Bonus Scenes – To Love and To Cherish

CLICK THE SCENE TITLES to toggle each scene open/closed on this page!
đ˝ đź An Interview with Nash Marino
Click to go to original blog post
Question: Whatâs the worst thing thatâs happened in your life? What did you learn from it?
Nash: Ha! The answer to that depends on when itâs asked of me. A few months ago I would have answered that question by saying that the breakup of my engagement to Sam was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I was miserable and angry, and the worst part of it was there was no one I could justifiably direct that anger toward. Sure, I could be upset with Sam about the way heâd handled things, but in hindsight I have to accept part of the blame for that, too. My life was in shambles. I was couch surfing at my best friendâs on top of having to start over on my search for a life companion.
If Iâm asked that question today, though, Iâd have to come up with something else. What Iâve learned since then is that that incident is actually the best thing thatâs ever happened to me because if it hadnât, I never would have gotten together with the true love of my life!
Question: Do you think youâve turned out the way your parents expected?
Nash: Sometimes I feel like Iâve turned out to be a disappointment to them, but usually thatâs just when Iâm feeling down. Iâve learned that I have self-esteem issues. Iâm working on that. I know they love me, though, and they donât actually give me any reason to think theyâre unhappy with how Iâve turned out.
My brother, Aaron, and I have been very different from each other from the get-go. Aaronâs more of a manly-man like my dad. Iâm very much not, but thatâs okay. So, to answer the question, since I havenât really changed who I am at my core since childhood, I suppose Iâve turned out exactly as they expected.
Question: What are you most afraid of?
Nash: Thatâs an easy one. Iâm afraid of being all alone in my life.
Question: Whatâs the most important thing in your life? What do you value most?
Nash: The most important thing in my life is my family, especially my new husband. I value kindness and caring as character traits.
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Grampy's POV - The Next Day
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the prompt word (avocado) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 14 prompt words (large â vegetable â rich â quantity â flash â bulb â second â position â tax â scratch â money â ranch â define â grow) from a random word generator.
Told from Grampy’s 1st-person POV:
âWhat are you two up to?â I startled a bit at Emmittâs words. I hadnât heard him enter the condo.
His practice wasnât holding office hours today, since it was the day after Thanksgiving, but heâd been on call and had rushed out to take care of an emergency this morning. I laughed, because it was wonderful to see my grandson smiling so widely. He and Nash grinned at each other like a couple of loons. Ha!
Emmitt kissed my cheek while Nash replied. âWeâre making a vegetable guacamole.â
Nashâs kiss lasted longer than the chaste one Iâd received. I chuckled again, thinking about the role Iâd played in bringing those two dunderheads together. Not that they werenât both plenty book-smart. You just wouldnât know it judging by how theyâd run their personal lives before Iâd stepped in to sort things out for them. I sure wouldnât have bet good money on their chances without my so-called interference.
When they came up for air, Emmitt glanced over my shoulder at the TV. The second half of the Washington, Washington State matchup was on. The Oregon game would be starting at four.
Nash held out his hand, and I plopped the final avocado into it. Emmitt nodded toward it and said, âThose are rich in fiber, Grampy.â
My grandson never missed an opportunity to push anything high in fiber on me. Just to be contrary I replied, âIâm kinda in the mood to dunk my chips in a ranch dip. Do you think we could make some of that, too, Nash?â
Emmitt snorted. He knew I was messing with him. Nash grimaced at first, but I knew the moment the figurative light bulb lit up over his head as he realized I was just having a little fun with them. The eye roll was a dead giveaway. It only took about three seconds, so it didnât tax his brain too much.
âIâll be back in a flash,â Emmitt said. He darted toward the stairway leading to the master bedroom.
Heâd said the same thing this morning. Maybe he needed to define âflashâ for us.
âSince Emmittâs home,â Nash said, âletâs get these tortillas fried up.â
We had a large quantity of corn tortillas already cut up into chip-sized wedges. Nash spread a little grapeseed oil on the preheated griddle then began to position the tortilla wedges, carefully spacing them out.
âIâll get out the sandwich fixinâs,â I said. I wasnât overly steady on my feet yet and still used a cane. Probably would for the rest of my life, for the added stability. But the refrigerator was just across from the island where we would set up our little buffet line, so I could handle transporting the bit of leftover turkey Gil and Julia had so kindly sent home with us, along with some lettuce, onion, sliced tomatoes, and mayo to the countertop.
In no time at all, the buffet line was ready to go, and a freshly showered Emmitt rejoined us, passing out another round of kisses. A collateral benefit of Emmitt wanting to smooch on Nash all the time was that I got bonus kisses to my upturned cheek. Not that Emmitt had ever neglected me in the pastâon the contrary, heâd always been very attentive and loving toward meâbut I wallowed in the extra attention I was reaping now. From Nash, too. I couldnât have asked for a better grandson-in-law if Iâd picked him out myself. Which, of course, I had done.
We settled in the living room so we could watch the football games while we ate. Emmitt sat next to Nash on the sofa. I kept my eyes on the TV to give them a little privacy (or at least the appearance thereof). Couldnât close my ears, though. I let my imagination have a little fun trying to figure out what was causing the scritchy-scratch noise coming from their direction.
Nash had announced this morning that he might try to grow a beard, so he had a face full of stubble. It wasnât too much of a stretch to picture Emmitt running his fingernails across it. The added unmistakable sound of lips smacking confirmed that to my satisfaction.
âAre you two going to make another attempt to go see The Little Mermaid?â I asked, partly to save them from getting too worked up over there, but mostly because it would be fun to see if I could make them squirm. Theyâd never given me a complete explanation for whatever had happened when their recent date night at the 5th Avenue Theater dissolved with a bit of drama.
I turned around at the sound of Nash falling into a coughing fit. Emmitt raised a feigned censorious eyebrow at me, but I knew he was enjoying Nashâs equally affected discomfort. When Nash caught his breath, he bit his lip and turned cow eyes toward Emmitt.
Emmitt grinned and snickered. âOf course we can still go see it.â
Yeah, Nash already had Emmitt wrapped around his little finger. After all, he was learning from a master, so I expected no less.
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Emmitt's POV - Fun in the Tub
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the prompt word (obfuscate) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 14 prompt words (cool â retain â rubbish â indication â sip â communication â heart â chart â fantasy â relinquish â ritual â spine â cell phone â nervous) from a random word generator.
Told from Emmitt’s 1st-person POV:
âHey, Emmitt,â Nash said, looking up from the bench in the dressing room. He bit his lip. Was he nervous? Troubled?
Iâd put a bottle of champagne into a bucket of ice to cool, strategically placed on the other side of the huge round tub in the bathroom. I didnât think Nash had seen me put it there, but why would he be uneasy even if he had? Maybe he wasnât in the mood and was concerned about hurting my feelings.
There was no doubt he generally loved it when I injected a little fantasy role-playing, or even just an extra heavy dose of romance into our love life. It wouldnât bother me if he didnât want to play tonight. It would trouble me if he humored me when he didnât feel up to it.
âWhatâs the matter?â I asked.
