Loving Kinnick

There Is A Disturbance At The Police Department

I pushed the cart with purpose. Kinnick sat in the truck, waiting for me. He is very impatient and won't stop calling me because I won't hurry. It has been five minutes. I could have sworn he was dying with the countless phone calls.

He wasn't supposed to come. I could see the pain from a mile away. He could barely get into the truck when we left. I had to help him in which he hated. I laughed as he smacked my hand away. I guess it still tickled even when his ribs were broken.

My cart was full of ingredients for blueberry muffins because I planned on redeeming myself. I know how to read ingredients perfectly fine. The night he stayed over was different. I was tired from the lack of sleep. Well, that was the excuse I was going with anyway.

I also found a few different types of cookies and chocolate chunk brownies, even though I can barely eat chocolate without drowning myself in milk. So, I grabbed a gallon on my way down the refrigerator isles.

Then I forgot, Thanksgiving was this week, and this would be the first time I spent the holiday without my family. But Kinnick was my family now. I found a reasonably sized turkey. There were other things I added to my long list of Thanksgiving dinner ideas. I was going to make him the best dinner. Even though I had no idea how to make a turkey.

My phone started ringing. "Listen, I can't shop if you keep calling me every two seconds."

"Can you get me a pack of Sour Patch Kids?" He pleaded. "The big bag."

"Yes, sweetheart," I promised. "Anything for you.'

"Can you hurry? I can feel the medication wearing off."

"How? You took it before we left."

"Did I?"

"I'm heading to the check out line," I snatched the bag of candy off of the shelf. "Give me ten minutes tops."

After shoving money into the self check out machine, I hurried out of the store. Kinnick found it quite funny when I decided to ride the shopping car out of the store - almost hitting someone on my way. She flipped me off and continued walking.

He didn't like when I pushed the shopping cart in between his door and the car next to him. He couldn't find a way out to help me put the groceries away. The car on my side was parked too close for his body to fit through - that is what happens when you carry a dumptruck on your backside.

"That was dirty," he said as I climbed into the truck.

"Is there any way you could stop by my house? I need more clothes."

He tensed in his seat. "Of course. Is your dad home?"

"We haven't talked since the gym, so I don't know."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Did you not take your medicine?"

"I'm okay."

The exhaustion on his face was clear. He couldn't get comfortable at night. There were several times he woke up not being able to breathe. He panicked at the pain filling his lungs as he sucked in deep breaths. I rubbed his back, talking him through the anxiety. I stayed up with him for hours, rubbing circles into his shoulders. He fell asleep in my lap. I fell asleep sitting up with my fingers running through his hair.

"How about a nap when we get home?"

He looked at me with a smile curling on his lips. "Home?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

He rested his hand on my thigh. "A nap sounds great."

"I got you these until then," I pulled the candy from the grocery bag.