So much for sending Rosie to prep dinner. King and I slept through the night. At least, I assumed King slept through the night. He was still in bed when I awoke with my head on his shoulder.
"How did you sleep?" King asked.
That was my cue to slip back to my side of the bed as if it were a natural progression and not me avoiding King's touch. Which I wasn't, only I was.
"Good. You? Are you in pain?"
"Not bad. I should eat before I take more pills, right? Bad for my stomach otherwise?"
"True."
"Would you mind helping me up? I'd like to brush my teeth first."
"Oh, sure."
The hardest part was getting King upright. Something about raising to a sitting position caused King's injury to throb.
King was able to take care of his needs in the toilet area while I stayed near the sink, putting toothpaste on his brush, filling his water glass, and laying out a warm, wet washcloth.
