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“We can ask Julie to help. Either with the kitchen or the front desk, or both. Or I can make lots of food in advance and do your stuff. Or we can stop taking guests for some time.”
“No,” King-Lu shook his head. “I can do everything myself.”
“You can’t walk,” Cookie countered plainly.
“The front desk has a chair.”
“Oh please,” Cookie said with uncharacteristic sarcasm and instantly switched back to the voice full of care. “You need rest.”
They were coming back to the hotel from the market, carrying two baskets of vegetables and a flour sack, chatting about the simple things of their everyday life, when an expensive-looking carriage stormed at them out of nowhere.
King-Lu cried with sharp pain and curled on the pavement, and kneeling next to him, Cookie felt something very rare - his blood boiling inside him with anger.
“What are you doing?” he yelled at the driver, who stopped the carriage across the road and looked genuinely scared.
“I… I…” the driver tried to say, but then a soft, white and very clean hand appeared in the carriage window.
“Hurry up!” an annoyed male voice said from the inside. “Forget them, I don’t want to be late!”
“How could you!..” Cookie wasn’t quite able to find the words. “His leg’s probably broken, he’s in pain! And you don’t care?!”
The hand disappeared in the window just to appear again in a second and throw a couple of coins on the pavement.
“Take it and stop complaining, beggar! Henry, whip up!” and the driver urged the horse.
“Are you alright?” Cookie asked in a cloud of dust from under the hoofs.
King-Lu groaned, “I think… urgh… you are right about my leg, Cookie.”
A boy came to them, shyly holding out his hand with the coins.
"Take your money, mister."
“I don’t need his!..” Cookie snapped, then took a breath and said with his usual more sad than calm intonation, “You can take it.”
“You’ll need it for a doctor,” the boy said weightily and pressed the coins into Cookie’s palm. He still felt so mad he thought the copper would melt in his hand.
“Alright, let’s do it this way: you’ll help us with the vegetables,” - which were scattered all over the pavement - “and I’ll give you the money for that, okay?”
The boy nodded.
“And…” Cookie sighed, “do you know where we can find a doctor?”
“Julie doesn’t like staying for the night,” King-Lu carried on with arguing. “She’s afraid of our guests.”
“There are no sailors today, and I hope there won’t be any until the end of the week,” Cookie waved the argument away. “Please. Stay in bed. For two days, at least.”
King-Lu frowned.
“I’m still mad at myself for not stopping sooner.”
“You couldn’t see the carriage, it was too fast.”
“No, I mean… that day in the forest. I should’ve understood sooner that your wound was serious.”
Cookie looked at him with his big deep eyes.
“And then you carried me for miles. And let me rest for enough time, though we had to leave for California so no one could find us.” He paused and squinted, "Haven't we talked about it already?"
"Maybe," King-Lu replied slowly, then smirked, "I think I'll need a nurse for the evening."
Cookie huffed warmly and left the bedroom only to come back with a tea tray and his new recipe book. He settled comfortably on his side of their bed and started making notes on the margins while King-Lu was sipping his tea.
In a while, the day came to its end, and they fell asleep, feeling nothing more than warmth and comfort (and not a bit of anger, however righteous it was).