“Must be.” Jace looked around. “Hey, want me to clean up while you finish?”
Dad nodded. “Do what you can. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“I know.” Jace got the hand broom and started brushing down surfaces and machinery, though he kept away from his dad’s spot. His dad would clean that up later.
“Your mom says you’re going back to school Monday,” Dad said, keeping his eyes on his work.
“Yeah,” Jace replied, grabbing the broom. “Might as well.” It was awkward, trying to sweep with one hand, but he found if he cradled the handle in his arm, he could do a decent job.
School would be awkward too, but for a whole different reason. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about dressing around that cast.
It was too bad he couldn’t just stay home like this all the time. He preferred setting his own schedule and having the rest of the day to do whatever. It didn’t hurt that the only people he interacted with now were friends and family.
And it wasn't like it was hard keeping up with the assignments. He was nearly finished with his homework, despite having lost nearly three weeks prior to resuming his studies.
Satisfied with his pile, he grabbed the dustpan and let it clatter to the floor, nudging it into place with his foot.
Dad looked back at him. “Ah, bud, don’t worry about that. I’ll finish up. You go warn your mom that we’re done and hungry.”
Jace chuckled. “Okay, fine.” He wanted to do more—a lot more, really—but it was no use arguing. Besides, he was hungry—probably hungrier than his dad, who had been working all day.
Jace popped into the kitchen where he could smell his mom already had meatloaf in the oven. He licked his lips as his stomach growled. “I hope you’re getting ready to make Idahoans with that meatloaf, ‘cause dad’s hungry,” he said, scooping up an apple from the dish on the counter and taking a bite.
Mom chuckled. “I see he’s not the only one. And yes, the meatloaf is for Idahoan sandwiches. What kind of mom do you think I am?”
Jace kissed her on the cheek. “The best,” he mumbled around another bite of apple, though what he really wanted was a mouthful of meatloaf, melted cheese, mashed potatoes and the tangy drizzle of her special sauce. The thought nearly ruined the apple for him, but he needed something to hold him over.
“Your phone pinged while you were out,” she said as she grabbed the rest of the ingredients from the fridge.
Jace nodded his thanks and grabbed his phone from the counter as he ducked out of the kitchen. It was a good thing he had something to help distract him, or he might’ve just turned into an animal waiting for dinner to be done.
“Thanks,” he said over his shoulder, taking the stairs to his room two at a time.
He shut the door behind him, trying to block out the aroma as much as possible. Not that it was working. It was like his mom had flooded the entire house with the smell of meatloaf. He could swear he even detected the sweet-and-meaty tang of the ketchup and chili that went into the sauce.
He cracked his window open and sat next to it as he checked his phone. A quick glance told him what he already knew: Brendan had texted. He pulled up the screen to see what his friend wanted.
Brendan: U still coming 2 skool Mon? Cause there’s this new gurl and she’s HAWT.
Jace rolled his eyes. Like he cared about a new girl. Just one more he’d probably never talk to.
Jace: Yeah, still coming. And Y U telling me? You know I’m :nerd:.
He chuckled as he sent the text back. Brendan probably just wanted to rub the new girl in Jace’s face before he made sure to put her on lockdown. It wasn’t often they got new people moving to the area. Poor girl didn’t know what she had coming.
Brendan: :shrug: Ur loss. Dibs.
Jace shook his head as he tossed his phone on the bed. His stomach gave another ferocious growl, just as his mom yelled out that dinner was ready.
He slammed the window closed, wincing at the strained creak it let out. But then he was barreling down the stairs.
“Whoa, that was quick,” his mom said, her brows raised.
Jace smirked. “I’ll probably eat twice as fast.”
“Says the guy with only one hand to eat with.”
He shrugged. “I never said it wouldn’t be messy.”
“That’s my boy,” Dad said as he came in from the washroom. He always seemed to bring the smell of the workshop with him these days, and even with Idahoans on the table, Jace could sense the slight shift in scents.
They all sat around the quaint circular table, the wooden surface marred by time and a little boy’s strange behaviors. Jace ran his finger along one groove he’d carved with a fork, back before he’d understood that he was destroying it by digging that rut.
And despite all that had changed over the years, he had the feeling he was in the same position now.
Because no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the attack and the voices he’d heard.
And no matter how much he tried to dismiss it, he kept dreaming about the girl from the hospital parking lot, even if he still couldn’t see her face.
***
It was Friday afternoon, and Jace felt like a caged animal. He’d been pacing all day, hardly able to sit still long enough to eat.
He wanted to rip his cast off, test his limits. Power seemed to surge through his muscles—power that felt pent up behind the layers of cotton and hardened plastic.
And even though he’d had to wait half the day just to be here, he would have to wait even longer for the doctor to see him.
“Sit down,” his mom hissed, lowering her book to her lap with a finger between the pages.
Jace pulled out his earbuds, which he had on low to make sure he didn’t miss when he was called, and slumped into a seat. But his leg kept on bouncing.
Jace sighed.
“Ready to get that thing off?” his mom asked, sliding a bookmark where her finger had been.
“You have no idea.”
“Just . . . make sure you take it easy. You still have a lot of healing ahead of you” She placed a hand on Jace’s knee, which just kept on bouncing.
“I know, I know.”
Mom’s brows raised. She slid her hand off his knee, but rested it on top of her book, rather than picking it up again.
He was being stupid. He knew it. He’d only been recovering for a few weeks now, and broken bones, especially shoulder breaks, were notorious for taking longer to heal. They were only taking the cast off to ensure the joints didn’t lose mobility, but even that wasn’t a sure thing if they found the bone wasn’t healed enough.
“Jace Thoma?” a nurse called from the door to the back of the building.
Jace bounced up, making it to her in two steps. “That’s me.”
“Oh! You sure are eager. Follow me.” She smiled and turned on her heel.
Jace stayed right behind her, and he only remembered to hold the door for his mom at the last second, her soft footsteps barely registering.
The walk down the corridor to an exam room seemed to take forever, the small nurse’s steps the only thing holding him back from sprinting.
“The doctor will see you in a minute,” the nurse said once they’d entered the room, smiling as she closed the door.