âNothingâs the matter,â he replied. âI was just thinking about stuff, and wonderingâŚâ
I approached and knelt next to him and picked up his hand. If I knew anything, it was that the cornerstone of a healthy relationship was about keeping open the lines of communication.
âTell me.â I brought his hand up to my lips and lightly kissed the palm.
Nashâs mouth quivered, and the dilation of his pupils was a good indication that Iâd distracted rather than encouraged him. I nodded reassuringly to prod him to get it off his chest.
âIâŚuhâŚwas thinking about when we first got together. What do you think weâd be doing right now if I hadnât lost my memory and assumed we must be a love match?â
âWe are a love match.â
âWell, yeahâŚnow. But when we first agreed to get married we both said we didnât believe in love.â
âPhysically, weâd probably be going through the same evening ritual we are now. Emotionally? Iâm sure Iâd be a mess.â
âYeah, me too.â
Because weâd have fallen in love despite our misguided attempts to obfuscate the reality of our natures by telling ourselves love wasnât real. Weâd each have hidden our feelings, assuming they would be unwelcomed by the other. My heart would have broken. Instead Iâd managed to retain it intact. It had thawed when Nash had looked up from the hospital bed, a weak but open and natural smile on his lips, and said, âI can see why I fell in love with you.â
âWeâd have gotten here eventually,â I said. âI was already halfway in love with you when I first asked you to marry me. I just wasnât able to acknowledge it to myself.â
âWe talked ourselves into believing a bunch of rubbish,â he said.
âThat we did.â I nodded. âBut we figured it out. I love you, Nash, more than I ever thought I was capable of loving another human being.â
âI love you, too.â The smile that spread across Nashâs face could have lit the room, and the hunger in his eyes told me Iâd been way off base thinking his issue might be that he wasnât in the mood. I quickly stripped and joined up with my husband in the tub.
âFirst things, first.â I popped open the champagne and poured two flutes.
âTo love.â Nash raised his glass. I tapped it lightly with my own and echoed his toast.
I took a single sip before putting it down and reaching for Nash. He swallowed a couple gulps and placed his glass next to mine, then melted into my embrace.
We were well-matched in that I enjoyed taking control for our sexual activities, and he liked to relinquish it. We shared a kiss, then I began to chart a course along his collarbone, licking and nipping before heading south to one of his nipples.
A delicious shiver ran down my spine at the sound of my husbandâs soft groan, then we both stiffened at the sound of Nashâs cell phone. I quickly recognized the Scooby-Doo theme song, which was the ringtone Nash had assigned to his best friend Harley.
âFuck âim,â Nash muttered. âIâll call him back later.â
I smiled and moved back to his mouth for another kiss. âDonât want to fuck him,â I teased. âWant to fuck you.â
Nashâs body vibrated beneath mine with his suppressed laughter. âGood.â
âOrâŚâ We hadnât switched things up, yet. Nash had once indicated that he was versatile, although heâd never pushed to top. Perhaps he was waiting for me to say something?
âOr what?â Was that a spark of hope in Nashâs eyes?
âOr you could fuck me.â
âYeah?â
âYeah.â
The Grinch himself would have been envious of the sly grin that spread across Nashâs face.
#sorrynotsorry for ending it here. đž

đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Nash's POV - Friends
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the prompt word (patriarchy) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 14 prompt words (level â clean â wait â crime â apparel â rock â testy â agreeable â unhealthy â hang â channel â back â rely â island) from a random word generator.
Told from Nash’s 3rd-person POV:
âOh, please. Donât even try to tell me patriarchy isnât alive and well.â Nashâs head snapped up as Angelaâs voice carried over to where he and Emmitt were arranging a tray of fruit and vegetables to offer their company. âDid you read that idiotic letter to the editor some fool politician in Utah wrote?â
âNo need to get testy with me.â Harley put his hands up in surrender. âI didnât say it wasnât still a concern, only that my company doesnât discriminate or pay women less. I run a clean business.â
âMisogyny should be a crime,â Angela grumbled. âAnd donât get me started on the sexism rampant in childrenâs apparel, either.â
âLock âem all up,â Harley prodded. âSend âem all to âThe Rock.â Lower level, in solitary.â
Angelaâs eyes narrowed. âI can always rely on you to stir in a little hyperbole.â
âI donât suppose,â Emmitt whispered, âthat it would be a good idea to inform her the Utah guy resigned two days later due to the backlash, would it?â
âGo ahead,â Nash snickered. âIâll hang back here and wait while you go over and point that out.â
Emmitt chuckled and picked up the tray. âNot on your life.â
Nash grabbed a bag of chips out of the pantry since Harley had requested âsomething unhealthyâ to go along with the nutritious stuff heâd known Emmitt would select.
âOr better yet,â Harley said, âship the offenders off to that little island where Nashâsââ
âHow about we change the channel,â Angelaâs husband, interjected, âto something more agreeable than the news?â
âGood plan.â Harleyâs fiancĂŠ, Oliver, picked up the remote and switched to a music channel. âGet us in the right frame of mind before we head out to Winterfest.â
Nash sat next to Emmitt on a sofa, and snuggled up under his husbandâs arm with a spontaneous smile on his lips.
Harley raised an eyebrow and smirked. âHoneymoonâs still not over?â
Emmittâs body shook with restrained laughter. Nash said, âNever. Is yours?â
âWeâre not even married yet!â
âBut you live together.â
âNot for that long. Not alone, anyway.â Harley waggled his eyebrows at Oliver, then pointed his finger at Nash. âItâs only been a few months since you moved out.â
Nash shuddered. âThat was a fateful day.â The injury heâd sustained during the drive to move the last of his belongings to Emmittâs condo had affected his life in so many bizarre ways.
âIâve said it before, and Iâll say it again,â Harley declared. âItâs the best thing that ever happened to you.â
Nash wouldnât have accepted that statement while enduring the pain and confusion of his recovery, but as Emmittâs arm tightened around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug, that familiar warmth spread through his chest, and he knew Harley was right.
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Nash's POV - Harley and Oliver's Wedding
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the 5 prompt words (red â wine â dinner â Italian â date) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post, and 10 prompt words (misuse â mistake â heavy â have â suffer â ring â bite-sized â false â accessible â seat) from a random word generator.
Told from Nash’s 1st-person POV:
Emmittâs hands lay in his lap as he fiddled with his wedding ring. Next to him at the head table, I stabbed at my âorganic field greens with red wine vinaigrette and shaved vegetables.â Harley had pulled out all the stops for this reception. Neither Oliver nor I had been able to talk Harley out of handling all the planning for his own wedding.
âIâve organized hundreds of weddings,â heâd said. âNobody is going to keep me from making my own perfect.â
Oliver had shrugged and given Harley free rein. Iâd conceded it was the right move. Harley was a perfectionist, and it would have been a mistake to make some other poor wedding planner suffer through his micro-managing of the affair. Besides, Harley wouldâve been more stressed handing control to someone else rather than doing the work himself. At least heâd delegated all the heavy lifting to a team of workersâhe usually pitched in to help.
The reception featured an Italian themed dinner buffet. In addition to the salad, Iâd selected a few bite-sized raviolis, and roasted chicken with caramelized garlic, sage, and lemon risotto. It was delicious, but I carefully put my fork on my plate and placed a hand over Emmittâs.
