15. Ethan

"We'd becozy little peas in a pod here in the house, Ethan. Your place is too small."

I'm beginning to regret coming over to ask Gran for some pointers to welcome Lia into my cabin while she recuperates. Seems like the easiest thing to do would be to relocate Asher to my place and I could look after her at theirs, but Asher says I don't have enough internet for his fancy computer crap.

"She can't be doing the stairs up and down, Gran." I hurry to grab the stock pot from the rack for her before she bops herself on the head. "And neither should you, probably."

She waves a hand. "Pish." Gesturing for the pot, she points to the largest burner on the stove and buries herself in the fridge, rooting around for ingredients. "I'm going to make a huge pot of chicken soup and puree it and then have Colleen bring it over. I don't trust you to balance the seasoning."

"I can get the soup, Gran. Colleen has work to do."

"Suit yourself." She closes the fridge and starts whacking at a chicken carcass with a cleaver. Her hands fly through the work, hurling onions and carrots and celery at the stove. She pauses and puts her hands on her hips. "Do you think fresh herbs would be too much for her stomach? I've got the nicest parsley coming up downstairs…"

I shake my head. "No idea. I wrote down ginger and … turmeric."

"Oh, that's right. Well, head down to the cellar and help me get her some mint and chamomile. We'll make some tea, too."

I had no idea tea was something someone could make, but of course it's all plants. I see that I have a lot to learn about growing food. A lot more than I ever thought I'd care to learn. I follow Gran to her insane garden and try to follow instructions as I pick from among the plants in her tent.

"Let me just rinse these off."

I nod and watch as Gran grabs the handheld sprayer attached to the utility sink. She rinses dirt from the mint leaves and chamomile stems and an idea forms in my head. There might just be something nice I can do for Lia to make her more comfortable, considering the tight quarters.

I'm not sure why I feel so compelled to take care of her like this. Maybe it's because she thought I couldn't before.

Maybe it's because I want her in my house, now and always.

I clear my throat. "I'm going to head home with the tea. I'll come back for the soup in the morning."

By the time we got Lia discharged, Asher had filled my house with her clothes, blankets, and cases of fancy vegan baby formula—the only type we could find in Climax without dairy on short notice. I left her to get settled in when Gran called to say she was fixing to puree the entire house. I suspect we will all be on a liquid diet alongside Lia.

I don't exactly own a tea service, so Gran sent me with a kettle and a mesh strainer, with instructions for steeping the basement herbs. I halt in my doorway and nearly drop the basket when I see Lia through the open doorway to my bedroom.

She stands with her back to me, shirtless, the glorious line of her spine on display for an instant as she tugs a sweatshirt over her head. No bra.

I chastise myself for thinking these kinds of thoughts about a woman who just got out of the hospital. I clear my throat to announce my presence and she whips around, startled.

"Ethan."

I hold up the basket. "Gran sent stuff to make tea. She's got a vat of soup she's making for tomorrow."

Lia wrings her hands and looks around my cabin. "This is all really too much. I'm practically a stranger."

I set the basket on the counter and fill the kettle from the tap, keeping one eye on my almost forever. "You could never be a stranger here." The gas burner clicks and lights and I go about sliding the strainer into one of my mugs to make Lia's tea. "I forgot to ask if you even want a cup of tea."

She smiles. "Tea would be perfect." Lia walks into the living room and sits hesitantly on the couch, one arm across her middle. "I still don't know where you'll sleep?"

I tip my chin at the couch as the kettle begins to whistle. I pour the hot water into the mug, watching the tiny plants swirl and float inside the strainer. "Hell, I fall asleep on the couch half the time anyway."

Lia snickers. "Colleen said you slept with Baabara a few weeks ago."

I snort a laugh and carry the mug, along with a jar of honey and a spoon, over to the couch. "I did do that, yes. So, you can see, the couch is an upgrade."

Lia reaches for the mug and inhales. "Oh, this smells so nice. Is that fresh chamomile?"

I nod. "I just learned that Gran has an indoor garden operation in the basement. She's got lights and lumens and a humidity monitor."

Lia makes an impressed face. "I should ask what her summer plans are for all of it. Maybe there's something we can add into the grant."

I scratch my head and lean against the wall, not sure if I should sit next to Lia on the sofa, if that would make her uncomfortable. "I know she moves some of it outside, but I doubt she's got anything to the scale we'd need for farm grants."

Lia blows on the tea. "You'd be surprised. People can pack a lot into a small space if they use the land strategically." She sets the mug on the coffee table and claps her hands. "Oh, I wonder if we could couch it as a healing garden! Mint, chamomile…do you know if she's doing echinacea or witch hazel? Shoot, where is my laptop?"

I pull the notebook from my back pocket and thumb past the pages of notes I took regarding Lia's care. "Here. You can write down your questions and ask her in the morning. I'm sure Asher forgot to bring your work stuff."

Lia arches a brow. "What makes you say that?"

I shrug. "Because he's freaking out about his own work." I decide to just go ahead and sit next to Lia on the couch, watching her sip at her tea and scratch out notes about Gran's garden. "I never wanted that kind of life—stressing about deadlines and spending ten hours sitting in a chair."

"Well, you've got some pretty intense deadlines with the growing cycle. It's just a race against bugs and over-ripening instead of another person tapping a watch."

"I guess that's true."

Lia finishes the tea and sets the mug on the table, sinking into the couch to rest her head on the back. I reach around and grab a Baabara sweater, tucking the huge garment over Lia's lap like a blanket. She smiles and the moment feels so right. Like I've been tucking her in all my life.

"Thank you, Ethan," she whispers, her eyes growing heavy.

"Any time, Lia." I watch as she slowly drifts off beside me, not sure if it's exhaustion or medication taking her under so quickly. I stoop to pick her up, carrying her into my bedroom and setting her into the nest she made of my bed.

By the time I get the kitchen cleaned up and organized, the stress of the day settles in hard. I hadn't realized how afraid I was when Lia was shrieking in pain, hadn't stopped to let myself think about what it meant to see her hurting. I have a long history of stomping down painful memories, telling myself it doesn't do to dwell on those things.

Tonight, it feels important to close my eyes and breathe, to think about how yes, Lia was in agony, but I managed to get her to the hospital. I'm still stunned that the small Climax satellite campus had the sort of doctor Lia needed.

I lie back on the couch, silently expressing my gratitude for that, and then I remember the doctor's larger concerns: that Lia's fancy specialist might have her on the wrong type of medication.

Lia's fancy boyfriend specialist.

She has a boyfriend. A boyfriend. If I repeat it to myself enough times, maybe I'll stop thinking about how she looks and smells and makes my stomach flip when she smiles.

I punch at the rock-hard pillow on my couch and roll to my side. It takes me a long time to fall asleep as I worry how I'll ever manage to convince Lia to take a closer look at her health.