That Blue Gibson

CH 91

Even before she opened her eyes, she knew Dave was there. His soft voice mixed with Jack's quiet giggle made her heart flutter and she lifted her head to see him sitting next to the hospital bed she was sharing with Jack, showing him something on his phone. 

"Lemme see it again," Jack whispered and Dave gave an exaggerated sigh before restarting the video on the screen.

"I couldn't see this cord or box here, and I just- see? Tripped right over it!"

Jack's hand flew to his mouth to cover his gasp, "Did it hurt?"

"Not at first...," he started to explain but trailed off when Liz sat up and weakly smiled at him.

She looked around to get her bearings and noticed the table next to her had a large coffee and a container of fruit along with a bag she recognized from home.

"There's breakfast and a change of clothes," Dave said warily. "I thought you might..."

"You went by the house?" she asked and glanced at the clock, reading it was only 5:30 in the morning. There was no way he could have driven all over and slept any decent amount, but he nodded and that was all it took for her to finally realize she had totally fucked everything up. She took a breath to say, 'I'm sorry, I love you, come back to me' but it came out as, "How was Owen?"

"Sound asleep," he smiled and handed Jack a bowl of oatmeal from a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf bag while Liz climbed out of the bed and tried to straighten her wrinkled clothes. "Go change," he waved her off and began to help Jack figure out the TV remote. "I got this."

Leaving the door cracked a little in case Jack needed her, she purposely avoided looking in the tiny mirror above the sink in the cramped bathroom, completely unwilling to analyze how terrible she probably looked. The night before, Dave had stayed at the hospital until Jack was safely out of surgery and settled comfortably in his room, then quietly left once Liz had finally fallen asleep curled up next to Jack. She noticed he was in a much better mood than yesterday, not as quiet or sad, even running off of such little sleep he seemed more upbeat. He's probably amped up on a quad shot espresso, she thought and smiled a little while rubbing her shoulder. 

She hurt all over, mostly from her fitful sleep in the world's most uncomfortable hospital bed and the intensely vivid dreams she had. Though it was just a fuzzy memory now, she had been jolted awake by a dream where she had been on her surfboard, paddling as hard as she could to get past the break line and out to the calm waters, but the waves kept pushing her back. They were intense and in uneven intervals so she couldn't even time her dives right, she was completely at the mercy of the ocean. Frustrated, she sat up on her board and screamed at the vast expanse of water beyond. Quit pushing me away! and with that, it finally connected in her brain. Take your own damn advice. One thing at a time. Fix yourself and then you can try again... if he'll let you. 

Satisfied that there was at least one plan in place, she looked in the bag Dave had packed her and began to pull out her clothes. Jeans, a white t-shirt, her favorite black hoodie. He knows me so well, she thought with a smile and reached back in the bag, feeling her heart stop when she pulled out the white lace bra and panties she had bought in Paris. Goddamnit, she thought, holding them up to look at them, of course he went through my fucking underwear drawers. Travis wouldn't even touch the box her underwear was in when she was moving, so she knew Dave had packed all this himself. 

"Hey," his voice startled her so much that she gasped and jumped away from the bag as if it were full of snakes. He leaned against the door frame with a mouth full of donut and nodded at the lace in her hands. "Yeah," he teasingly grinned at her, "those are fun. When'd you get those?"