“It’s this coverlet. I had it commissioned as well. It’s based on a painting she likes.”
“Memoriam,” Damon read. “Memory.”
“Actually, it’s called ‘Choosing.’ It’s one of Elena’s favorites. Somehow I found that a bit . . . ironic.”
“Not anymore.” Damon gave his sweetest smile. “Thank you, on Elena’s behalf, for both of these. I’m sure she’ll enjoy receiving them—again.”
He waited a minute and then added, “You know what’s really odd, though? I don’t see any signs of you leaving here.”
“I thought I might stay and try to put the room back together.”
“Right now? And outrage your neighbors all over again? Just leave it! If the police ever do come, it can be part of my story. ‘My own room got trashed and Elena kindly took me in.’”
“Fine, then. I’m going.”
“See you around,” Damon said dourly.
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
* * *
“What happened? Why am I lying down?” Bonnie said abruptly into the silence that pervaded Elena’s room. She reached up and touched her head. “Why am I wet and lying down?” she added querulously, as her fingers encountered the melting ice pack.
Elena looked at Meredith and nodded. Meredith, who had been standing by Bonnie’s side, bent over her and spoke quietly. “You had another little . . . episode. And then you fainted and hit your head. The icepack was Damon’s idea.”
“Oh.” Bonnie stopped trying to remove it. “What did I say this time?”
Meredith glanced at Elena, who shook her head. Meredith bit her lip.
“Bonnie . . . let’s just go home now. I’ll bring a pizza and you can lie down in your own bed.”
There was a silence.
“It was that bad?” Bonnie asked in a small voice at last.
“It just doesn’t need to be repeated,” Elena said. “Not this evening. Listen to Meredith, Bonnie. You’ll feel better soon. And thank you so much for my beautiful room.”
Bonnie hesitated, but Meredith was already urging her up. Elena insisted that they take an entire pizza with them, along with the ice pack, wrapped in fresh paper towels.
“I suppose that I’d better go, too,” Caroline said, and accepted a box of pizza herself, along with Elena’s thanks.
After she was gone, Elena seemed to deflate, as if she were stripped of her company mood. She suggested that Matt eat some of the third pizza, and then she sat and stared into a middle distance.
Matt wasn’t hungry. He was cursing himself for being a coward. He could see how shaken Elena was. He wanted to go to her and put an arm around her again—just as a friend—but he didn’t quite dare while they were alone.
Although that didn’t make any sense. Damon could hardly be jealous of an arm around Elena’s shoulder when he had kissed Bonnie—twice—as “shock treatment” and nothing more.
Of course, the whole shock treatment argument just led Matt’s mind into more trouble. For one thing, it hadn’t worked: Bonnie was still having those psychogenic trances or whatever. And for another; well, it was pretty clear that Damon liked Bonnie. A lot. Enough that, in Matt’s opinion, it was fairly insulting to Elena.
Matt rubbed his forehead and blinked a few times, trying to get rid of what was a very bad feeling about his very best friend.
“Getting a headache, too?” Elena asked in a subdued voice.
“No,” Matt said hastily. “No, I’m fine.”
“None of us are fine tonight. Not after what happened with Bonnie.”