What Are The Odds?

Nathan struggled on his own for a few days and cursed himself for insisting on being independent. Doing things one-handed was terrible and, to make matters worse, he ran out of leftovers.

He ordered himself a bunch of cheap takeout to function as meals to last him a couple of days after that and ended up making a bunch of sloppy sandwiches with one hand. It was a lot harder than it looked.

Amber texted him on her iPad frequently to see how he was doing and he repeatedly told her he was fine even though he felt like he was dying. The times between taking his pain meds when they were starting to wear off were awful.

Nathan didn't change his clothes for days either. But knowing Sierra was coming on Monday—he had written it down while still on the phone so he wouldn't forget—he got Jake to come over and help him change into new clothes after showering and put the stupid sling back on properly.

Totally humiliating? Yes. At least he wouldn't smell terrible when a woman aside from Lisa came over to his apartment for the first time in years. This time he was sure to put on a button up shirt instead of one that went over his head because that was what he struggled with most.

Another benefit of Jake's visit was that he brought a bunch more leftovers with him. And M&M cookies Amber helped her mom bake. He definitely couldn't complain about that part. They were delicious.

His little sister also made him a get-well card herself that was sent over with the cookies. She did it in sparkly gel pens, which was so her. He smiled every time he saw it sitting on his desk.

When Monday rolled around Nathan was still asleep wearing a checkered short-sleeve button up shirt and sweatpants when the doorbell rang. He wasn't ready!

He tried smoothing his bedspread out as desperately as he could with one hand because his bed would be visible since it was a studio and did his best to tame his bedhead quickly too. He put his new glasses with the transition lenses on (he wanted to give it a try since they were having a special deal where they weren't much more expensive than regular ones) and prayed he didn't look as terrible as he felt.

"Hi," he said lamely when he opened the door. "Sorry, I just woke up."

Sierra frowned. "Did you forget I was coming?"

"No, I knew you were coming but I'm in pain and stupidly forgot to set my alarm. My bad. Do you want anything? I could make coffee." He was fairly certain that having people over involved offering food and beverages. It had been a while since he did this.

"Why don't you tell me where the stuff is and I'll make the coffee? Since your arm is basically unusable."

Nathan pointed out the espresso machine and the cupboard he kept the pods in before opening up his laptop and making sure his manuscript was open to the right place. He had finished his rereading to refresh himself the day before and was ready to finish this thing.

At least this draft. If his editor thought any major changes needed to be made, he would have to do certain parts over. That had happened less and less often as he continued writing though. He had to redo a good chunk of his first few novels.

Sierra laughed when she got one of his mugs out. It was the black one that said 'Future Best-Selling Author' on it in white and red letters with a red doodle of a quill pen. "When did you get this?"

Nathan rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly with his good hand. "…Lisa got that for me when my first book got published. As it turned out, she was right."

"What do you know, a mug actually predicted the future. What are the odds?"

Probably about the same as a person predicting the future. Though he didn't exactly predict it since he straight up saw it happen and had to relive it. Either way, it was unlikely. It was rather ironic that someone who saw visions of the future owned a mug that accurately predicted his. Though he knew at the time it was more wishful thinking than anything.

That mug was his favorite. It had given him many much-needed shots of motivation when he was struggling with writer's block.

Nathan only owned four mugs. He rotated through them to avoid doing dishes as long as he possibly could. The others were solid dark blue, a souvenir from an aquarium, and one Amber made for him at a pottery painting place for one of her friend's birthdays that looked like a poke ball from Pokémon.

"You like Pokémon?" she asked with a smile as she finished with his coffee and made some for herself in that mug.

"Yeah. I was really into them when I was a kid and, when Amber got old enough to properly appreciate it, I introduced her to some of the old movies and the original TV show. She made that for me."

"You two are really close considering your age difference. I'm close with my siblings but we're all four years apart from each other. Do you have any others or is she the only one? With that big of a gap, if she is, you'd practically be an only child."

Nathan shrugged with his good arm. "She's the only one. I was supposed to stay an only child but she was a surprise. I could never regret her being born though. There are certain generational differences that are weird but I don't know what I would do without her. How many siblings do you have?"

"Two," Sierra replied as she stirred creamer into her coffee. "Scarlett is younger than me and Sam is older."

"All S names, huh?"

"Yeah. They really wanted to use the name Samuel and ended up continuing on with the matching all the way to the end. Anyway, your coffee's ready but it's probably still hot. I ate before I came but do you need food?"