âWhat are you thinking about?â
Emmitt lifted his gaze and grinned. âI was thinking about the downward spiral my life seemed to be in this time last year.â He turned his hand over and gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. âand how quickly it all turned around after we got together.â
I laughed. âThat goes for all of us. I was miserable, and as much as they swore I could couch-surf at their place as long as I needed, I know Harley and Oliver were happy to finally get their apartment back to themselves.â
âIf anyone back then had told you the two of us would be happily married a yearâŚnoâŚmere months from that date, what would you have said to them?â
âBefore or after I laughed my ass off?â
Emmitt snorted. âI know, right?â
âI probably wouldâve told them to take a seat before they fell over, because obviously something was wrong with them.â
âI would have grumbled something about misuse of their time gossiping and spreading false rumors.â
âYeah, I can picture that.â
âPicture this.â I jumped and turned at the sound of Harleyâs voice directly behind me. The smile on the groom-slash-wedding plannerâs face matched the amusement in his voice. âVisualize yourself standing up and tapping your glass to get everyoneâs attention so you can give the first best manâs toast. It looks like everyoneâs seated now.â
âDude, you shouldâve at least hired someone to direct things on the day.â I grabbed my sparkling wine, stood, and kissed Harleyâs cheek. âGo join your husband and Iâll get right on it.â
Harley raised an amused brow because it wasnât as if we hadnât had this discussion several times already. But, he sat beside Oliver and kissed the manâs wrist before turning expectantly to me.
After searching the table fruitlessly for an accessible (and clean) utensil to tap against my glass, Emmitt came to the rescue, handing over his unused table knife. I cleared my throat and gently rapped the glass.
When the room quieted, and all eyes turned toward me, I nervously gulped before taking a steadying breath. âFor those of you who donât know me, my name is Nash, and Harley has been my best friend through thick and thin for many years.â
I turned toward Harley and raised my glass. âIn the early days of our friendship I could count on him to give me good advice. Or maybe it was dubious advice. You be the judge. In my clubbing days, I asked him how to achieve a âsmokeyâ look with eye makeup. He suggested I apply some shadow, then sleep on it.â
If the chuckles throughout the room were anything to go on, most agreed that had been âdubiousâ advice. âHonestly, it wasnât the worst suggestion he ever gave me. To this day when I try to steer him toward healthy food choices, he says the junk is better for our âmental health.â Iâll let Oliver take over on that mission, now.â
Harleyâs eyes widened slightly at Oliverâs bobbing head. âHarley has never let me down. Heâs always been there for me both in a flash and for the long run. When I thought my life was falling apart, he was by my side within the hour, comforting me, encouraging me. His simply being there meant the world to me. I barely knew Oliver at that time, but quickly learned he was fully deserving of my best friendâs love and attention when he stood with Harley offering me a place to stay when I needed them. They were together for me again, staying calmâwell, calm enough to do what was neededâwhen I was injured.â No further explanation was needed there. I doubted there were many present who hadnât seen the YouTube video of that horrifying glimpse into my life. The number of winces I spied confirmed that.
âI donât think thereâs any way I can repay them for all theyâve done for me. But I hope my words of wisdom that led to their engagement have at least partially cleaned that slate.â
It was a good thing Harley hadnât taken a premature drink from his raised toasting glass because judging by the choking antics he made, it might have ended up coming out his nose. Oliverâs shoulders shook as he patted Harleyâs back. Most in the room had no idea how completely wrong the term âwords of wisdomâ was. Iâd basically goaded them into it while trying to find a way to tell them Iâd just agreed to a loveless marriage of convenience.
âAll in all, Harley is a keeper. Heâs got it all, starting with a good sense of humor and ending with a strong sense of loyalty and devotion. And Iâve never met anyone more deserving to be the focus of that than Oliver. When Harley spoke his marriage vows, he meant them from the bottom of his heart, and moreover, heâs already proven heâs a man with the character to follow through on those promises.â
I raised my glass higher, inclining it toward the newly married couple. âOscar Wilde once said, âSome cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.â Thereâs no doubt in my mind that both Harley and Oliver fall in the first category. Hereâs wishing you both all the happiness youâve brought to me.â
We drank, and with a sigh of relief I dropped onto my chair. That had been my first, and hopefully last, time speaking in front of a large group of people.
As Oliverâs best man stood to make his speech, Emmitt placed a hand on my thigh and leaned toward me. âHave I told you lately how much I love you?â
Actually, he told me a couple times each day, but I never tired of hearing it. I grinned and kissed his cheek. âI love you, too.â
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Nash's POV - Happy Anniversary!
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the 4 prompt words (yearning â heart â banana â holus-bolus) left in the comments of the previous two weeks’ Flash Fiction Friday posts.
Told from Nash’s 3rd-person POV:
âHappy Anniversary!â Emmittâs smile was as wide as his tone was cheerful. He placed a huge bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island. Nash stood from the dining table where heâd been watching Percy and Grampy start a game of Sherlock Holmes Consulting Detective and stepped over to greet him.
Nash moved into Emmittâs open arms and kissed him. âI love you. Happy Anniversary!â
âLove you with all my heart,â Emmitt murmured.
Nash took a closer look at the arrangement in the vase. Orange, dark orange, and red roses combined beautifully with orange asiatic lilies, a couple other smaller stalks Nash couldnât name, and subtle seasonal touches like millet and dried oak leaves. âItâs lovely. Thank you.â
After a surreptitious glance over Nashâs shoulder, presumably to make sure Percy and Grampy were sufficiently diverted by the game, Emmitt pulled Nash closer for another kiss.
When they broke apart, Nash giggled and whispered, âIs that a banana in your pocket or are you happy to see me?â
They had a little time to spare before their dinner reservation. Maybe they could make an excuse to slip upstairs.
But Emmitt snorted a laugh. He reached into his pocket then pulled out a roll of quarters and placed it on the countertop. Oh. Quarters for the row of newspaper vending machines downstairs. It was part of Nash and Grampyâs routineâand good exercise for Grampyâto trek down there mid-morning to select some reading material each day.
At Nashâs ear, Emmitt breathed, âLater, sweetheart. Weâve all night.â
âBut Iâm burning, yearning, churning for you.â Nash thought heâd kept his voice to a low whisper, but apparently not soft enough.
âI donât think I can stomach so much schmaltz holus-bolus,â Grampy snickered, but the twinkle in his eye, and the upward twitch at the corner of his lips belied his words.
Percy grinned and muttered something about finding an ointment for that âburning.â
Chuckling, Emmitt walked to his grandfather. âNever fear, youâll always get your share.â He leaned down and planted an affectionate kiss to the upturned, weathered cheek.
Turning back to Nash, Emmitt added, âIâm going to change, then we can head out.â Those were his words, anyway. The slant to his eyebrows added, âWhy donât you follow me upstairs?â
The Capital Grille and Ragtime could wait. Nash winked at Percy, added a quick kiss to mingle with Emmittâs on Grampyâs cheek, and followed Emmitt. âNuts. I left the ticket printout on the dresser up there,â he added for good measure.
