Lindsey isn't allowed to lift anything, so Karen and I bring all of his stuff in and get him settled on the couch. He looks exhausted and thin, but leaving the hospital has obviously helped him relax a bit.
After helping me unpack everything, Karen takes off for the night, and Lindsey and I are truly alone for the first time since before his surgery. He gives me a weak smile and pats the couch beside him. How is this the same guy I felt was so unreachable a few weeks ago? This is my Lindsey. This is the Lindsey that is kind and calming and devoted.
I don't even know what else to say. I smile reassuringly and cuddle up to him on the couch, trying to relax. 50 years later, I'm back to taking care of Lindsey. It's comforting in a way. It's also a bit terrifying to be back here, with Kristen and the kids looming over this sweet, quiet moment.
"I'm so glad you're here, Stevie."
"I'm glad you're okay," I say, snuggling a little closer. "You scared the shit out of me."
"I told you I'd be fine."
I roll my eyes, and take a deep breath, trying to let go of the fear and exhaustion. My mind raced with the realization that I was Lindsey's caretaker. That he's depending on me to be with him at his most vulnerable.
A couple weeks ago we were getting high in London.
"Stop thinking," he says, planting a kiss on my forehead. "We're not going to figure anything out today. Mostly because we're both delirious."
"Get out of my head."
"You're not subtle." He stands, offering me his hand. "Come to bed." I smile a little, annoyed by how well he knows me but still comforted by the familiarity of crawling into bed with Lindsey.
We get ready for bed quickly, and I watch him settle into bed. "Can I get you anything?"
"Come here."
"You took your meds?"
He nodded. "I'm good. Lay down, baby." I smile reflexively at the tone of his voice, finally obeying and sitting on the bed beside him. "You are so beautiful."
I curl up against his body and trace the edges of the bandage on his chest. "You are not allowed to die on me. You know that, right?"
"I'll do my best."
"I'm serious. I don't know what I'd do."
"We're getting old. Some day it's going to happen."
"Shut up. Just tell me you won't die on me."
"I don't plan on it."
"Thank you."
"Baby, I'm tired."
"Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
