Feels like Rain (Lake Fisher 3)

“Don’t think we’ll have to worry about that anymore.”

She smiles. “I don’t think we will.”

And I stay there the whole night, just waiting for those fleeting moments when he’s awake. His mom stays too, and Derrick’s there but he doesn’t try to come into the room. Instead, he lingers in the hallway just outside Ethan’s room and occasionally looks through the window to check on him. Jake and Mr. Jacobson leave as soon as they both give blood, but they promise to come back tomorrow.

I hear Ethan’s mom whisper to Mr. Jacobson as he hugs her before leaving, “You always believed in Ethan, didn’t you?” she asks him.

He doesn’t reply. He just pops a toothpick in his mouth, winks a

t her, and leaves, with Jake following along behind.

39

Ethan

Three days. That’s how long they keep me in the hospital. On the third day, I’m going stir crazy lying in the bed. Even having Abigail around doesn’t help much. I want to go home.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” she gripes. She’s slouched in a chair next to the bed with a book in her hands, her feet resting on the bed next to my hip. She sets the book to the side. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

I toss the covers back. “Yes, please.”

“Hang on,” she warns as she tugs my hospital gown down a little. “You’re going to show your junk to all the nurses.”

“Do you think they’d be impressed?” I can tell I’m feeling better because my dick is perking up just because she’s talking about it.

“No, I think they wouldn’t be able to see it because I would have stabbed their eyes out first.” She brings my slippers over. My mom left them for me yesterday, along with some pajamas. The nurses wouldn’t let me change into the pajamas since I occasionally need pain meds by injection. I’m trying not to take them, though, unless I really need them. They muddle my mind up too much.

“Thanks,” I say as I slip my feet into the slippers.

My side really feels better, and I don’t feel my spleen at all. My arm, on the other hand, has its own very painful throb at times. It hurts. I hold it close to my body as I get up. Abigail helps me drape a robe around my shoulders.

“Ready?” she asks.

I nod.

We walk slowly toward the nurses’ station, and one very smart brunette smiles at me as I walk by. “You got some more flowers, Ethan,” she says as she points to a bouquet on the counter. I heave in a breath and let it out. I have gotten no less than twenty flower arrangements from well-intentioned people in the community, all of whom feel guilty about the way they’ve treated me.

“Can you find somebody who needs them?” I ask her, rocking my head toward the bouquet.

She knows what I mean. After the first two, I started asking the nurses to find people in the hospital who never got visitors, or old people who didn’t have anyone to care for them, or teenagers who might like the pick-me-up, or—hell, anyone who would appreciate them. They’ve been giving them out to people who are a lot more deserving.

I round the corner and stop when I come face to face with Imogene and Derrick, my former mother- and father-in-law. Imogene is in a wheelchair, but she’s wearing street clothes and has a travel bag in her lap. She kind of looks like she’s on the way out the door.

“We were just on the way to see you, Ethan,” Imogene says quietly. She can barely look me in the eye.

Abigail makes a rude noise and tugs my elbow to get me moving.

“Please don’t go just yet,” Imogene says, her voice a little louder now. “I need to thank you.”

“No need,” I mutter carelessly. “Glad you’re okay.” I walk on past her and down the hallway.

“No, please wait,” she says a little louder. “I’m sorry!” Every person unlucky enough to be in the hallway freezes. “I’m sorry for the way we treated you!” she says again, her voice rising.

Abigail heaves out a sigh and looks at me, asking me what I want to do. I walk back to the pair of them. I’ve seen Derrick hanging out outside my hospital room. I could see him through the window. He stood there, staring at nothing, like he’s contemplating life. But not once did he try to come into my room. Not that my mom or Abigail would have let him, but still.

I come to a stop and stand in front of them, prepared to let them have their say. Suddenly, Imogene clams up.

Abigail rolls her eyes. “You’d be dead right now if not for him.” She jerks her thumb in my direction. “He saved your life, even after you treated him terribly.”