If the chortles behind him as he walked toward the stairs were any clue, he wasnât fooling anybody.
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Nash's POV - Jumping to Conclusions?
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the 3 prompt words (flow â motivation â missing) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post.
Told from Nash’s 3rd-person POV:
âHuh.â Nash halted in the middle of the walking track and stared at the text message on his phone: Can you cut it short and come back up please?
Grampy stopped beside him and leaned on his cane. Nash showed him Emmittâs message and asked, âWhat do you make of that?â
Chortling, Grampy replied, âI learned a long time ago to just take things at face value. Go with the flow and donât let my imagination get the better of me.â
âYou mean youâre not going to help me read between the lines?â Nash put his hands on his hips in mock consternation.
âNothingâs missing between any lines.â Grampy winked and started toward the exit. âCome on, whippersnapper, before you start jumping to conclusions like youâre prone to do.â
Nash didnât need any additional motivation to follow. Having his tendency pointed out to him kept him from voicing his concerns aloud, and he at least tried not to picture any worst-case scenarios. Never mind that it was only because his imagination couldnât come up with anything that made sense.
The elevator seemed slow enough it was easy to fancy a cluster of trolls pulling it up with a rope and pulley rather than the smooth mechanical system his rational self knew was behind it. Although Nash was pretty sure he wasnât projecting any yearning for Grampy to walk faster once they finally reached their floor, Grampyâs sly grin made him question that.
When they finally reentered their apartment, Emmitt was standing by the kitchen island with a huge wide grin.
âWhat?â Nash put a hand to his heart. At least it was clearly good news, but still…
âItâs been a while since we talked about it, so I wanted to speak to you before proceeding.â
âPlease, just say it!â
âAre you still okay with having older children placed with us, or would you rather hold out for an infant? We got a call. Three brothers need a home.â
Nash had to put a hand on the wall to steady himself. He was incapable of words, but he was pretty sure his beaming smile and frantically bobbing head did the job.
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Nash's POV - Memory Lane
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the 4 prompt words (macrobiotic â ice bag â wheal â gallipot) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post.
And here’s a bonus inspiration pic featuring the model from the To Love and To Cherish cover:

Told from Nash’s 3rd-person POV:
After a whirlwind shopping expedition to switch out the spare bedroomâs furniture with a space-saving bunk bed with a trundle, along with a short book case, a rack of bins for small toys, and a toy box, Nash and Emmitt were at least physically ready to welcome the six-year-old, and twin four-year-old boys into their home.
Of course they were both elated at the prospect of welcoming their new sons, but emotionally Nash was relieved to find Emmitt as much a wreck as he was. Meanwhile, Grampy was no-holds-barred thrilled out of his mind, practically bouncing with anticipation. His trip down memory lane wasnât exactly helping Nash and Emmittâs predicament.
âIf theyâre anything like Emmitt, weâll wish we had eyes in the back of our heads.â Grampy chortled as he shook his head at Emmitt. âEvery other time your mother turned around you were earning another trip to the ER.â
âThatâs so different from how he is today.â Nash poured a glass of orange juice and turned to face Emmitt. âYouâre so careful and precise in everything you do.â
Emmitt opened his mouth to reply, but Grampy beat him to it. âOh, he was very careful and precise while shoving all those beads up his nose.â
Nash sputtered and covered his mouth as juice spurted out his nose. Emmitt sighed and rubbed Nashâs back. âIn my defense, I was three.â
Nash coughed and wiped his face. âGrampy, darn it, I thought youâd spilled all the beans by now. Are you still holding out on me?â
âWhat did you think all those beads saved in that old ceramic thing on the shelf over yonder were from?â
âYou saved them?â Nash laughed. âWhat ceramic thing?â
âThe gallipot,â Emmitt said. âSecond shelf.â
âOh yeah.â Nash had unpacked Emmittâs knickknacks for him and had wondered about those beads at the time, but heâd long since forgotten about it. âBet all those trips to the ER are why you got interested in medicine.â
âProbably, although Grampy likes to joke it might have been the other way around.â
âI think those stitches you got on your arm were the turning point,â Grampy said. âYou were five, werenât you? Thatâs when you turned into a little ghoul, fascinated by anything bloody.â
âI still remember that.â Emmitt pointed out the faint scar on his forearm and looked at Nash. âYou know the little wheal thatâll pop up with a local anesthetic injection?â
Nash nodded.
âI was transfixed by that little bubble, then of course watching the doctor stitch up the gash was even more riveting. Grampyâs right. I was hooked after that.â
âLater, you kept removing the ice bag,â Grampy said. âAnd trying to pull off the bandage so you could ogle those stitches.â
âWell,â Nash said, âI think weâll be pretty darned lucky if our boys are anything like Emmitt.â
Emmitt grinned. âCareful what you wish for.â He glanced at his watch. âTheyâll be here any time. You got everything we needed at the grocery store this morning?â
Nash pointedly hiked up a brow. Emmitt had helped him put the stuff away.
The boysâ birth parents had had their family on a strict macrobiotic diet, and Nash and Emmitt had agreed theyâd transition the kids to the same healthy balanced diet they consumed themselves. There were some similaritiesâthey avoided sodas and refined/packaged foods, bought organic, and prepared their meals from fresh, fruits, vegetables, grains, etc., but they included meat, eggs, dairy, and spices in their diet, drank fruit juice, and didnât totally eliminate sugar. They certainly didnât avoid chocolate. But Nash had made a point of picking up more fish and beans to help with the diet shift.
âSorry,â Emmitt said. âIâm justâŚâ
âNervous?â Grampy asked.
âYour stories arenât helping any, you know.â
Grampyâs answering grin told them he knew exactly the effect his stories were having. But he relented. âYou two are going to make wonderful parents. Quit worrying.â
The buzzer sounded, alerting them that they had someone downstairs looking to make it past the security door. They froze and stared at each other for a moment before Emmitt stood and strode to the console.
They were about to find out if Grampy was right.
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Nash's POV - Alton, Bobby, and Clyde
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the 15 prompt words (unicorn â piano â earl â infernal â planet â sonnet â flag â game â thesaurus â striped â tower â north â coaster â camera â fan) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post.
And here’s a bonus inspiration pic featuring the model from the To Love and To Cherish cover:

Told from Nash’s 3rd-person POV:
Alton, Bobby, and Clyde. Kid A, kid B, and kid C. Although, since Bobby was short for Robert, it was possible that hadnât been a deliberate point on the part of their birth parents.
The twinsâ names were a bit of unintentional prophesy, perhaps, since Bonnie and Clyde would have been apt, had one of them been a girl. Nashâs chest heaved with a weary (but happyâŚdefinitely happy) sigh as the pair rolled a striped ball and a bead-filled polka-dotted cylinder toward a looming tower of wooden blocks.
He winced when the structure tumbled to the hard floor, making an âinfernal racketââthe adjective was the downstairsâ neighborâs word, not Nashâs. Theyâd had a few more choice (and exaggerated) words, probably pulled straight from a thesaurusâor maybe they had one of those word-of-the-day calendars and liked to put it to good useâbut the childless couple below wasnât home at this time on a weekday, so screw âem.
