Thanksgiving

Chapter 18

"Ma,am?"
I hear a woman's voice. But am not sure where it is coming from. I am really cold.
"WHAT THE HELL!?" I hear a familiar voice. It's Christian's voice. I could really use one of his all-encompassing hugs right now. I smile. "I swear to GOD I leave for half an hour and my wife is sprawled out naked on the bathroom floor? MOVE!" I feel his arms start to wrap around me and before he can get hold of me, I feel him being pushed away.
"Sir, you can't move her, she's hit her head, there's blood, and there may be further damage. I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the bathroom until the other nurse gets here to help me get her back to the bed."
"Like fuck!" I hear Christian say, pure grit in his voice. I open my eyes to look at him. He goes to grab for me again.
"Sir, I will be forced to call security if you don't leave the room," I watch her push at him again. She must be strong to be able to knock him away. That, or he's too stunned to believe someone would try.
The two continue to argue and I realize I'm probably ok. I sit up, pull myself to stand and grab a gown from the closet. I put it on quickly and tap Christian on the shoulder. "Can I go back to bed, please? I'm really cold." I grab onto his shoulder to steady myself.
Christian spins around to me, the look of anger deep in his eyes. "Anastasia Grey, you are the most infuriating woman I've ever met!" He eyes me and a look of something near fear passes across his face. "What the hell did you do?"
"You left and forgot to give me a sponge bath, I thought I could do it without you and I did. Until I slipped on the sink and fell." I feel something move on my face and I quickly look in the mirror. A large knot matching Ted's has formed on my forehead and a wound has formed on my temple where I hit the latch on the door. The wound is bleeding and a trickle of blood is slowly making its way down my cheek away from the matting around my hairline. I quickly grab the washcloth and wet it, then dab it to my face.
"Ma'am, please let me take care of that," I hear the nurse say from behind Christian. She pushes between him and the wall to get to me. I can tell by the look on her face that she is not happy.
"What can I do?" I hear the sound of a second nurse at the doorway,
"Apparently not your j-" I elbow Christian in the ribs before he finishes his sentence. "We're fine," Christian says sharply. I feel Christian's hands at my back as he ties up my hospital gown. He pulls my arm over his shoulder, and lifts me off the ground. Once back in the bed the two nurses work together attending to my wounds and decide together that I won't be needing stitches. They leave quickly. If the door wasn't on some sort of hydraulic system, I'm sure it would have been slammed.
I look at the bedside table and realize that at some point during the excitement, my lunch had arrived. I pull the table to me, I'm starved. Christian lifts the lid and we both stare. A slice of something that might be considered ham in some sort of gelatinous sauce, a glob of opaque-ish mashed potatoes, and some pale green broccoli are looking back at me. "Blech," I say.
"Eat," commands Christian. "Let me guess, all you've had your whole visit was that bite of bagel from this morning?" I nod.
I stab my fork at the ham and take a bite. I so miss Mrs. Taylor's cooking right now. I eat half the ham, a few bites of potatoes and give Christian the stink eye over the broccoli. Chocolate pudding that looks more like one of Phoebe's diapers is in a separate bowl. I lift it to my nose and decide it smells just about as bad. "I'm done," I say as I push the table away from me.
Christian sighs, he has learned how to pick his battles with me and food. I ate, not as much as I'm sure he wanted me to, but I ate. He replaces the lid and takes the tray out of the room and closes the door when he returns.
Christian sits down on the edge of the bed and shakes his head. "This is the part where any normal husband would tell his normal wife 'I told you so.'" He leans over and kisses the knot on my head.
"Well, you know you and I are neither of those things," I smile - attempting a look of innocence.
"That is indeed true, Mrs. Grey," he kicks off his shoes. "You need to push that button."
I look at him inquisitively. "Why?" I ask.
"Because you wear me out, and I plan on taking a nap with my stubborn wife." He pauses, looks at me and makes a pouting face with his lips.