Page 97 of On the Ropes
“I, uh…think I’m an expert now,” Tabitha said, running a hand through her untamed hair. “Thank you for teaching me. I’m going to torment Dean with my sweet moves for the rest of the night.”
“Speaking of,” I said. “I should get this dancing queen home.”
“Please, stay for another few hours. I’ll whip up some desserts,” Midge said.
I kissed her cheek. “You’ve already done so much. Thank you.”
She gave me a maternal look that didn’t need interpreted. It was happiness with a healthy dose of concern. I hadn’t bothered to hide that Tabitha and I were something. Midge also knew she had a flight to catch in two days. I nodded at her—a recognition that both were true and I didn’t have a solution to it yet, cute couple or not.
“Thank you for coming along with Dean,” Mom was saying. “You are always welcome in our house, my dear. Whenever you’re home, for however long. I mean that. Your family is our family.”
I doubted my parents picked up on the way those words affected Tabitha. But I did. She wrapped them both in a long hug that pulled on pieces of me I rarely acknowledged.
Then my parents turned the music back on and got back to their dancing.
As we walked down the sidewalk, I squeezed the back of my neck to soothe an ache there, probably from dancing. I could feel Tabitha watching me. Tonight felt different than all the others for a hundred different reasons. Outside the warmth of that dinner, reality was rushing back in.
“Thank you for inviting me,” she said as I unlocked my front door. A brief wave of dizziness came over me. I blinked, gripped the doorknob. “It was really meaningful to talk to your parents about their experiences. And to thank them for what they did for my dad. It almost felt like we were all back in our support group again. But with less stale cookies and more delicious pasta.”
I couldn’t read her body language—hesitancy or nerves? “You’ll always mean a lot to them. Here or traveling, it doesn’t matter. You know what it’s like with a found family.”
Her eyes shone in the light from the streetlamp. “You never let them go.”
I shook my head. “Never.”
A sour taste rose in my throat. Tabitha reached for my wrist. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My tongue was thick in my mouth. I blinked again, and the whole street pitched forward. And then the migraine struck me between the eyes like an icepick.
“Fuck,” I hissed, grabbing my forehead. Pain radiated from my skull, down my neck. My stomach roiled. A cold sweat broke out over my skin.
“Oh my God, Dean?” Tabitha’s arms held me up as I swayed for real this time. I would have fallen if she hadn’t propped me up. “What’s wrong?”
“Migraine,” I bit out. “They come on…fast.”
Goddammit. I must have had warning signs over dinner that I didn’t notice. It was easy to do whenever I was in Tabitha’s tempting orbit.
She whispered a curse. “I’m going to get you inside and walk you to the couch. Does that sound okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” was all I could manage.
The door gave way. She helped me walk, the nausea like a sharp knife. But she turned me until the backs of my knees touched the couch. Gently sat me down. As soon as I touched a soft surface I crawled until I could stretch out my body. The room got darker, but I still wanted to puke.
Her fingers landed on the back of my neck. “Does ice help?”
“Yeah.”
A minute later and the first real relief appeared—an ice pack Tabitha placed gently on my forehead and a soft, cool sheet she draped over my waist. The cushions dipped. I could feel her body heat but still couldn’t open my eyes. She picked up my hand and held it.
“Tabitha,” I whispered. “I have…medicine that I take. In the bathroom. Orange bottle.”
She kissed my cheek lightly. “Be right back.”
I was mildly aware of doors opening and closing. The slightest movement brought an onslaught of pain. I focused on my breathing. That Tabitha was here when I was usually alone when this happened.
Water ran in the kitchen. Her fingers caressed my face again.
“Sweetheart,” she said. Beneath the pain, my skin warmed slightly at the endearment. “I have pills, but I think you should double-check they’re the right ones.”
