“Isn’t everyone?”
I laugh giddily as I struggle to get myself upright. It takes more effort than I expected, but I do feel more like myself when I’m on my feet.
“This feels… nice.”
Courtney offers me her elbow. “Wanna take a closer look at that view?”
“Yes, please.”
She helps me shuffle carefully to the window ledge on my weak Bambi legs. I’m wearing a pair of loose sweatpants and the softest t-shirt imaginable. It feels like I’m swaddled up in a cloud.
But as soon as I think that thought, I remember the bundle from my dream, and the joy goes right back out of me.
“London does look a little different from up here, doesn’t it?” Courtney remarks as we come to a rest at the windowsill.
“Are you from here?”
“Originally from Manchester,” she says. “But I’ve lived in London for almost three decades now. Both my kids were born here. They go to university here, too.”
“What are they studying?”
“Simon wants to get into advertising and Marianne’s in pastry school.”
“No way. I’m a chef.”
Her eyes light up a little. “Do you love it?”
I touch the back of her hand and grin. “So, so much.”
The woman sighs like she’s been desperate to hear someone say that. “That’s so nice, darling. I’ve been worried sick that it will be a difficult path for her.”
“It can be sometimes. But if she loves it enough, it’ll be worth it.”
“Maybe you should get back in bed, Jessa,” Dr. Mathers says, interrupting our conversation. I had forgotten she was still in the room.
“I just got out of bed,” I argue. “And anyway, I feel much better.”
“Let’s not push it so soon, though.”
Sighing, I turn from the window with Courtney’s help. “Is he really so terrifying that I can’t stand up for a few minutes?”
“Have you seen the man?” Dr. Mathers deadpans.
I can feel Courtney trying to suppress her laughter as she gently pulls me back to the bed. “Wait,” I protest. “I want to see the rest of the suite.”
“This evening, perhaps,” Dr. Mathers says quickly. “Or tomorrow.”
“Do you need the don’s permission or something?”
She stands to the side so that Courtney can help me back into bed. Right back into the warm indent where I’ve spent the last I-can’t-even-remember-how-long.
“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, Jessa,” Dr. Mathers says in a long-suffering tone once I’m settled in again. “You and your baby both.”
She succeeds in making me feel guilty enough that I let my argument die on my lips. The moment she walks out of the room, however, I take a sharp breath and throw my head back against the pillows.
“Come now, love, it’s not that bad,” Courtney tells me sympathetically. “A few more days of rest and you won’t have to lie down unless you want to.”
“I’m going stir-crazy.”