Again (Brandy Jeffus)

and sore, from the lack of activity. I stretch gingerly and head to the bathroom.
    My hair almost makes me cry. It looks like a bird’s nest, sticking out in all directions. I splash some cold water on my face. Doing so is a reminder that I desperately need a shower.
    I turn the shower on hotter than usual and get undressed. A warm blanket of air engulfs me when I step inside. I wash my hair and lather up the rest of me in my favorite soap. My head still hurts, but not as bad.
    "Shit," I whisper realizing I didn't bring a change of clothes in the bathroom with me. I towel wrap my hair and grab Mama’s pink fluffy robe.
    When I enter my room, I nearly bump into Eli. He is changing the sheets on my bed. "Hey you don't have to do that, Eli."
    The gesture makes me want to cry, my emotions are obviously all over the map.
    "No it's okay. I heard you in the shower and figured it'd be nice to get into a clean bed, too. I'll finish in a minute so you can change."
    He stops suddenly when he looks at me. My face is flush and my skin has broken out in goose bumps.
    "You okay, B?" Eli puts a hand to my forehead and makes a tsk-tsk noise. He helps sit me down on the bed.
    "I think I just need some more meds," I whisper.
    "Yeah, seems like that. Here, just one sec,” with nimble fingers he swiftly pulls out two different kinds of medicine, “Let me go get you some Sprite okay? I'll be right back." And as fast as lightning he’s out of the room.
    My head is foggy, like somebody has taken a hundred cotton balls and stuffed them inside. I try to take a deep breath but my chest aches. I feel like death.
    Eli rushes back with a glass filled with Sprite. I take the medicine and take a sip. Sitting the glass down, I start to cry. I’ve reached my breaking point. I have never handled being severely ill very well.
    "Shhh, it's going to be okay honey. You'll start getting better soon. I promise. I'll get you ready for bed okay?"
    "No!" I exclaim through my crying.
    Eli stills beside me, "Bonnie, I just want to help you. I swear I am not going to be indecent. I would never do that to you. If you want to do it by yourself that's fine honey. I just want you to know I'm here if you need me.”
    I take a deep breath and look at his face. It hurts looking at something so beautiful, so full of caring that I don’t deserve.
    I finally nod and mumble, “Okay.”
    He goes to my dresser and retrieves some clean pajamas and underwear. He then comes over to me, “Did you dry off all the way?”
    I nod and he nods back, “Okay... I'm going to start then alright? I'll be quick.”
    I nod and look at him again. My eyes are glued to his as he puts the shirt over my head, struggling to get it over the towel wrapped around my hair. He takes my arms out of the robe gingerly and into the shirt. His touch is so soft and warm. It feels safe.
    “There you go. Now the rest, okay?” He holds my stare and I whisper my agreement. Eli kneels beside me with my underwear and lifts each foot into them. He brings them up all the way to my thighs.
    “Okay, honey. Grab on to me and stand up a little okay?” I’m drowning at this point. My insides have erupted into flames.
    “This doesn't mean ANYTHING got it?” I say hoarsely. This breaks the tension a little and Eli laughs.
    “No way, ma'am! I totally got it.”
    We lock eyes again as I stand up and hook my arms around his neck. Even though it’s been years, him being so close to me is familiar. He smells like fresh laundry. He quickly slides my underwear up over my bottom. My whole body is tingling.
    He clears his throat, “Um, okay let me sit you down and put your pants on, alright?”
    He pulls my pants over my feet and legs then stands me up again to pull them the rest of the way. He sits me down again and grabs my hairbrush.
    “I'm going to brush your hair then you can rest. Alright, darlin’?” His voice is low and husky. Was this doing anything to him? Did I want it to? All I do is nod and close my eyes as he gently towel dries my hair and starts brushing.
    “Is this hard for you?” I whisper.
    “A little bit,” he admits after a brief hesitation, “But I'm okay. Are you okay?”
    I snicker, “Yeah, except for the whole feeling like death part.” Eli chuckles and I continue, “It’s nice though, being taken care of. I really do appreciate you helping me and Mama out.” I intertwine my fingers in my lap. The rhythm of the brush going up and down is relaxing.
    “It's not that big of a