The boys whooped, celebrating their direct hit, and an alphabet block sporting a âuâ and a corresponding unicorn adorning an adjacent side rolled to a clattering stop at Nashâs feet where he stood next to the open refrigerator. He nudged the block, sliding it back toward the twins with a smile.
âThanks, Daddy!â Clyde snatched the block and ran back to the pile where Bobby was already rebuilding.
Meanwhile, Alton painstakingly pounded out scales on the pianoâor rather electronic keyboard, so they could control the volume despite the childâs forceful efforts. The commotion didnât seem to faze the six-year-old at all. No doubt he was used to it. Usually he was in the thick of it.
Grampy raised his phone, clearly accessing the built-in camera as he scanned it back and forth, taking in all the action.
âNot ready to raise the white flag yet, Grampy?â Nash knew the answer, but it would be fun to hear Grampyâs reply.
Emmittâs grandfather chortled and shook his head. âWhen to the sessions of sweet silent thoughtâŚâ
He said the words like he was quoting something. It did sound a bit like the beginning of one of Shakespeareâs sonnets Nash had been forced to study years ago. Heâd have to look it up later to understand the reference.
Nash placed a fresh glass of juice on a coaster near Grampyâs seat. The old man grinned, reveling in the pandemonium that was their new life. It was no surprise that Grampy enjoyed the chaos. Heck, he fanned the flames every chance he got. But there was a method to his madness, encouraging creativity, sparking their imaginations. And he knew how to rein it in when necessary. He loved to sit at the table playing a board game with the kids as they wound down during their after-dinner quiet hours. All in all, Grampy was an invaluable role model for a new parent whoâd been thrown in at the deep end.
Back at the kitchen island, Nash took a deep breath, then a sip of his Earl Grey tea, and tension eased from his shoulders as he the pleasant, citrusy, magical brew did its job.
He didnât even notice the âmusicâ had stopped until Alton asked, âWhatâs for dinner?â as he stood right by Nashâs elbow.
âDo you want to help?â Nash asked. Altonâs dark head bobbed. Heâd taken over from Grampy as a most-willing sous chef, while Grampy dealt with twin control. âGreat! Weâre making honey-garlic chicken, rice, sautĂŠed green beans, and glazed carrots.â
Alton dragged the step-stool over, and Nash set the little boy to snapping the beans while he cleaned and sliced carrots. Grampy queued up a string of classic Disney songs, and they bopped and sang âThe Bare Necessitiesâ as they worked.
Nash jumped and put a sticky hand to his chest when Emmitt murmured, âPlanet earth to Nash,â right in his ear.
âPops is home!â Alton yelled.
âAw,â Bobby whined. âIs it quiet time already?â
âNot yet,â Emmitt said. âIâm home early.â
The twins cheered and resumed building a trio of block towers. A Tonka truck stood ready for the demolition phase of the project.
Nash lifted his chin for a kiss, and an eyebrow inquiringly. Surgery days ran late more often than early.
Emmitt delivered the perfunctory kiss. âHad a cancellation.â Which was all the explanation Nash would get, thanks to HIPAA. âBut Iâve been free for hours.â
âOh?â Nash gathered ingredients to make the sauces while Emmitt popped a couple raw carrot slices into his mouth.
âI knew early this morning that Iâd have half the afternoon free, so I scrolled through Zillow.â
âAh.â Theyâd discussed the possibilityâlikelihood, reallyâof selling the condo and buying a single-family home. While theyâd originally thought continuing to live in the condo was doable, three children sharing one bedroom was a stretch anyway, and the boys wereâŚwellâŚon the rambunctious end of the disposition spectrum, so it wasnât really the best environment for themâor the neighbors. âDid you take a preliminary look at some, then?â
âYes.â Emmitt blew out a breath and leaned against the counter. âThank you for understanding.â
That Emmitt had looked without him? Nash shrugged. âNo biggie.â Considering they would either have to take everyone with them or arrange for Percy and Opal to come sit with Grampy and the kids, it made sense for one of them to narrow it down before a joint tour for the final decision. âFind any with potential?â
âOne,â Emmitt said. âAnd âpotentialâ is certainly the key word, because itâs pretty rough.â
âSure we want to deal with that?â
âItâs a five-bedroom Victorian with over thirty-six hundred square feet in the Capitol Hill neighborhood.â
âSeriously?â Nash put the bowl heâd been stirring aside to focus on Emmittâs words. Heâd reconciled himself to the idea that theyâd have to live in the suburbs. âCapitol Hill?â That was just a bit north of where they were now. Emmitt would still be nearby his office and the hospital, and they would still be close to all the entertainment venues and amenities that had drawn them each to downtown Seattle in the first place. They wouldnât be giving up anything of value.
âThought youâd like that.â Emmittâs grin spread. âIt would need repairs and renovation first, though. Itâs been converted into a multi-family residence, so weâll have to hire a contractor to reverse that.â Emmitt shuddered. âNot to mention the landscaping.â
Nash bounced on the balls of his feet. With five bedrooms they could have a guest room again if the twins shared a bedroom. But, he grimaced. âDo I want to know what something that big costs.â
âProbably not.â Emmitt laughed. âIt seems outrageous given the condition, but weâd be paying for the location and the space. And reallyâŚâ He bopped his head side to side. âAfter rolling in the estimated renovation expenses, itâs on par with this condo.â
âIt sounds fantastic. I want to see it.â
âI hope you donât mind,â Emmitt said. âBut Iâve arranged another viewing for us this evening. Iâve already called Percy. He and Opal will be here at six-thirty, and weâll meet the agent there at seven.â
Mind? Nash threw his arms around Emmittâs neck. Heck, no, he didnât mind. The house sounded like it would be the best of both worldsâa big home with a yard for the kids, and gardening opportunities for Grampy, all without giving up everything they loved about living in the city. âI kind of want to crack open a bottle of bubbly.â But that would probably jinx them.
đ˝ đź Bonus Scene - Emmitt's POV - All Choked Up
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the 10 prompt words (cucumber â olive oil â lube â aubergine â peaches â beads â whip â cage â g-string â Prince Albert) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post.
And here’s a bonus inspiration pic:

Told from Emmitt’s 3rd-person POV:
âBobby snapped my g-string.â Six-year-old Alton held up his guitar as Nash choked on the bite of peaches ânâ cream yogurt heâd had in his mouth. Grampy chortled as he glanced up from the book he was reading to Bobby and Clyde. Emmitt grinned and rubbed Nashâs back.
“Did not!” Bobby protested, quite rightfullyâthis time.
Oliverâs shoulders shook, but he covered his mouth to keep from guffawing aloud. Harley smirked and shook his head.
Alton put his fists on his hips and harrumphed. âI donât know why everyone thinks itâs so funny that my guitar broke.â
Oliver held out a hand. âBring it here, kiddo, Iâll fix it for you.â
Harley joined Emmitt and Nash at the kitchen island and snorted as he took in the array of fresh vegetables on the countertop. âConsidering the questionable underwear you deem to be proper attire for pre-schoolers, I have to wonder if this for dinner, or if you have some wild plans for us after the kiddies go to bed.â
âWildâŚâ Emmitt looked at the ingredients for the fried augergine, tomato, and cucumber salad then rolled his eyesâa habit heâd picked up from Nash. âIs that a problem?” He deadpanned. “Nash was nice enough to set out the olive oil for lube.â
Nash spewed the remains of his yogurt all over the countertop, and Harleyâs brows about disappeared in his hairline. One would have thought heâd suggested whips, cock cages, and anal beads, although the latter would certainly be more sanitary that what Harley had implied.
