have to sit up,” he told Ginger.
Ginger worked the mechanical gears that raised the head of the bed. Jimmy’s face tightened from the movement, but his ribs didn’t hurt as much once he was up right.
He held Ginger’s hand and offered it a reassuring squeeze to let her know everything was okay. He guessed she still agonized over not escaping and bringing back help in time, but he was just thankful Patrick hadn’t gone caveman on her.
Light filtered in between the blinds, cold and gray, chasing away the darkness. Jimmy wished the light could do the same for his spirits. His ribs were killing him. Luis suspected a couple of them were broken, but he couldn’t confirm it without X-rays. He said they’d heal with time and gave Jimmy meds for the pain. The medicine did squat from what Jimmy could tell.
“Does your head hurt?” Ginger asked.
“Not too bad.”
“I can’t believe she did this. I never thought Molly would hurt someone. This just doesn’t add up.”
“Molly’s been angry for quite a while. I wish she hadn’t chosen last night to pop, but what can you do.”
“She used to have a crush on you.”
“Yeah, I know. I told her I liked someone else.”
“You did. Who was that?”
Jimmy smiled as much as busted lips would allow.
“Me?” It was cute the way she pointed to herself. “I’m glad you didn’t tell her that. She was hard enough on me.”
“Well, now you’ve been promoted.”
Ginger frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Congratulations.”
She narrowed her brown eyes. “Not exactly the way I planned to get promoted.” Then her eyes widened. “Wait, I don’t know the first thing about running a store.”
Jimmy chuckled, still a bad idea; his eyes filled with fresh tears and he was forced to focus on his breathing. He patted Ginger’s hand.
“You’ve been running that store since you started,” he finally said. “Why do you think we put you there? Molly couldn’t sew a stitch. Just keep doing what you’ve always done.”
The sounds of a new day interrupted their conversation. A gaggle of geese honked their flight plan overhead, the cold wind whistled against the window, and kids hurrying past on their way to breakfast discussed the details of the house fire in excited tones.
Ginger sighed. “I had to keep my crush on you a secret because of her. I used to do things for you, like when I planted the flower bed outside your house.”
“That was you?” Jimmy smiled, finally fitting all the pieces together. “I should have figured with all the flower pots in your house. Maybe you should bring that green thumb out to the fields with us.”
“No thanks. I like sewing. The flowers are just a hobby.”
Jimmy began noticing that each new breath felt like he was inhaling through a narrow straw with a giant spitball lodged in the center. He gripped the sheets.
“Are you okay?” Ginger asked.
“I… I can’t catch my breath.”
“Luis!”
Luis leaped from his chair with a piece of paper stuck to his forehead. “What?”
“He’s having trouble breathing.”
Jimmy didn’t like the way Luis frowned, assuming that’s never a good sign when it comes from a doctor who’s taking care of you.
“One of the broken ribs might have punctured a lung. It’s pretty common with rib fractures.”
“What can we do about it?” Ginger asked.
Luis placed a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I have to re-inflate your lung.”
“How?” Jimmy asked, with a bit more of a wheeze.
Luis offered him a weak smile. “I’m not sure yet. Give me a little time to read up on the procedure.”
“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jimmy suspected he sounded brave but he was barely holding his bladder in check. Broken ribs, punctured lung. He couldn’t even do his daily plague self-checkup because there were so many different aches and pains.
Luis searched through his medical library and selected one book from a shelf. Then he sat at his desk, flipping pages and murmuring to himself.
Ginger pinched her eyebrows together in a tight knot. Jimmy squeezed her hand again. Her fear was bright when she looked at him. She averted her eyes to their clasped hands and returned his squeeze.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jimmy said. “Luis’s got the brains and the nerve to handle this.”
She touched his lips. “Shush. Don’t talk so much. Save your strength.”
He kissed her fingers and earned a smile for the effort. She caressed his cheek.
Ten minutes passed. “Luis?” Jimmy said.
Luis glanced at him over the cover of his book, perturbed. “What?”
“What’s the word?”
“Thoracentesis.”
“What the hell does that