Emergency Medical Dad

XXXVII: early july, present

JORGEN

Jessie's hair smells the same as it did when I was younger, her waist feels similar against my arm, her body, breaths, warmth, are all the same.

It takes my brain a few minutes to start turning at the right pace, but in the moments where I'm half awake, nose buried in her hair, all I can feel is raw peace, something that's escaped me for years.

So while I normally get out of bed the moment I'm awake, I have to fight myself to stop savoring what I woke up to. Savoring her body pressed to mine, savoring even the slight sweat on my skin from the heat of her.

I need to shift to stand up, that shift needs to include my hand pressing into the mattress, said hand that is tucked around her stomach. Which means I have two options, risk waking her up and give myself the ability to stand, or wake her up nicely so I can stand.

I don't get to pick.

Instead, she rolls over in her sleep, hands in front of her chest, legs brushing mine, forehead to my collar. I stop breathing, debating the situation in my head, debating what to do and how to do it and when. The second I consider breathing, her nose nuzzles into the front of my shirt and I stop all over again.

I stare at her, her head resting on the swell of my bicep, hand sleepily knotted in the front of my black shirt.

"Jessie," it comes out as a half whisper, more to see if my voice would work than anything. She doesn't budge.

I take my fingers and brush them along her cheek up into her hair, causing a small flutter in her eyelashes. The second I stop moving, she's back asleep again, so I try again, brushing my thumb down her nose, out her cheekbone, and down the sway of her neck.

This time, her eyelashes keep fluttering, blinking open, bleary brown eyes looking for something to fix on in order to wake up.

"Good morning," I try to keep my voice as soft as it can get. Her eyes flick up and focus on me, blinking awake having a hard time registering me for just a moment before she pulls completely backward, leaning away from me.

"Jorgen," it comes out raspy. "Did I- I'm sorry- that was not-"

I let out a shh and she snaps her mouth closed, "you were asleep."

"It's still not-"

"Don't freak out, it's alright, I didn't mind. I wasn't awake either," I push her hair back away from her face. "I do need my arm, though."

She yanks her head off my arm, red in the face and getting redder.

"You can go back to sleep if you want," I roll over and sit up. "It's early, they probably won't be up for another few hours."

"No, no, I'm-" she rubs her hands down her face. "I'm up."

The morning is slow. I make coffee for myself and tea for her and we sit on the back deck talking quietly until Kaz stumbles down the stairs at 10am and proceeds to eat most of the eggs that we brought in one big scrambled pile. The three of us wander around checking out the house and the surroundings until Pitty and Ian wobble down the stairs, hand in hand, an hour or so later. The slowpokes, Duke and Luka, push our day's start time well after noon and allow Jessie and I to drive back to town to get sandwiches for lunch considering our lunch materials got mostly eaten by the first three boys down the stairs.

"To be honest," Jessie whispers from next to me in line at the deli. "I don't really like swimming."

"Hm? Why?"

She shrugs, not looking at me, instead absently watching them make sandwiches, "I don't like the way I feel in a bathing suit."

"Oh," I frown.