Emmitt leaned toward Harley and whispered, âIf you can handle that entire cucumber, Iâll give you a Prince Albert piercing, free of charge.â He winked. âOliver will love it.â
Nash dropped to the floor, apparently giving up on trying to control his mirth.
One of Harleyâs brows came back down. âAnd to think I once thought you were a stuffed shirt.â His mouth quirked into an amused grin. âI couldnât have been more wrong.â
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Myles) - Chapter 1 Scene 1
Click to go to original blog post
Dr. Myles Burlingham kept his eyes focused on what he was doing and avoided locking his gaze with anyone else drifting through the cafeteria. He knew the hospital grapevine had its spotlight shining on him lately. Not that he could blame them, but still, he hated the notoriety. Hated the sharply ended conversations and the phony smiles.
It was worse than dealing with his divorceâthe topic of the gossip. In fact, he was quite relieved the marriage was over, even if he was ticked off at how Crystal had gone about it.
He stared at the text message from his divorce attorney. The judge had signed the order this morning. It was done.
There would be no hiding Crystalâs pregnancy. His personal business would jump back to center stage as soon as that became known. And it would. She still socialized with some of the other physicians and/or their spouses. Same with the news that sheâd be remarrying later this week, within days of the divorce becoming final. At least that meant he wouldnât have to pay any alimony, so maybe it was worth the temporary infamy.
He grabbed a sandwich from a vending machine then glanced at his watch. The patient heâd just operated on would be heading up to the surgical floor shortly. He sighed and pushed through the double doors to exit the cafeteria.
He shoved the wrapped sandwich into the pocket of his white coat as he approached the bank of elevators.
The way his luck was going today, it shouldnât have been a surprise that Nash Marino was standing in front of the elevators. Myles nodded in greeting, and his jaw tightened reflexively, which was ridiculous. He needed to get past this pathetic infatuation he had with the nurse. It was unprofessional.
He was constantly torn between wanting to be near the man, and needing to keep his distance before he exposed himself. He had no intention of hiding his sexuality. Heâd figured it out early in his marriage, although heâd tried to make it work anyway.
Obviously, that had been a miserable failure, but his best friends Gil and Julia had accepted his announcement without even blinking. Like Grampy, theyâd probably already had him figured out. His brothers were less than thrilledâmostly confused since heâd married a womanâbut they werenât going to make it an issue.
So, yeah, he wasnât going to retreat into a closet, but neither was he planning to date anyone he had to work with, no matter how attracted he was to the man. No matter how much he admired the manâs integrity. No matter what. It was unethical and could create a conflict of interest.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped on. He could probably make time to visit with Grampy while he was on the surgical floor, anyway, getting his new patient set up. Stop in and say âhi,â and let Grampy know about the appointment he had this evening with that home health agency.
Myles startled when he realized Nash was looking at him expectantly. Nash had already pushed the button for the twelfth floor, where they were both heading, but of course, Nash wouldnât know his destination. Myles nodded and stepped back.
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Myles) - Chapter 1 Scene 2
Click to go to original blog post
âSo the patient with the open tibia fracture Iâm expecting is yours, then?â Nash asked.
âHeâs been assigned to you?â Myles replied.
âYes.â
Great. Just great. Myles really didnât need the added challenge of keeping his inappropriate crush on Nash buried today of all days.
Myles regarded Nash for a moment then blinked. âGreat.â
Unfortunately, his tone more closely mirrored his frustrated thoughts than the sentiment that should have accompanied those words.
Nashâs posture immediately stiffened. âI assure you Iâm a very competent nurse. Your patient is in good hands.â Nashâs clipped tones shared what was obviously his true feelings better than the civil words had done.
Myles took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. Of course Nash was a competent nurse. Nash was one of the better educated nurses as well as being authentically compassionate, gentle, and attentive. Thatâs why heâd specifically requested Nash to be the day nurse in charge of his grandfatherâs care, so why the man would think he felt differently was a mystery.
âIâm not suggesting otherwise.â Again, his tone was more terse than intended.
Nashâs face reddened, and he pursed his lips as if biting back further words. Probably for the best since Myles was having obvious problems conveying his meaning.
The elevator doors opened at the lobby. A number of other people joined them, mostly visitors, but another nurse stepped on, her eyebrows raising slightly, apparently sensing the tension in the elevator.
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Myles) - Chapter 1 Scene 3
Click to go to original blog post
On the twelfth floor, the charge nurse greeted them as they approached the nursesâ station. âNash, Dr. Burlingham, good. Your new patient is on his way up now. Weâve got 1218 set up already.â
âThank you.â Myles gestured with his head for Nash to follow. He straightened his back and walked swiftly to the designated room.
The last thing he wanted to do was alienate Nash. Much as he knew it would be ethically imprudent to pursue the man considering their working relationship, he still esteemed Nash as a nurse and didnât want one dayâs tactless mood to affect Nashâs opinion of him.
He ushered Nash inside, then closed the door behind them. Nash tensed, but waited silently as Myles gathered his thoughts. Or tried to, anyway.
âI want to apologize,â Myles said.
One of his grandfatherâs favorite quotes came to mind. Benjamin Franklin had once said âNever ruin an apology with an excuse.â It was good advice, and Grampy had recited it often over the years.
Nashâs jaw dropped briefly at Mylesâ words. Apparently he hadnât been expecting that.
Myles continued. âI left you with the impression that I was displeased with your past performance. I want to reiterate that that is not the case and, in fact, couldnât be further from the truth. Indeed, if I was given a choice of nurses for my more critically injured patients, I would choose you every time. I shouldnât have taken my bad mood out on you.â
There. No excuses. Or was there? Damn it. Maybe he shouldnât have mentioned his bad mood, although that was probably obvious anyway. No doubt the apology was too formal, as was his tendency, but hopefully the sincerity was clear.
Nash blinked a few times then nodded, and his posture relaxed from the stiff pose heâd taken upon entering the room.
âApology accepted. ThâŚthank you.â
If Nash was going to elaborate, he didnât have the chance because the door opened, and a post-op nurse wheeled a patient-occupied bed into the room. Nash got busy checking the side rails and situating his new patient, then looked expectantly at Myles.
Myles reverted to professional-mode and reviewed, in great detail, his instructions for the patientâs care.
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Myles) - Chapter 1 Scene 4
Click to go to original blog post
It was later than Myles would have liked when he finally had the chance to walk into his grandfatherâs hospital room for a visit before heading home.
âEmmitt!â Grampyâs voice was cheerful, as always. Nothing ever seemed to bring the man down.
