The Eye of the Beholder (7)
“Morning Tabby Cat,” Preston said, not turning from the computer to look at his friend and roommate. He always gave her time to wake up and get coffee before she had to face him.
“And morning to you Pres.” Tabitha was used to his ways now and didn’t push it, heading directly to the kitchen, asking as she went, “Did you eat anything?”
“Yeah, toast and juice.”
“Pres,” she growled.
“Not hungry right now, I’ll get something later.”
“Promise?”
“Yes I promise.”
Coffee in hand she came back into the living room of her apartment which she was now sharing with him. She and Preston had been friends since he’d moved to the city. They had met at the coffee shop where she’d worked part time while studying for her nursing degree. Something had clicked between them, enough so that he’d told her right from the start that all they could be was friends. That was fine with her, she had too much on her plate between school and work to even think of getting into a relationship. A year later she’d gotten her degree and then a job offer from County General. At that point they had drifted apart, connecting only rarely as both of them were busy with their own lives.
Then came the night Preston had ended up at the hospital. She’d been working the night shift and was assigned to take care of a new patient once he was stitched up and given a bed. His face was so heavily bandaged she hadn’t realized it was him when she’d first come into the room. One look at his chart and she had gasped in shock seeing his name.
She was still there the following morning when he finally regained consciousness even though her shift was over. He had seemed vaguely aware of where he was and after a few moments had recognized her.
“Why are you here,” he’d managed to ask, barely able to get the words out through bruised, cut lips.
“I work here, remember. Now shush and I’ll let your doctor know you’re awake. Once he’d checked you over we can talk, or more I’ll talk and you’ll listen. Got that mister?”
Even though she knew it had to hurt him he had tried to smile and gave a small nod.
Two days and several tense discussions later he had signed himself out of the hospital. She hadn’t been able to change his mind about that or about his not letting his family and friends know what had happened. Deeming him the most stubborn man she had ever met she had finally taken things in hand to the extent of offering to let him stay at her place. It really was larger than she needed but she’d fallen in love with it on sight and now she was glad she had. Once she convinced him that he would need someone to dress his wounds and take care of him until he regained his strength he had grudging agreed. The only proviso he’d made was that she was to tell no one where he was. She’s reluctantly promised that she wouldn’t.
“And morning to you Pres.” Tabitha was used to his ways now and didn’t push it, heading directly to the kitchen, asking as she went, “Did you eat anything?”
“Yeah, toast and juice.”
“Pres,” she growled.
“Not hungry right now, I’ll get something later.”
“Promise?”
“Yes I promise.”
Coffee in hand she came back into the living room of her apartment which she was now sharing with him. She and Preston had been friends since he’d moved to the city. They had met at the coffee shop where she’d worked part time while studying for her nursing degree. Something had clicked between them, enough so that he’d told her right from the start that all they could be was friends. That was fine with her, she had too much on her plate between school and work to even think of getting into a relationship. A year later she’d gotten her degree and then a job offer from County General. At that point they had drifted apart, connecting only rarely as both of them were busy with their own lives.
Then came the night Preston had ended up at the hospital. She’d been working the night shift and was assigned to take care of a new patient once he was stitched up and given a bed. His face was so heavily bandaged she hadn’t realized it was him when she’d first come into the room. One look at his chart and she had gasped in shock seeing his name.
She was still there the following morning when he finally regained consciousness even though her shift was over. He had seemed vaguely aware of where he was and after a few moments had recognized her.
“Why are you here,” he’d managed to ask, barely able to get the words out through bruised, cut lips.
“I work here, remember. Now shush and I’ll let your doctor know you’re awake. Once he’d checked you over we can talk, or more I’ll talk and you’ll listen. Got that mister?”
Even though she knew it had to hurt him he had tried to smile and gave a small nod.
Two days and several tense discussions later he had signed himself out of the hospital. She hadn’t been able to change his mind about that or about his not letting his family and friends know what had happened. Deeming him the most stubborn man she had ever met she had finally taken things in hand to the extent of offering to let him stay at her place. It really was larger than she needed but she’d fallen in love with it on sight and now she was glad she had. Once she convinced him that he would need someone to dress his wounds and take care of him until he regained his strength he had grudging agreed. The only proviso he’d made was that she was to tell no one where he was. She’s reluctantly promised that she wouldn’t.
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