Page 68 of Demo
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” I shove the wood beneath the blade, “you rarely set foot in that house for longer than five minutes. You never had to walk around under that roof with Dad, who was still very clearly waiting for Mom to come bounding in with groceries or shopping bags, having to remind him she never would again. You never had to look him in the face and break his heart, over and over and over again. And that was because I never made you do it.”
We stare off for a moment, and I see sadness flit across Bram’s face. “Knox, I—”
“Just, fuck off right now, man,” I say, turning back to the saw and adjusting the wood so it’s right where I want it.
“Knox—” he goes to reach for me, but I shrug away.
“I said fuck off!” I yell, slamming my hand down on the lever to depress the saw, and pain sears through me. “Gah, shit!”
I immediately pull away and hear Bram from somewhere in my periphery. “Oh, boy. Uh, fuck!”
I look back at Bram, who has his eyes locked near the saw, and I follow his gaze. There sits a nub of one of my fingers. Which finger, I’m not even sure. “OK, dude. Let’s get in the truck,” he says, feigning calm. “That’s gonna need um …”
“Yep. That’s definitely not good.” I hold my left hand in my right, blood trickling down my arm toward my elbow.
Bram swallows. He’s pale. He looks like he’s going to be sick. “Nah, man, I think you just grazed it,” he says. Snapping out of it, somewhat, he pulls a bandana from his back pocket. “Here, wrap your hand in this and get in my truck. No, actually, get in your truck. You’re, um, dripping.”
“Yeah, OK,” I start walking then turn back toward the saw. “What about the nub?”
“Yep.” He waves me off, and I swear he’s gagging. “I’m gonna get it. Just … looking for something to, you know, carry it in …”
I see him grab an old coffee cup, turn it upside-down and make sure it’s empty, then with one, two, three attempts he flicks the nub—covered in sawdust—into the cup, with a “gahhh” and a shiver, as if he’s handling a snake.
I can’t help but laugh, and that gets Bram’s attention. “What could possibly be funny about this situation?”
“Everything,” I say. “Everything.”
Shaking his head, Bram brushes past me. “Get in your fucking truck, bro. Let’s see if they can reattach this thing.”
***
Sitting on a bed in the ER behind a section that’s been squared-off by curtains, I’m kicking my dangling feet and whistling as an older nurse takes my vitals. She’s got gray hair pulled up into a bun with pieces sticking out here and there, and crepey skin on her arms, hands, face and neck. Her teddy bear scrubs hug her love handles and stomach, and ample bosom. She reminds me of a grandmother.
“Stop kicking your legs!” she admonishes as she secures the blood pressure cuff too tight around my arm.
A grumpy grandmother, apparently.
“Looks like you did a number on yourself,” she says, pushing her glasses up with one finger while her other hand pumps the blood pressure machine. “You sure you don’t want anything for the pain?”
I just frown and shake my head. They offered me something to take the edge off, but I declined.
“Well,” Mean Nurse begins as she releases the blood pressure cuff, “the doctor will be in as soon as he can, to …” She glances in the cup holding the nub that’s sitting on the table next to the bed. “Couldn’t you rinse it off any?” she asks, taking in the filthy thing.
Bram laughs from the corner, and that’s when I remember he’s still here.
“Feel free to leave any time,” I say to him. “I can get a ride home.”
“Nah, man. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Mean Nurse leaves, and about three seconds later the curtain slides open with force, the sound of the metal rings scraping across the rod echoes, and before me stands the image of fire. Raging, burning fire.
“Lizzie?” I say it as a question, even though I know it’s her standing there.
And of course, she looks phenomenal. I can’t help my eyes from settling on the exact right amount of cleavage exposed beneath the cardigan she’s wearing, with two buttons undone, before I rake my eyes up to her face.
Which is set in a scowl, laser eyes shooting daggers at me. She’s practically frothing at the mouth—and sexy as shit.