Mylesâor Emmitt, as Grampy always referred to himâleaned down to kiss the upturned weathered cheek. âHow was your day, Grampy? I understand Dr. Beltran wants to get you up and walking the halls tomorrow.â
âYeah, he told me. He had that new nurse I got get me up to start walking to the bathroom today, too.â
âGood, itâll get you ready for physical therapy. Remember, youâll be moving to a PT facility in a few more days. Theyâll get you back into shape to come home again.â
Grampy nodded. âI know, I know.â Then he cocked his head to the side, grinned, and added, âMy new nurse, heâs one of those funny boys, like you.â
Emmitt heaved a sigh. âGrampy, please donât meddle.â
If Emmitt didnât know his grandfather better, he might have found the manâs widened eyes and pearl clutching maneuver convincing. âMe? I donât meddle!â
But the threat was real. Emmitt knew it, and he was sure Grampy knew that he knew it. âSeriously, Grampy. I work with Nash. It would be wrong of me to approach him.â
Grampyâs eyes lit up. âSo you like him, then?â
âGrampy!â
âOh, quit your worryinâ, Iâll leave him be.â
âThank you.â But Emmitt still wasnât quite sure he could trust Grampyâs chagrined mien.
âEven though he is kinda good-lookinâ on top of being good company.â
âGrampy!â
âI didnât say Iâd leave you be!â
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Myles) - Chapter 3 Random Scene Part 1
Click to go to original blog post
Grampyâs cackling laughter greeted Emmitt as he approached his grandfatherâs hospital room. The first thing Emmitt noticed when he stepped into the room was Nash Marino looking up from where he squatted next to Grampyâs chair.
The two of them seemed to get along well but even so, unless Emmitt felt confident he could maintain his professionalism, he shouldnât even consider the proposition that had invaded his mind ever since overhearing Nashâs conversation with Angela in the cafeteria yesterday.
Emmitt smiled and turned his focus to Grampy. âIâm glad to see youâve cheered up.â
Grampy laughed even louder, pointed at Nash, and gasped, âHe wants to have you talk to my grandson!â
Nashâs face turned red, and Emmittâs brows drew together in confusion. He gazed at Nash. âWhich one, and what about?â
âEmmitt,â Nash replied. âThe one Bernie says he lives with.â
Emmitt raised an eyebrow. Nash hadnât picked up on the fact that Bernie was his grandfather? He sat on the corner of the bed and turned his attention to his gleeful relative. âGrampy, you really need to quit calling me that.â
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Myles) - Chapter 3 Random Scene Part 2
Click to go to original blog post
âWait. What?â Nash stood, blurting out the words, his usual veneer of professionalism apparently forgotten. âYouâre Emmitt? I thought your first name was Myles?â
Emmitt nodded. Nashâs informality sent a pleasant shiver zipping over his skin, raising the hair on his arms, but he schooled his features to remain neutral. âMyles Italus Burlingham. First initial is âM,â middle name starts with âIt.â Em-It. Emmitt.â
âItalus?â An adorable blush crept up from Nashâs neck as if he instantly regretted his impulsive reply.
âIt means âof Italyâ in Latin.â
Grampy added, with a sly grin, âHe was conceived there on his parentsâ ten-year wedding anniversary trip.â
Emmitt winced at Grampyâs overshare, and Nash nodded distractedly. What was Grampy thinking to say something like that? Obviously he was still in matchmaker mode, maybe trying to get Nash to see him in a more personal light. Grampyâs motives were pure, but he clearly didnât understand how unprofessional it would be for Emmitt to ask Nash out on a date.
Still, Grampy and Nash got along well. Very well. And that was as important to Emmitt as he searched for an aide to care of his grandfather as the candidateâs professional skills. Nashâs education and expertise far exceeded what would be needed, but Emmitt was willing to pay the right person what they were worth even if it surpassed what was required.
Grampy said, âSo youâll speak to him then, Nash?â
âSpeak to whom?â Emmitt squinted at his grandfather. He knew the answer, but had to ask.
âTo you, of course!â Grampy replied.
Emmitt bit back a groan but couldnât repress the sigh. If Nash had missed it earlier, surely heâd realize now what Grampy was up to. He nodded and made a snap decision. âI wanted to have a talk with you anyway, Nash.â
Grampyâs happiness and well-being were too important. Emmitt had managed to conceal his feelings toward Nash for years, and he could continue to do soâassuming he could convince Nash to accept the position, of course. After listening to Nash pour out his heart to Angela in the cafeteria yesterday, that likelihood wasnât as completely out of the realm of possibilities as heâd once thought.
Nashâs eyebrows shot up. âSure. Uh, thisâll be a rather personal conversation, so where do you think we should do this, and whenâs convenient for you?â
Personal? What nonsense had Grampy been feeding him?
âYouâre finishing up your three twelves, arenât you? So youâll be off on Saturday?â
Nash nodded.
âItâs Dr. Beltranâs weekend for on-call and rounds, so Iâll be free, too. Would you be willing to meet me at the coffee shop thatâs in the lobby at my condo? Itâs about ten or fifteen minutes from the hospital and has seating thatâs well suited for confidential discussions.â
Emmitt ignored the widening grin on Grampyâs face. It was probably too much to hope that Nash didnât notice it, too.
âOkay,â Nash replied. âI can do that.â
Emmitt pulled a business card out of his pocket and scribbled his cell phone number on the back before handing it to Nash. âIâve got more patients to check on. Call me, and weâll work out the details.â
He leaned down to kiss Grampyâs cheek. âIâll check on you again later, once youâre settled in your new place.â Then he swept out of the room before Grampy could find some fresh comment to embarrass him in front of Nash.
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Myles) - Chapter 9 Random Scene
Click to go to original blog post
The regular chirping of the heart rate monitor soothed Emmittâs nerves. Many people might not find it comforting, hating hospitals in general, but to Emmitt it meant Nash was doing well.
Emmittâs mood had swung sharply from cheery, at the turn his life had recently taken, to alarmed when heâd received Harleyâs panicked call using Nashâs phone. As much as he recognized Nash would be facing a difficult next couple of months, at least he now knew his fiancĂŠ could expect a full recovery.
Nash stirred on the bed as Clancy stood on the other side of it, checking the IV. Clancy looked down at Nash and smiled one of those jaunty smiles the nurses gave patients to boost their moods. âHow are you feeling?â
Emmitt put his hands on the armrests ready to rise, but stilled again when Nash spoke.
âMy fiancĂŠ,â he croaked. âWas he hurt? Is he okay?â
While it was heartwarming that Nash was concerned about himâall things consideredâit was mildly concerning that he didnât remember the accident enough to know Emmitt hadnât been involved in it. Not entirely unusual, though.
Clancy glanced at Emmitt. âOh, no. Donât worry, Nash, you were the only one hurt. Dr. Burlingham wasnât even in the car, and Harley and Oliver are both fine.â He paused. âWhat do you remember?â
Nash paused a moment and stared blankly at Clancy before replying. âNo,â he rasped. âI donât remember the accident.â
Emmitt stood and stepped to the other side of the bed. âYou have a mild concussion in addition to your arm injury. Donât worry. Itâs not unusual for people to not be able to remember the accident.â
âOkay,â Nash slurred. He appeared to still be a bit dazed from the anesthetic.
