they were back at the condo, it seemed they’d returned to baseline. He could have blamed Gertrude, but he didn’t think that’s all it was. Based on the way she’d responded to the firefighter injury, she was probably pissed at him for getting hurt, accident or not.
She’d even barked at Reagan not to touch any of his medications.
Fine by him. He had a feeling he’d need their heated banter back and forth to keep him sane while stuck in this room. At least one thing about his daily routine could feel normal until she went back to work in a few days. He’d argued he would be fine, but through the first week, Noah had arranged to come hang out for several hours on the days Claire was gone. Beyond that, Graham hoped to be mobile enough to get around the house on his own and to start to consume a somewhat normal diet.
The urge to use the restroom hit him and he sat up, putting his weight on his hands while rotating his lower body. He didn’t gauge the distance to the edge of the bed well and his injured leg bumped the wood frame before he got it all the way over. Cast or not, everything inside was still tender, and pain blazed up his shin and into his thigh.
Without thinking he clenched his teeth and a wave of agony tore through his jaw. An involuntary, silent groan of pain tried to rip from his throat. If he’d been able to, the word fuck would have left his mouth at a volume loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He slammed his fist on the bedside table, desperate for a physical outlet.
At the time, having a catheter while in the hospital had seemed unnecessary and he’d frankly been embarrassed to have one. Now, he realized he hadn’t been prepared for the ordeal of getting up and getting to the bathroom.
And on a liquid diet, it was bound to happen often.
“Graham?” Claire rushed into his room, Reagan on her heels. “What the hell are you doing?”
Heat flooded his cheeks as he pointed a shaking hand toward the hallway.
“You’re in pain. You can’t get up.” She checked her watch. “You’re due for another dose of pain medication. Just…lay back down and tell me what you need. I’ll get it.”
“I can help, too,” Reagan chimed in.
The mortification of this moment did nothing but piss him off. He pressed his good foot onto the floor for balance, and with jerky movements, grabbed his phone from where he’d left it on the bed. He tapped out a message and held the phone in Claire’s face, glaring at her as she read.
I can take a fucking piss without help.
“I’ve got it, Reagan,” Claire said, keeping her voice calm. “You’ve still got a lot of packing to do, anyway. Thanks, though.”
“Okay, just let me know if I can do anything.” Reagan offered him a sad smile before she disappeared into the hallway.
Claire handed his phone back and walked to the corner of his room. She reached into the bag she’d brought home from the hospital and pulled out a clear, plastic urinal that looked like a half-gallon milk jug.
“I grabbed one of these from the supply room. It might be easie—” She stopped when he shook his head.
He grabbed his crutches. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker he could take the meds.
“Graham, don’t be ridiculous. It’s obvious you’re hurting and this will be easier. I’m a professional, and there’s no reason to be embarrassed.”