Southern Charm

Chapter 11

JESSIE

Today officially marks a week since I was injured, and I was making progress each day. Veronica was right; it would be a harrowing journey to recovery, but with Trace by my side, I managed very well. So many people were helping me out, making it all go by smoother and quicker.

I do not love being cooped up on the couch or in the bedroom most of the day. I actually can't stand it. I'm the person who gets up at the butt crack of dawn and does some work. As long as my body is moving then I am happy. To me change isn't fun, unless it is a change of scenery. Since being stuck in the house I'm aggravated at the paint color on the wall that did nothing to me, it's just I have stared at it way too long and want to look at something different.

Meghan was flying in from Montana today, and I was so excited to meet her. Trace said she was the same age as me, which was great. I was almost sure she'd get along with my friends. I hoped we liked each other because she would become my sister-in-law soon. I hardly had problems making friends throughout school or getting along with others. It was natural for me, and I prayed it was natural for Meghan and me. I couldn't even think about all the scenarios that could happen if she didn't like me.

"Jess, I made breakfast. Do you want me to bring it to you in bed or come to the kitchen to eat?" Trace asked.

Trace was standing in the doorway of our bedroom. Yes, our bedroom. We had only slept next to each other, and that was it. My heart couldn't bear to tell him about my past with Max Lane. It was a buried secret no one but Bailey and my mother knew about.

"I'll come in the kitchen to eat. You know I haven't been able to stand being in one room for too long."

I began to get up from the bed when Trace came over to help me as I stood on my good leg. My ribs were still painful, but I managed to push through their annoyance to get where I needed to go. Trace handed me the crutches, and I put each under my arm. The slit on my arm had healed more too. Progress took a while, but I knew I was better off now than before. The bruising on my face and arms had started turning yellow, which was a good sign of healing.

Once in the kitchen, Trace pulled out the chair and helped me lower myself to it even though it hurt.  He brought me over a plate of food along with some coffee. Eggs, bacon, toast with strawberry jam, and a few blueberries I knew were from my Mom's blueberry bush sat before me.

"Thank you," I said, taking a bite of the scrambled eggs.

Everything on a ranch or farm or whatever term you wanted to use always seemed to taste better because it was fresh. We got numerous eggs during the week and sold them when we had too many. While we did go to the grocery store for things, but we did not have to buy a lot of fruits or vegetables. Most of them we grew ourselves. The same goes for the meat.

Trace kissed the top of my forehead and sat down next to me. Having him here was strange, and then again, it felt so right. It's so complete with him here. For the entire first week, Trace had been nothing but fantastic. However, part of me worried if he was in any pain inside. What if he kept going and didn't bother to tell me? I'd hate for him to be hurting and not get any help, although, with a tumor, I didn't know how much more help he could get until the date of the surgery.

"Bailey is coming over in a little bit to help you get ready. I went ahead and put the chair in the shower for you. I also laid out your towel and cloth," Trace said.

"Thanks; I want to try showering before she arrives. I've got more strength than I have had before. It shouldn't be too much of a problem, and if it is, you will be here."

The tricky thing about showering was my cast. Since I came home, I have showered wearing my bathing suit. I also had to put a plastic bag over my cast. Showering didn't use to be a challenge, but it would be for the next month or so.