Nashâs left arm was in a cast, so Emmitt picked up Nashâs right hand and held it between his palms. âIâll go speak to Dr. Beltran. He performed your surgery, so heâll come in and assess you. I canâtâŚobviouslyâŚbut between the concussion and the infection risk from the compound fracture, youâll probably be spending a night here in the hospital.â
Poor Nash appeared so pale, muddled, and in obvious pain, Emmitt wanted desperately to be able to ease all of it instantly. If only such a thing were possible. He raised Nashâs hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then patted it gently and carefully laid it back on the bed.
Nash stared blankly, then gave a weak smile. Emmitt turned and left the room to find his partner, Dr. Jordan Beltran.
When they returned, Nash seemed more wakeful, but also seemed further distressed. Emmitt took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Jordan glanced at the Patient Controlled Anesthesia pump and asked, âHowâs your pain level, Nash, on the comparative pain scale from one to ten?â
Nash opened his mouth, then paused, as if thinking before he replied, âEight. At least. Itâs pretty bad.â
Jordan nodded. âUse your PCA as needed. Iâll repeat all this tomorrow, after your anesthesia has completely worn off, but to ease your mind for now Iâll tell you that your prognosis is good. For an open fracture, this one was minor. The debridement and irrigation went smoothly, and internal fixation was successful. Youâre all closed up.
âAntibiotics were started promptly in the ER, and weâll continue an antibiotic regimen until youâre released, possibly tomorrow. You did require a transfusion in the ERâŚthree units. This cast will come off in about three weeks so we can remove the stitches, then youâll get a fresh cast for the remainder.â
He pulled out his mini light to check Nashâs eye dilation, then used an ophthalmoscope to look inside the fundi. He proceeded to check eye movement for a more thorough concussion check than heâd been able to accomplish when Nash was unconscious.
âIâd still call this concussion on the mild end of the scale. Myles said you donât remember the accident, is that right?â
âRight,â Nash replied. âAnd Clancy said no one else was hurt?â
âCorrect. It wasnât a car accident, although you were in the backseat of a Jeep when it happened. Apparently you had your arms in the air enjoying the feel of the rushing air, and a large bird swooped down and slammed into your arm.â
âHuh. Well, leave it to me to find such a crazy was to end up in the ER.â Nash reached up to touch the bandage on his forehead.
âYouâve got some bruising and a few sutures there. Nothing major. Tell me about the last thing you do remember,â Jordan asked. âDo you remember what you did this morning?â
âUh, had breakfast and went for a ride with Harley and Oliver.â
Emmitt narrowed his eyes. Did Nash not remember that theyâd been transferring the last of his belongings to Emmittâs apartment? âWhere were you going?â
âIâŚuhâŚdonât remember that part.â
Emmitt stilled, and Nashâs panicked mein began to make sense. âWhat did you do yesterday?â
âItâsâŚa little fuzzy. Iâm sure itâll come back to me soon. Thatâs not a big deal, is it?â
It was a huge deal. Colossal. Emmittâs heart sank. If Nash didnât remember yesterday, there was a good chance he was missing a couple months, at least. âI think it might be.â
âWhatâs the last thing you do remember?â Jordan asked.
âComing home from work. Hanging out before dinner.â
Emmitt willed himself not to fidget, and tried not to project the apprehension that flowed through him at Nashâs evasive words. âOne more question.â He took a deep breath, fearing the reply, but he had to know. âWhen you woke up here a few minutes ago, you asked Clancy if your fiancĂŠ was okay. To whom were you referring?â
đ˝ đź POV Switch (Percy) - Chapter 17 Scene 1
Click to go to original blog post
Uses the 3 prompt words (juice â Friday â socks) left in the comments of the previous week’s Flash Fiction Friday post.
It might have been a Friday, but it was the first day of a new gig that would last several weeks, and Percy was damned happy to have it. Nash, his patientâwell, one of his patientsâlay resting in a recliner. Although, ârestingâ probably wasnât the best word to describe Nashâs fitful shifting. He was a sweaty mess in track pants, a wrinkled T-shirt, and fuzzy slipper-socks.
Percy stood when Nashâs eyes opened. Nashâs hand shook as he reached for the juiceâor whatever the hell that beverage should be calledâand two Tylenol tablets on the table beside him.
Nash paused his movement, brought the chair forward to a sitting position, took a deep breath as perspiration dripped down his face, and reached again.
âHere, let me.â Percy picked up the pills and held them out.
Nash presented his palm as he peered at Percy. Although Nash kept his face fairly neutral, the tightness of his jaw indicated he was likely to be a reluctant, if not hostile patient. Oh, well. He wouldnât be Percyâs first. He pasted on a smile and handed Nash the beverage Myles had mixed upâwater with lemon, orange, cucumber, and electrolyte dropsâas Nash tossed back the pills.
âHi, my name is Percy. Iâm a home health aide. Iâll be staying here to help you and your boyfriendâs grandfather for the next few weeks.â
Nash narrowed his eyes. âFiancĂŠ.â
âSure.â Percy turned and grinned at Myles, Nashâs fiancĂŠ, otherwise known as the man whoâd hired and would be paying him. As far as Percy was concerned, that made it just as important to keep him happy as it did his patients.
Myles ran a hand through Nashâs hair, brushing it back from his forehead, and patted his sweaty face with a damp cloth. âIâm going to leave soon to pick up Grampy. You doing okay? You got a little rest, anyway.â
âYeah, I guess,â Nash replied. âDamn, Iâm a drug weenie. It shouldnât be this bad.â
âEverybodyâs different. It doesnât take much for some people to build a mild dependence.â Myles used the same serene tone Percy had learned to employ when dealing with unreasonable patients.
Nash squeezed his eyes closed, but the peace didnât last too long. He reopened them. âIâm not addicted.â He bit out the words.
âI know youâre not,â Myles calmly replied. âThereâs a difference between âdependenceâ and âdependency.ââ
Percy nodded, not that anyone was looking at him. Nash was too busy stewing, and Myles was focused on Nash.
Myles made a good point, though. Apparently, Nash had developed a physical dependence on the Oxycodone heâd needed after a gruesome accident. But the fact heâd quit taking the drug and wasnât trying to get more meant he hadnât developed a dependency. He certainly deserved credit for his strength of character. Too many succumbed to the temptation. Although, to be fair, they usually had a more chronic pain.
Nash flashed an irritated grimace at Percy then muttered, âExcuse me.â He pushed himself to a stand and walked stiffly up the stairs leading to the master bedroom suite.
âWant me to follow?â Percy whispered to Myles. The way Nash had pressed a hand to his abdomen indicated he was probably headed to the bathroom. One of those withdrawal symptoms rearing its head, and Nash probably wouldnât appreciate his presence, so unless he was likely to fallâŚ
Myles shook his head. âI think heâs steady enough. His symptoms should ease within a couple days. Sorry about that irritability, thatâs the withdrawal. Heâs not like that.â
Percy huffed out a sigh. Heâd read up on the withdrawal symptoms, so he already understood that, but it was a relief to be working for a physician who also realized the patient didnât have a personal issue with him.
âNo problem. Iâm pretty good with people. Heâll be eating out of my hand in no time.â
Share this:
- Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
- Print (Opens in new window) Print
- Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
- Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- More







